I’ve been reading Victor LaValle’s latest, Devil in Silver, and there’s a reason why he’s one of the most talented writers out there today—he manages to capture humanity, a genuine emotion or idea, in the simplest of movements.
Take this example, from early in the novel:
: “Her long-sleeved top didn’t quite reach her jeans, so a band of her stomach showed and bulged out slightly, and she tugged at the bottom of her shirt to cover it. But the moment she let go, it slipped up again, showing skin. She yearned to be seen but felt awkward each time it happened” (LaValle 124).
Or this one, which appears a little later:
“Dorry landed on the side of her head. Her neck bent so hard, so fast, that for a moment her ear touched her elbow” (LaValle 299).
The first quote contains the essence of adolescence. You read it and think, “this is exactly what being a teenager felt like.” The second quote…well, I would go into detail, but I don’t want to say to much, yet I’ll say this: think about how hard it is to completely touch your elbow. (I’m doing it now, and I can get my elbow to touch my bicep, but not my elbow; perhaps my arms are too long?) Anyhow, this circus-like contortion perfectly demonstrates the physical/emotional struggles this particular character experiences…
I’ve made a commitment to try to be more observant, to notice more of the world around me. And examining the small details that make you fall in love with a book may be a good place to start.
Rochelle Spencer 