The Interatomic Universe of Detail

A post by Tony Grooms

Photo by Greg Rakozy on Unsplash

Scientists, both mad and otherwise, have long searched for the most elemental particles of existence. Ironically, it takes the largest machines in the world to find the smallest particles. So far, we have gotten things down to various kinds of quarks, the components of electrons, protons, and neutrons. They are infinitesimal—but very useful—and likely their use will drive much of the technology of the future, an idea that emphasizes that it is the micro, not the mega that is the ultimate creator.

As quarks help to construct the universe, details help to fabricate stories. They work granularly, and so, color the story’s structures and incite the readers imagination. Without detail, stories may progress from beginning to middle to end, but likely in such a dull way that readers are neither engaged nor convinced.

Details, of course, are features derived from observation. All observations are made with the senses—a box is square because we see it is; a lily is sweet because we smell it. Thus, it is redundant to admonish that writers employ “sensory” detail, none the less I do because it reminds us—when editing—to write concrete details and not generalizations or emotional abstractions. Sadness, hopefulness, and joy are not sensory details, though we feel them deeply. Nor do they lead us to observe details—it is quite the reverse—details lead the readers to the emotions that writers are aiming for with our stories. The cliched opening, “It was a dark and stormy night,” illustrates this well. “Dark” and “stormy” are observable features and are meant to lead the reader to a sense of dread.

Providing an underpinning for emotion, which is to say for literary effect, is just one way in which details support a story. In this brief essay, written under the duress of beginning a new year, I will discuss a few more. But first let’s consider the importance of detail to story.