Even better, he’s finally fulfilled his life-long ambition to create a math curriculum that inspires the student by tying math with wonder, meaning, applications, & philosophy. He calls it “The Dance of Number.” Perhaps the myth of mathematics having no applicability to life and daily inspirition are finally over!
By using sensory words to evoke sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell; smart and attractive writers just like you are able to make their words burst to life in their readers’ minds.
In this post, you’ll learn:
The science behind sensory details (e.g. why sensory words are so persuasive);
The definition of sensory words (plus examples);
How answering five simple questions will help you write descriptive words that pack your content with sensory language;
500+ sensory words you can incorporate into your own writing (right now).
Let’s dive in.
The Colossal Power of Sensory Details
Remember the final scene in Field of Dreams when Ray Kinsella has a catch with his dad?
You can smell the grass on the field.
You can hear the sound of the baseball hitting their gloves.
And you can feel Ray’s years of guilt melting away as he closes his eyes, smiles, and tosses the ball back to his dad.
(Be honest. You’re crying right now, aren’t you?)
Field of Dreams made you feel like you were in Ray’s shoes, on his field, playing catch with dad.
The scene creates such a vivid experience for many viewers that whenever they think of playing catch, this scene will come up alongside their own childhood memories.
Here’s why:
When you paint a strong scene in your audience’s mind, you make it easier for them to pull it back up from their memory. You’ve essentially bookmarked it for them so they can easily find it when something — a sight, a smell, a sound — reminds them of it.
That’s the power of content that incorporates sensory details.
And this power isn’t limited to cinema classics capable of making grown men cry. For centuries, literary giants have been packing their prose with powerful words that evoke the senses:
“Cry ‘Havoc,’ and let slip the dogs of war;
That this foul deed shall smell above the earth
With carrion men, groaning for burial”
— William Shakespeare (circa 1599)
In addition to The Bard, authors like Maya Angelou, Edgar Allan Poe, and Charles Dickens excel at sensory language. So do literally every famous poet you learned about in school.
And that begs the obvious question…
Why are Sensory Details so Effective?
Short answer:
Our brains handle sensory words differently than ordinary words.
In a recent article, Matt McManus drew a valuable distinction between postmodern culture and postmodern philosophy. Postmodern culture, he argued, was first theorized by neo-Marxists to refer to what they saw as a new phase of capitalism, characterized by heightened skepticism and a preoccupation with subjectivity. However, one need not adopt Marxist social theory in order to agree with the basic point that the social conditions which characterize twenty-first-century liberal democracies make it difficult to take our beliefs for granted. The unprecedented degree of cultural and religious pluralism on offer in developed nations today undoubtedly has an impact on what we can take to be certain.
Charles Taylor in his masterpiece A Secular Age called this process “fragilization,” the basic idea of which is that it is more difficult to believe in something wholeheartedly when that belief is not shared by the people one is surrounded by (indeed, we might call this sociology of knowledge 101). So, there is a real sense in which we do in fact live in a post- (or what I would prefer to call “late”) modern culture, whereby our awareness of the existence of “other options”—made especially acute as a result of recent digital technologies—fragilizes our beliefs, leaving us without firm epistemic anchors. This illuminates a significant but seldom acknowledged reason why postmodern philosophy finds traction today.
So what characterizes postmodern thought? In The Postmodern Condition: A Report on Knowledge, Jean Lyotard defines postmodernism as “incredulity towards metanarratives.” According to Lyotard, postmodernism is a critical response to the presumption of ultimate truth embodied in modernist doctrines as wide-ranging as Enlightenment liberalism, Marxist Socialism, and Religious Fundamentalism. Postmodernists follow Friedrich Nietzsche in endorsing a radical epistemological skepticism embodied in what is often called a “hermeneutics of suspicion.”
While I think postmodern philosophy is interesting and even sometimes instructive, I am convinced that in practice it is often incoherent, not to mention politically self-refuting. But this raises the question: why, if postmodern philosophy has been shown to be so intellectually and politically confused (by observers on both the Left and Right), does it remain so popular?
“I Have No Worldview”
In the summer of 2017, I attended a conference on Science and Religion at Oxford University. In a session on the concept of the “secular,” I listened to a speaker give a paper that, in fine postmodern fashion, went about deconstructing all existing definitions of the “secular” within the academic literature. This speaker applied a hermeneutics of suspicion with great skill to these discourses, identifying how they were not only socially constructed but also how they served the nefarious ends of their various proponents.
It was a well-argued paper that left me impressed but also puzzled. The speaker had deconstructed all of these accounts but supplied no alternative account. After the session ended I approached him to inquire about this. But he just stared at me blankly, as if I had just asked him how to tie my own shoelaces. This was not his job, he told me. He seemed to believe an alternative account to be unnecessary. I wanted to know what underlying values and beliefs were motivating his critique so I asked him to describe his worldview. He responded, “I have no worldview.”
At the time, this response shocked me, but I generously took it to mean something like: the way I see the world does not fit neatly into your constructed categories, or, I won’t let myself be boxed in. However, having since read scores of books informed by postmodern philosophy and debated the topic with countless disciples of Foucault, I have come to think this speaker’s statement meant something quite different.
Postmodern Philosophy as Debating Strategy
It seems to me that postmodernism is popular—especially among academics—not merely because of the social and cultural conditions of late modernity, but because it is immensely powerful as a tool or strategy of argument. For how can you possibly refute a person’s position when they deny even having one? In turn, arguing with someone who subscribes to postmodern thought is like fighting someone who has nothing to lose. There is no winning.
I have experienced this repeatedly in graduate seminars and at conferences. I will make a substantive judgment about history or some event, and some postmodern junkie will reply that I am merely reproducing a socially constructed discourse. In these moments, it’s hard to know what to do. I usually end up keeping quiet, but then I can’t help thinking the person who just deconstructed my truth claim doesn’t actually believe what they’re peddling. Because how could you possibly live a human life really believing that there is no ultimate truth?
Postmodern philosophy affords a position of power within the academy because it arms the scholar with tools to pick apart everyone else’s work, without leaving itself open to objections or refutations. By feigning a position of critical neutrality, the postmodern critic can stand back and deconstruct everyone else’s discourses, as if they occupy an Archimedean point.
But the postmodern critic has entered into a Faustian bargain: they have traded in their humanity—rooted in the need for meaning and coherence—in order to win arguments. I realize this sounds a bit over the top, but I can’t think of a better way to put it. Postmodern philosophy gives you the power to crush any intellectual opponent because it allows you to make the case that everything they believe is socially constructed, corrupt, oppressive, or all of the above.
As a result, a commitment to postmodern thought is likely to breed one of two things: severe existential angst and disenchantment or hypocrisy.
Writing a thesis is a huge accomplishment, and in today’s guest post Tracy Stanley discusses how all the work you put into that project doesn’t have to end once the thesis is submitted to your academic advisors. As always, your writing can be turned into more than one asset; it’s possible to turn that thesis into something you can sell.
I spent four years researching and writing for a Ph.D. on the topic of How Work Environments Contribute to Creative Behaviours and Employee Engagement.
When submitted it was 103,850 words and I knew that no more than six people in the world would read it. As a result, it was unlikely to have an impact on anything. Yes, I’d written shorter academic articles, but these were also designed for a mainly academic audience.
I wanted to share what I’d learned to a different audience, to managers, and to share the main messages in my own voice, not my carefully restrained academic voice.
Starting was hard
The journey took me a couple of years. Like many, I suffered from the Jekyll and Hyde phenomena of thinking:
Who am I to write this book?
to
Of course, I can write a book.
This imposter syndrome plagues many writers and I highly recommend you read, The Successful Author Mindset by Joanna Penn before starting the journey as it will help you to confront your demons.
Next, write a book proposal that you might send to an agent or publisher, (even if you don’t and choose to take the self-publishing route). Think of your proposal as a pitch – so use marketing language to communicate its value in terms of content and your value as the subject matter expert.
The proposal will help you to organize your thinking and to focus on your audience and their pain points.
The book proposal should include:
Problems the book addresses for a specific market;
Value that will be provided to the reader in terms of pain points addressed;
A proposed title;
Evidence that there is a need for the book based on market research. This should come from an analysis of similar books in the marketplace and from talking with people impacted by the problem you are solving; and a
Contents page.
As you did with your Ph.D., write your contents page as soon as you can. This will help to organize your thinking. We know that it will probably change, but it’s a great starting point.
Having written a Ph.D., you are unlikely to suffer from a lack of content. Indeed you may be able to repurpose your research into several books. I could see that I could split my thesis fairly easily into two books around the themes of employee engagement and creativity.
I suggest that you look at your Abstract and Contributions of the Study chapters in your thesis to glean key areas you want to draw on in your book. But do not do a direct copy and paste as you will be copying your academic voice as well.
One of my favorite ways to read the Bible is to listen to it being read aloud. By listening, instead of reading, I can more easily focus on the story the words are intended to convey. If that seems child-like it’s because it is. It’s also the most demanding and thrilling “reading” I’ve ever done. And, if sophisticated describes “the degree of complexity or that which appeals to those with worldly knowledge or experience” then, yeah, it’s that too.
I would argue that books are the “new kid on the block” for human communication. People have been telling each other stories since there was a second pair of ears to hear them. And the first person to exist probably told stories to themself! How long after storytelling did books come about? Nobody knows. But there’s is no doubt about which came first.
We didn’t go through all “TEN STEPS TO PREPARE FOR A FAST” that Victoria recommends:
Define problem areas and target goals
Get your spouse and other caregivers on board
Set a date and create a schedule
Inform relevant adults in your child’s life
Obtain toys, games, and activities to replace screen-time
Schedule breaks or treats for yourself
If possible, enlist a playmate’s parents to join you
Inform your child and involve the entire family
Perform a thorough “screen sweep”
Set your intentionMy wife and I talked for an hour on Friday night mapping out activities, games, and alternatives and how to break the news to the kids. Then, on Monday, we went cold-turkey on the ipads for both boys.
My wife and I talked for an hour on Friday night, mapping out activities, games, and alternatives, and how to break the news to the kids. Then, on Monday, we went cold-turkey on the ipads for both boys.
The Results?
After two weeks, the symptoms were gone! Now, at four months, the absence of these two “little” ipads in their lives (and ours) has been working out, splendidly.
The ipads were replaced with more outdoor time, interactions between them and with us, looking out the window on the way to school, lots of storytelling, and one thing we’ve still got to work on: watching Japanese dance videos on YouTube (via the TV).
Storytelling Design
The bromide that “Children are natural storytellers” is true, but it’s deeper than that. Children live in the story version of their lives, going in and out of what we adults would call the “real” version.
Here’s Lucas living in his story. Notice that his dad is standing six-feet away, recording him, but he takes no notice. Then, when his stuffed animal drops, he’s jarred into the “Real” life of eating his cereal.
Have you ever tried to get a yes or no answer from a child? They answer every question with a story because they’re living in one. By telling you a story, they’re not evading; they’re giving you a more complete answer.
Rory’s Story Cubes
A month after the ipads “disappeared”, I found a game that fit Victoria’s advice to replace screen-time with other activities: Rory’s Story Cubes.
They come in packs of nine cubes. The 6-sides of each cube has a picture on it of either a thing or an action (a noun or verb in adult-speak). You roll the cubes and make a story out of the ones that roll face-up.
As I was reading the box, and wondering if the game would be too much for our 4-year-old, Lucas rolled the cubes and cut me off saying, “Once upon a time …”
It was more than adorable; it was wondrous to watch his brain firing on all cylinders, reaching into the vast experiences of his four years of life experience, and telling us a story. “Can you believe this?!”, I asked my wife.
It’s not only possible; it’s their preferred means of expression. Children are designed to communicate in story. Before they have words for the things around them, before they put words together in sentences, they’re tracking the story of what’s happening to them, and around them. A few weeks after they’re born they look at you while you’re changing their diaper and you can see them taking it all in. There are no words, but they’re recording the beginnings of their own story.
The Gillespie Cubes
When playing, we give each player six cubes to roll for a new story. We have 27 cubes in all (Rory’s 9-cube starter and 9-cube action sets, 3-cube pre-historia, 3-cube sports, and 3-cube medic sets). If I was purchasing for the first time, again, I’d get this bundle:
As long as you have the self-contained 9-cube starter set there’s no wrong way to add to the set.
If you’re expecting this article to end with us going through every step of the book and living happily-ever-after, that didn’t happen. Although Victoria’s book outlines steps to reintegrate screen-time back into your child’s life in a non-destructive way, we haven’t even thought about bringing the ipads back to battery life. We’re on pause, for now, and not looking for the “play” button.
There are a few things that would make me reconsider: if the Kahn Academy greatly improves their app, or a similar life-changing technology appears on the scene. If so, we’ll make the kids earn every minute of screen-time like an allowance. Until then, we’ll stick with the best killer apps, of all: playing outdoors, talking with people, reading, and telling stories.
by Victoria L. Dunckley, MD
It’s not only possible; it’s their preferred means of expression. Children are designed to communicate in story. Before they have words for the things around them, before they put words together in sentences, they’re tracking the story of what’s happening to them, and around them. A few weeks after they’re born they look at you while you’re changing their diaper and you can see them taking it all in. There are no words, but they’re recording the beginnings of their own story.
