We left Libby’s last answer on a fiddle – one clear note, and how you know a piece of writing is finally done. This week, she goes back to the beginning: what we were getting wrong on the page, before any of it was ready.
You workshopped us on description – specifically on reaching for something other than metaphors and similes. What were we doing wrong, and what changed?
“Again, on some level, you just needed to give yourself permission to have fun with the language and embody the people, places, and things. One of the primary scenes in the novel is a Thanksgiving shared by the characters. What a perfect opportunity to dive into all the senses! The smells, sounds, textures, of course, but also the emotional heft of holidays and family and expectations. And then there’s the setting: what does it look like and feel like to be driving up to the Grange, going into this ancient-feeling wine cellar, sitting on the carpet in a pristine dressing room filled with designer clothing the character doesn’t want to wear? Aren’t we much more interested in that, leaning in towards it, rather than ‘the turkey and stuffing were delicious’?
“You just needed to be a lot more free, as writers, and I think, because the characters are imagined people who are loosely based on the actual people, you had to break free of that. You had to stop thinking, whether conscious or subconscious, ‘well, he’d never do that!’ And think more about whether the character would do it or say it. You had to have a much better love affair with your imaginations.
“With regards to metaphors and similes, these are incredibly useful, and you need to use them when it’s right. They help us understand the abstractions by comparing them to the known. And clichés are clichés because they used to be interesting ways of saying things! The exercise of description without resorting to figures of speech is just that: an exercise in getting as close to truth-telling as you can.”
What’s the most common mistake first-time novelists make?
“Thinking it’ll be easy. Thinking it’ll be quick to publication once they write it. Giving up. Holding the hope that your writing will make you a lot of money. All of those expectations create a film or residue over the creative process. The commerce of book writing has changed wildly in the past 15 years, and on some level, it’s easier to publish a book more than ever. But that’s different from inhabiting your life as a writer, as an artist. If that’s what you want, you do it no matter what. And it’s also okay to want your book to be read and enjoyed by others, too.”
Next up: Libby on the thing that stops so many women from writing at all — and the sentence that made both of us want to publish it as its own post.
For your Boston Wife — wherever she is.
One space remains on our Highland Retreat. Take a look and register your interest if you’d like to know more.
The suggestion to describe scenes as directly as possible aligns with research in cognitive psychology showing that concrete sensory details are often more memorable than abstract language.
I was also struck by the advice to focus on what the character would do rather than what the real-life inspiration would do, which reflects a broader creative principle that authenticity often emerges through imagination rather than strict factual fidelity.
Historically, many literary realists—from Chekhov onward—relied on precise observation before metaphor, using specific details to let meaning emerge naturally.
The result is a form of “showing” that invites readers to construct the emotional significance themselves, making the experience more immersive and durable.
You're both so incredibly generous to share our "correspondence!" It's fun re-reading this here and remembering how much I LOVE this novel!!