Sensory perceptions in writing

DeMont

Mere Male
Joined
Dec 28, 2019
Posts
211
Good morning, again, my dear colleagues (I really must get into the idea of sleeping at night!)

There are certain threads of discussion that I revisit from time to time to keep up with "the conversation". One such thread is "Workshop this plot with me, serial killer picks wrong girl" by joy_of_cooking.
Now I'm never entirely sure how close to topic threads are going to stay so some of the diversions come up as a surprise and cause a chuckle. In this particular thread there came about a "back-and-forth" that ent like this;

@Five_Inch_Heels
"We found her face down in a bathtub covered in chocolate sauce with a banana shoved in her split!"

@Voboy
"Smells.
Use smells. Don't ever forget sensory details in general, but for something like this? Smells."

@Five_Inch_Heels
"Would it smell like a banana split?"

@MrPixel
Five_Inch_Heels said: Would it smell like a banana split?
"A fishy banana split."

For the record, and we are talking about quite a long term record of experience/s (NO boasting intended) I can honestly say that I have never experienced a "fishy" smelling slit. There, I said it! So, when we talk about introducing "sensory perceptions" in a story what sort of "smells/scents/looks/idiosyncrasies and such are we talking about? and, expanding on that, are they absolutely necessary to the make up and development of a story in your opinion?
Curiously and respectfully,
D.
 
I usually resort to a fairly general "warm, feminine scent" for *down there*. I might describe a woman's perfume, particularly if she has long hair, but again in general terms: "something floral, with a hint of bergamot". I'll also mention how the scent is enhanced by the warmth of her body.

Outside of sex, I'll devote a few words to particular smells: seawater and dead fish on the docks in a fantasy setting, thyme and rosemary on a parched hilltop, leather and sweat for the city watch.

Sounds can also be useful to make sex scenes more immersive. Gasps, shallow breathing, soft moans, a thick voice, sometimes even a bit of squelching.

Touch is a bit trickier, I find, but perhaps one of the most immersive senses to describe. Smooth skin, body heat, short hairs on her mound, the stubble on his chin, the lines on her shoulders left by her bra, the contrast between her linen skirt and silk knickers, or a silk blouse and a lacy bra, the raised ridge of a scar, the strange sensation of near-touching before his fingertips actually touch her.

What details like these do, I think, is slow down the narrative. This gives the reader more time to place themselves in the moment, and that their engagement. It helps to make them feel part of the scene, rather than just looking on.
 
I often describe the smell of food cooking, or do comparisons of familiar things. So "smelled of the sea air" or "a taste reminiscent of a musky pear" would be what I'd go for.

But I have a great visual imagination that goes far beyond visual, so I can recall a very specific touch or sensation and call on that while writing. When I'm writing sensual scenes, I will absolutely model them after my own experiences because I can recall those experiences in vivid sensory detail. I can remember what a particular person's skin tastes and smelled like, how their touch felt, how they had patterns to sensuality and I react on that recall as if it were currently happening, so I can write the experience as though freshly lived.
 
a "fishy" smelling slit
Sounds like middle schoolers talking to me.

I have a very poor sense of smell, maybe related to nasal inhalers for allergic rhinitis, but whatever. I seldom used to include things about smell in my stories as a result. Then I started collabing with @Djmac1031 who is - let’s say - fond of referring to aromas in his writing. It made me realize I was not using a tool I could use. So now I do include smells (not of fish - even I can smell fish) but I’m essentially winging it most of the time.
 
I'm just gonna go on record and say any story that refers to a woman's vagina and scent as a "fishy smelling slit" would get an immediate One Star from me.
 
Sounds like middle schoolers talking to me.

I have a very poor sense of smell, maybe related to nasal inhalers for allergic rhinitis, but whatever. I seldom used to include things about smell in my stories as a result. Then I started collabing with @Djmac1031 who is - let’s say - fond of referring to aromas in his writing. It made me realize I was not using a tool I could use. So now I do include smells (not of fish - even I can smell fish) but I’m essentially winging it most of the time.
From my WIP novel:

The weather was in my favor again, though it also occurred to me that the clear sky and plentiful Sun would likely make me more visible. I decided to stay deep in the forest where possible. The ground was rising again, and the beeches and sugar maples gave way to first birches, and then pines. The regularly-spaced conifers made for easier progress, but I also felt more exposed. I was thankful when I began to lose height once more, and return to the more densely tangled deciduous woodland below; its earthy aroma replacing the crisp terpenes of higher ground.
 
So, when we talk about introducing "sensory perceptions" in a story what sort of "smells/scents/looks/idiosyncrasies and such are we talking about? and, expanding on that, are they absolutely necessary to the make up and development of a story in your opinion?
Curiously and respectfully,
Great minds! Over the past couple of days I've been noodling around about how to compose a post about sensory experience. As I've mentioned here before, I'm aphantasic (can't visualize), and that's probably why I don't dwell on the visual aspects of a story. I've also lost a lot of my sense of smell over the years (mitigated by acupuncture now and again, but that no longer works.) What I do have, along with a "conceptual" way of thinking, is somatic memory. I remember how my babies felt, but not so much how they looked.

I crave sensory description in erotica, but most especially somatic. @HordHolm put it well when he said, "Help the reader to understand what the characters are sensing."
 
One of the challenges of incorporating smells in particular is, does your reader know what that smells like?
Your character walks out of the barn and the smell of freshly mown hay is carried on the wind.
What does that smell like? Doesn't it actually convey any meaning to the reader?
 
One of the challenges of incorporating smells in particular is, does your reader know what that smells like?
Your character walks out of the barn and the smell of freshly mown hay is carried on the wind.
What does that smell like? Doesn't it actually convey any meaning to the reader?
This is a really good point, but I have a possibly controversial conjecture: It doesn't actually matter. You will never be able to recreate the same sensation in your reader's head as the one you experience and are trying to convey. Referencing a shared experience can get you close, but ultimately, the reader will conjure something in their mind that they believe is congruent with what you are expressing or that fits what they would expect to experience in that situation.

In other words, all we can do is our best and then trust our readers to bridge the gap with what makes sense to them. The act of bringing forth an experience in the reader, whether it is exactly what you were intending or not, is the important part.

Or that could all be BS 🤷‍♀️
 
Fishy? No, but there are smells that remind me of a woman. A story from long ago:

I was serving time with the US Army on the other side of the Pacific Ocean from my home. My girlfriend at the time (later to be my better half) sent me a selection of cheeses. You know the ones in little foil-wrapped wedges. Anyway having survived on C rations and other stuff that are nutritious but would never be called 4-star cuisine (or 1 star for that matter) I savored those little bites of heaven. Each was a different flavor and each was delicious.

The last one was flavored with caraway seed oil. When I opened that foil pack it caused an instant reaction. It smelled exactly like her pussy! I ate the cheese with my eyes closed, all the while imagining it was her my tongue was tasting. I carried the paper wrapper off that cheese in my pocket until the smell was completely gone. I told her about it when I got home and she was totally embarrassed because of it. For my part I thought it was fantastic because it reminded me of what waited for me at home.


Comshaw
 
One of the challenges of incorporating smells in particular is, does your reader know what that smells like?
Your character walks out of the barn and the smell of freshly mown hay is carried on the wind.
What does that smell like? Doesn't it actually convey any meaning to the reader?

I also think it's not necessarily important for the reader to know what hay smells like. As long as your writing evokes the right atmosphere or image in the reader's mind, they can even imagine a scent that suits them. The mention of smell still activates their sensory imagination beyond the purely visual one and thus adds depth to the scene.
 
Stephen King always has a way of describing dead smells that really just gives the reader the ick. 🤢🤮
Death and impending death is the type of smell that you can never scrub from your mind once you've experienced it. And it's not the same as dead rotting rat smell. It's this deeply earthy and pungently acidic scent that gradually turns to rotten bile and sulphur.


Most people have never experienced it beyond rotting rodent and such, which is much milder. But they still understand "Smells real bad," with the most tame of descriptions and that's all you really need.
 
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