11. Telling the story that breathes


The typical ways writers study and practice storytelling often encourage us to conflate “paying attention” to our craft with catching errors or imperfections.

We try to pay our best, most granular attention to the words on the page, in order to bring them closer to some standard of excellence. And at certain points during revision, there’s not actually anything wrong with that.

But when this type of attention seeps into your full drafting process, it messes up your ability to pay attention in ways that aren’t critical or catastrophic or hypervigilant. You can lose the ability to really be present with the story – to find the language that breathes.

This month, I’m exploring ways to pay attention as we write that can take us deeper into presence and relationship with our stories. Ways to write as a living, breathing, imagining storyteller, and not as our own worst critic.


Writing praxis tips


In the episode, I focused on the breath as a physical pathway into the somatic space of a story. But breath isn’t the only option for this kind of practice; any kind of tangible sensory connection can help ground you in the story space.

This month’s tip is a quick checklist to help you identify which senses serve as your own most powerful portals into a more embodied experience as you write (either as an alternative to the breath, or to supplement it).

First, you’ll be doing a basic sensory scan of a scene you’re currently working on. As you work your way through the list, write down quick notes on whatever you sense (even if some of it seems a little weird – that’s often the good stuff).

Whenever you’re trying to get grounded in a scene through the senses, I recommend beginning with either color or smell. Starting with one of these two senses tends to trigger other buried embodied connections (including breath!), because we often have a lot of fertile creative associations with color and scent that we’re not fully aware of.

1. Color – Imagine the colors that surround your characters in this scene. What are the first ones that jump out? Do any of these colors surprise you? What colors can you discover when you imagine the details of the setting, the more subtle layers? What objects or figures do you notice most when you pay close attention to color?

2. Smell – If you were standing in this scene, what would you smell? Start by considering anything obvious like plants, animals, etc. Then let your imagination fill in more details – if the scene is set in a marketplace, would you smell food or incense? If the scene is near the ocean, would you smell the sea and beach wrack?

3. Sound – Now imagine what you hear in this scene. If there are figures, are they saying anything? Is it a loud place, or a quiet one? What sounds do you notice, and how would your characters react to them?

4. Sensation – Take a breath and picture your whole body inside the story. What do you feel on your skin? Imagine the temperature, the weather, the state of your body. Are you hungry or tired? What do the objects in the scene feel like when you touch them?

5. Taste – Even if there’s no food in the scene, don’t neglect this last sense. Often, what hidden leads to the most powerful intuitive discoveries. Does the air have a taste, or the water? Do any of the smells, sounds, or sensations that your other senses revealed bring a taste to mind?

Now that you’ve gone through this sensory checklist, jot down any additional notes you want to make on which senses felt the most immediately evocative and grounding. These senses can become your go-to path into an embodied, somatic connection with your writing.


Episode resources


The Spell of the Sensuous, David Abram’s classic work on language, ecology, and perception

The Emerald podcast, Joshua Schrei

Ren+Spiritwork, Ren Zatopek