When a story feels like fog and stone

Or, How atmospheric writing can connect to your readers, get you unstuck, and make your story True

One afternoon many Octobers ago, I walked into Russell Books in downtown Victoria, BC with a rather specific desire. When the impressively bearded fellow on shift asked what he could help me find, I replied, “I want a book that feels like footsteps on cobblestones in a thick fog.”
And that brilliant bookseller paused, looked at me thoughtfully and replied, “I have that book.”

He led me to Helene Wecker’s The Golem and the Jinni, a sweeping historical fantasy centered on the unlikely friendship between the titular two. And when I got home and turned those first pages, it absolutely felt grey and damp, couched in crumbling stone and low cloud. A book whose first pages sounded in my mind like a whisper reaching the ceiling of a cathedral.

This year, we’re two weeks away from the solstice and I’ve been revisiting my favourite “cold” reads. Books that feel like the burning tingle in your toes and ears as you come in from a snowy walk. Books that smell like sweet cherries in strong black tea, or the sharp mix of thyme, rosemary and garlic in a thick, bubbling soup. Books that sound like the squeak-crunch of snow on an untrodden path through quiet pines.

Atmospheric writing—that which treads so heavily on sensory experiences—is usually what brings me back to a book again and again. There are the lush feasts described in every Redwall book, the romantic winds and golden-edged ferns in LM Montgomery’s poetic landscapes, the lung-seizing cold of Katherine Arden’s Winternight Trilogy, and practically everything written by Jackie Morris. These are the stories that I feel in my body. Their sweetnesses or bitter flavours twinging the sides of my tongue. Their heartbeats and footsteps thudding heavily in my chest, or skittering lightly off my shoulders.

As a reader, atmospheric stories are as close as I’ve come to finding that door at the back of my wardrobe. As a writer, those immersive details are invaluable. I find that if I become stuck in a story—if I lose my grip on those crimson threads of characters and emotions and motivations—I can usually find my way back in by feeling.

When I think of the world I’m creating, I often ask: What does it sound like? Smell like? What tastes linger at the back of my throat? Where do I feel the story settling in my body? Does it spread like spiderweb filaments around me, light and elusive? Is it hard stone below my feet? (I was a poet far before I was a prose writer, so please forgive me if this is getting too woohoo for you—I promise it has practical applications.)

Once I have those impressions, it’s like a lantern suddenly aflame on a dark path, and I can begin to find my way back. Like word-association or free writing, diving into the atmosphere of your story can get you thinking in different directions, which can then unlock character motivation, setting description, plot issues and more. If my story feels like a rolling moor under a dome of blue sky, for example, then there’s a sense of freedom and wildness. The people there might be stubborn, maybe they’re argumentative, likely to do things their own way and consequently get into trouble for it. A story that feels drought-ridden with dust caught in your throat might have an edge of desperation instead, and a story that’s soft-focused with a dappled summer sun through birch leaves will be far different again.

However you approach it, including these sensory details makes reading the story an immersive experience, whether you have readers or you’re writing solely for yourself. And having a clear sense of the story’s heart will also help keep it feeling True, capital T. Plot can be absolutely absurd, but if the emotions are True, and the vibes are True, your story will come alive.

Atmospheric Prompts:

~Pick a setting in your story, then imagine you’re standing in the middle of it, eyes closed. What can you hear? Smell? Feel on your skin or under your feet? Spend a few minutes there in your mind, then free write for 5-10 minutes, catching all those details.

~Imagine your story inspires a scented candle or a perfume, and describe all the different scent notes.

Let me know if you tried one of the exercises, or if you’d like to see more writing prompts!

💚 Angela