Sketching a scene

As you will have noticed if you've read much of my creative writing, I am particularly fond of storytelling in bite-sized pieces. A particular favourite technique of mine for this purpose is the vignette, which is notable for its preference for imagery over plot. They are necessarily concise, usually coming in at less than 1000 words, and focus on creating a detailed description of a particular moment in time, like a candid photograph. You will often find vignettes incuded as scenes within a larger narrative or in collections of short fiction about a particular theme, such as Tim O'Brien's The Things They Carried, but they might also be fully standalone pieces.

The vignette developed in the latter half of the 19th century as a form of literary sketch, pulling together an idea quickly without being weighed down by contextual details. The key element that separates a vignette from other short prose forms, such as flash fiction, is plot—specifically, the lack of it. Where short fiction tells a story with a beginning, middle and end, a vignette doesn't engage in the development of action or characters, nor does it adhere to narrative structure: its only aim is to capture a moment as vividly as possible. Vignettes are perfect for slice-of-life pieces, and became popular with Victorian-era journalists and writers like Charles Dickens as a way to portray everyday moments in the lives of common people; they have some room for imagination and speculation about their subjects, but retain a sense of immediacy and connection to reality in a way that most fiction struggles to achieve.

Like a drawn sketch, a vignette can be a good starting place around which you can build up a larger story, or it could be a good method to help you discern particular elements such as characters, settings, or themes. I have often used vignettes as the basis for my shorter pieces; I write an initial impression at one point when inspiration strikes, and when I pick it up later I expand upon it and add some elements of plot. You may not necessarily include these developmental vignettes in your completed work, but they can be very useful for helping you understand the story better.

Vignettes can also make for good writing exercises, especially if you want to practise descriptive techniques or your own observational skills; taking some time to really examine what you're currently experiencing and find an interesting way to express that in words is a great way to keep connected with both your writing skills and your life experiences. Think about the sensory elements of the moment you're describing, or the emotional effect it inspires. Don't think too hard about cause and effect, or the whys. Instead, focus on what is happening, and how it is happening. Consider using vivid descriptions, metaphors, or symbolism to build up your picture, and see how much you can communicate without straying from your moment.

Of course, vignettes don't necessarily have to come from life (at least, not your own). Here's an example of one vignette I wrote as an exercise for a creative writing class:

To look around me, it would seem that nothing had changed. The world turns on, the autumn leaves again take on their russet hue, and even the lonely matriarch on the hill keeps an iron grip on the town. There is a crispness in the air that would in normal circumstances be comforting.

But tonight—tonight I cannot ignore the insidious chill. I sit alone—in the dark, on the hill, in my car—with the loss. It chokes me from the inside out, reaching up through my ribs to grasp at my throat. I can hear, in the distance, the sound of a radio. Young lovers have always come here to conduct their secret business; it seems they come here still. I used to smile at their furtive antics, the earnestness of them. But tonight, I am angered by them. I want them to go home—they should be with their families. Don’t they know that the world has been irreparably torn? Don’t they know? Don’t they care?

I start the car to go back to my own home. As I switch on the headlights, I catch the warning stripe of a skunk disappearing into the foliage.

In this exercise, I wanted to focus on communicating a particular emotion, which in this case was grief. Using that as my central theme, I drew on particular images that supported the core emotion and related themes: autumn leaves for change, a seasonal chill and a dark night to reflect the character's loneliness and loss, the physical expression of strong emotion choking the body. (Sadly, I don't remember what the skunk was supposed to represent.)

I could expand on this moment if I wanted to—who is the character grieving? What happened to them? Who is the matriarch on the hill, and why is she important to the town? Alternatively, I could just leave it as the snapshot it is, distilling the emotion of the moment into its most powerful form. Perhaps it's more effective not to have the context, and just sit with the experience.

However you use vignette in your own work, whether it's as technical practice, a prepatory sketch, a moment of pause in a larger plot, or its own polished self, I highly recommend becoming familiar with this technique. Give it a try, if you have a moment spare! Summon up an image, or observe what's around you, and do your best to express that experience. Who knows what you might be able to inspire in yourself!