Writing Exercise: Describe a face

[tolyk]

I'm really horrible with description, so it got me wondering how many other people have problems describing things, faces particularly. They seem to be avoided by many writers, yet a face speaks so much about a person.

So, everyone try to describe a face, either fictional or real.

Here is my attempt:


His hair stood on end, not spiked for style, but more of an unkempt look about it. Bushy eyebrows sat above incredibly dark brown eyes, adorned with lashes a woman would envy. A thin pair of glasses sat upon his slightly large nose, the frames hooking behind his ears, which stuck out somewhat. His chin, strong and prominent, was covered with a thick goatee. The facial hair framed his pouty lips nicely.

 

[Guest]

Morning dawns.
I could only stare at her as I did every morning. She was sleeping when i propped myself up on my elbow and stared down on her.
Her rosey, full lips were parted as she breathed deeply and I found myself tracing her face as if i could emblazon her image upon my memory. Her soft skin under my finger tips, an exploration of her beauty.
Her curling brown wild hair covered half her face and I pushed it out of the way so I could see the curve of her cheek against the pillow. How I wished she would open her eyes so I could melt in her moss-green gaze. Those eyes hold so much power over me; the mirror to her soul.
Her finely arched eyebrows, decorations the the beauty that lay just beneath. How wonderful that they could arch and make a statement all on their own.
Her creamy skin, so smooth and holding not one wrinkle, telling her age but belying such an old soul. Expressions limitless.This is my love. There is no other that could hold me in such a spell.

 

[neonlyte]

I’d lingered too long admiring the way she moved, her left hand animating the conversation whispered to her ear, her mobile hidden in an unkempt hair style of the type that costs a fortune to reproduce. The glimpses of her profile snatched off shop-fronts, spurred me to catch and pass her, I’d an urge to see her face undistorted by reflection. As I drew level she stopped walking, voice raised, left fist clenched in animated anger. She glanced up at me standing like an idiot less than a metre in front of her, lowered her glasses down to the tip of her elegant nose and peered at me, hazel eyes flecked with gold, talking into the phone all the while, forehead creased matching questioning eyes. ‘Who is this guy, do I know him?’ Her eyes enquired. She snapped the phone shut, parted lips, the tip of a pink tongue moistening her lip-gloss. “Men, you can be such stupid bastards.” She announced to no one in particular, piercing me.

 

[Guest]

I've just written this, as part of a scene in my NaNo novel (you actually inspired me to think of it, Tolyk. ):

“Small world, eh?” She smiled at him. The smile he forgot she had. Her dark eyes sparkled with amusement and the end of her nose wrinkled up. He’d forgotten there had once been beauty and joy in that face. Over the years he'd beaten it out of her, not always physically, but mentally. Most of the time her face wore a frown and so much hurt. Guilt? Nah, he didn't feel a shred of guilt, but it was kind of nice to see her smile again.

Kim turned her face and looked over her shoulder at her dog bounding across the field. At that instant, the clouds broke and sunlight hit her face. The light caught the soft, fine, almost invisible, downy hair across her cheek. He wanted to reach out and stroke that tender face, but he daren't. He had to keep reminding himself that she didn't know who he was.

“Yep, seems so!” he replied. “Mind if I walk with you now?”

“No, not at all. I’d quite like it, in fact. Looks like our dogs are getting on well.”

His eyes stopped scanning the minute details of her face and went to the dogs. “Yep, excitable little buggers aren’t they?”

She laughed at that. Not a false, nervous laugh, but a hearty, proper laugh.

Fuck! This bitch is gonna get it! How dare she flirt with a stranger like this? That thought pulled him back into the reality of why he was there. Befriend her a little, find out a bit about her movements. Make her trust men again, then go in for the kill, quite literally.

Lou

 

[tolyk]

Incredible Lou

Great jobs Vella and Neon, thanks for posting everyone.

 

[neonlyte]

Ooh Lou,

Sent shivers. Glad it's sunny outside.

Mine's a reworking of a bit from Nano - it's not done yet.

Thanks Tolyk

 

[impressive]

It was like flipping a switch. Just an average kind of beautiful when in pensive repose, her countenance underwent a stunning transformation when that smile lit her face. Oh, that smile! It was born in her sparkling blue eyes and traveled instantly down a multitude of tiny laugh lines, around high cheekbones, to persimmon lips which leapt outward in the most genuine expression of ... of mirth, of joy, of teasing ... that I have ever beheld.

Fair skin provided the backdrop for this radiance, and it was framed by dark hair sprinkled with grey. Age could not touch that kind of beauty. I'd seen it captured in photos taken in her younger days, and I seized every opportunity to see it now. When she aimed it at me, that weapon of mass seduction, she could have anything -- absolutely anything -- she wanted. The fact that she was oblivious to its effects made her all the more attractive.

 

[tolyk]

Very impressive

(Sorry, couldn't resist the slight pun)

 

[impressive]

adorned with lashes a woman would envy.

HOOK!

 

[impressive]

How I wished she would open her eyes so I could melt in her moss-green gaze.

HOOK!

 

[impressive]

her mobile hidden in an unkempt hair style of the type that costs a fortune to reproduce.

HOOK!

 

[tolyk]

Re: Re: Writing Exercise: Describe a face

HOOK!

How is mine a hook? Just curious

 

[neonlyte]

HOOK!

Not a term I'm familiar with.

 

[tolyk]

Not a term I'm familiar with.

I assume it was in reference to "Hook, line and sinker", hook meaning something that drags in the readers.

But it is also a proffession "To hook" (but I'm pretty sure it wasn't meant in that context )

 

[impressive]

I assume it was in reference to "Hook, line and sinker", hook meaning something that drags in the readers.

Yes -- it's what grabbed me & made me more interested in the character.

Tolyk -- I'm a sucker for eyes, and long lashes on men entrance me.

 

[impressive]

The light caught the soft, fine, almost invisible, downy hair across her cheek.

HOOK! (Doesn't the eloquence of my feedback just blow you away?)

 

[tolyk]

Yes -- it's what grabbed me & made me more interested in the character.

Tolyk -- I'm a sucker for eyes, and long lashes on men entrance me.

Ahh, I see So noted, by the way, that was a self description

 

[neonlyte]

that she was oblivious to its effects made her all the more attractive.

To return the compliment (just a pity it was the last line)

 

[SensualCealy]

Her face was like porcelin, soft, smooth, delicate. Her pristeen eyes enveloped my senses. The blue of the ocean, mystery of the seas, she draws me in as I take her lips in mine.

Soft, supple, damp to the touch, the taste of strawberry excites me. Her tongue darts in my mouth, catching my breath. My fingers caught in her blonde locks, curls wove around my hand like the the feathers of a bird caressing its body.

Her head tucked in the crook of my arm, "Good morning, my love!"
My princess so delicate.

sc

 

[English Lady]

"As I look down upon his upturned face, Strands of his hair like shadows lie upon his brow gently merging into the shadowy under growth of his brows. The forehead below is creamy white like a snowy expanse of tundra which sweeps down to the dark frozen wonder of those shimering watery lakes.

His cheeks are flushed and plump with excitement and my eyes sweep up and over those soft mounds and rest in the dark mesmerising pools that gentle lap at the rosy hillocks end. Those pools (as you look closer) are now the colour of rum with lightening sparks of golden thunder flashing through them.

The rhythm of the storm increases and moans of pleasure and delight spill between his ripe peachy fleshed lips. Our gazes lock and the golden sparks in his eyes seem to throb and wane to the same beat as our bodies."

 

[LadyJeanne]

Damn! The cheap corkscrew had bitten into her palm, but all her pulling and twisitng had only managed to get the cork halfway out of the bottle. It was firmly stuck. She could almost feel that first cold sip bathing her tongue and slipping down her throat, but no. This called for drastic measures.

Yanking the junk drawer open, her cold hands rummaged clumsily through the of odds and ends in search of the pliers she knew she had dropped in there. Aha! There they were. She grabbed them quickly, but her eye caught a flash of green grass and blue sky just before she slammed the drawer shut.

Suddenly still, her chilled fingers reached out tentatively and picked up the worn photo as though it might self-destruct at any moment. Or as though she might self-destruct at any moment. It just was an ordinary picture of a man and his dog sprawled in the park. That's all.

The wind had mussed his short blonde hair; a few strands fell haphazardly across his calm brow. His clean-shaven skin had been tanned by the sun - a golfer's tan, she mused as she swallowed hard, thinking of how warm his lean face had felt against her cheek. Her fingers shook as her eyes lovingly traced the boyish smile and the soft full lips that had so often pressed urgently against hers.

But it was his eyes that got her - they always did. His warm hazel gaze with those deep crinkles in the corners and soft brown lashes stared back at her, relaxed and open and direct and not a bit like the muddy green they had been when he had said goodbye. They always turned opaque when he was sad, as though to shield his thoughts from her.

She dropped the pliers on the counter and walked to the phone. It was just a man and and his dog in the park, but he was her man and she needed to hear his voice now more than the wine.

 

[lucky-E-leven]

She couldn’t be sure how long she sat there, her lens trained on the object of her desire as her artistic eye settled on pale pink lips before jumping to the straight line of an angular jaw. Laine scanned every angle, curve and dimple in her lover’s face with almost surgical precision before centering her view finder on a pale freckle in the center of Jade's cheek and snapping the photo. The noise of the shutter brought her subject’s head swinging around with interest and she skillfully wound the film to the next frame and captured the playful smirk, complete with squinting eyes, when Jade realized what she was doing.

Laine remembered that day so vividly that she viewed the little blonde more from memory than the four by six inch photo she now held. She marveled at the way her senses melded whenever she beheld Jade's profile. Light and shadow became the touch of velvet when Jade's cheek skimmed her belly. Unvanishing lines across the blonde's forehead from years of hard work and intense worry became the poignant taste of salty tears, recalled from times she'd kissed them away. Sprays of tiny lines at the corner of each eye and shallow dimples in freckled cheeks became the heart-warming sound of billowing laughter.

Every feature on Jade's face said something about how she was feeling at any given moment. Laine's mind raced through hundreds of mental snapshots, each one reminding her of the way forehead wrinkles could mean happiness or concern, how smiles at the lips could be completely discounted by the look of sadness in those milky blue-green eyes, and how passion could be almost audible in a silent room as surrender relaxed every feature momentarily before filling it with raw wonder. There was nothing more beautiful to Laine than the sight of Jade's face, no matter what was behind its current expression.

One thing was for sure, though. If the little blonde had even the slightest clue about how many times Laine had hidden behind racks in stores or peeked around a door frame to stare at her face and further memorize its every nuance, she'd be blushing for weeks.


~lucky

 

[matriarch]

She couldn’t be sure how long she sat there, her lens trained on the object of her desire as her artistic eye settled on pale pink lips before jumping to the straight line of an angular jaw. Laine scanned every angle, curve and dimple in her lover’s face with almost surgical precision before centering her view finder on a pale freckle in the center of Jade's cheek and snapping the photo. The noise of the shutter brought her subject’s head swinging around with interest and she skillfully wound the film to the next frame and captured the playful smirk, complete with squinting eyes, when Jade realized what she was doing.

Laine remembered that day so vividly that she viewed the little blonde more from memory than the four by six inch photo she now held. She marveled at the way her senses melded whenever she beheld Jade's profile. Light and shadow became the touch of velvet when Jade's cheek skimmed her belly. Unvanishing lines across the blonde's forehead from years of hard work and intense worry became the poignant taste of salty tears, recalled from times she'd kissed them away. Sprays of tiny lines at the corner of each eye and shallow dimples in freckled cheeks became the heart-warming sound of billowing laughter.

Every feature on Jade's face said something about how she was feeling at any given moment. Laine's mind raced through hundreds of mental snapshots, each one reminding her of the way forehead wrinkles could mean happiness or concern, how smiles at the lips could be completely discounted by the look of sadness in those milky blue-green eyes, and how passion could be almost audible in a silent room as surrender relaxed every feature momentarily before filling it with raw wonder. There was nothing more beautiful to Laine than the sight of Jade's face, no matter what was behind its current expression.

One thing was for sure, though. If the little blonde had even the slightest clue about how many times Laine had hidden behind racks in stores or peeked around a door frame to stare at her face and further memorize its every nuance, she'd be blushing for weeks.


~lucky

*sigh*.
Exquisite.

 

[neonlyte]

Lucky

Nice piece, full of poignancy and perfume.

 

[gauchecritic]

"Forget the frippery" he said, reaching forward to pluck the glasses from their precarious balance on the end of her freckle-spread nose. "You only need them for reading."

She dropped her head forward, allowing the slick silk of her hair to curtain her reddening cheeks.

With the gentlest of pressure he placed a finger below the chisel point of her chin and drew her face to the light, whilst drawing apart the shimmering golden fall of hair with two fingers of the other hand.

A weak smile revealed a glimpse of uneven, casually lipsticked teeth, which he rubbed clean with his thumb.

The action shocked them both, as green flecked irises drowning in inky lensed depth locked him mercilessly to her unbidden will.

He fell, gladly.

Gauche