Sample Descriptions
Sample Descriptions
use their five senses of touch, taste, smell, hearing, and sight to
understand the topic of the essay.
• Use of Images
Format
Heading (Topic)
• Topic sentence: The first sentence that introduces the main idea of
the paragraph
description. They give details to develop and support the main idea.
• Closing sentence: This is the last sentence. It restates the main idea
and sums up the
● Her last smile to me wasn’t a sunset. It was an eclipse, the last eclipse,
noon dying away to darkness where there would be no dawn.
● My Uber driver looked like a deflating airbag and sounded like talk
radio on repeat.
● The old man was bent into a capital C, his head leaning so far forward
that his beard nearly touched his knobby knees.
● The painting was a field of flowers, blues and yellows atop deep green
stems that seemed to call the viewer in to play.
● My dog’s fur felt like silk against my skin and her black coloring shone,
absorbing the sunlight and reflecting it back like a pure, dark mirror.
● The sunset filled the sky with a deep red flame, setting the clouds
ablaze.
● The waves rolled along the shore in a graceful, gentle rhythm, as if
dancing with the land.
● Winter hit like a welterweight that year, a jabbing cold you thought you
could stand until the wind rose up and dropped you to the canvas.
"A Friendly Clown"
"On one corner of my dresser sits a smiling toy clown on a tiny unicycle―a
gift I received last Christmas from a close friend. The clown's short yellow
hair, made of yarn, covers its ears but is parted above the eyes. The blue
eyes are outlined in black with thin, dark lashes flowing from the brows. It
has cherry-red cheeks, nose, and lips, and its broad grin disappears into the
wide, white ruffle around its neck. The clown wears a fluffy, two-tone nylon
costume. The left side of the outfit is light blue, and the right side is red.
The two colors merge in a dark line that runs down the center of the small
outfit. Surrounding its ankles and disguising its long black shoes are big
pink bows. The white spokes on the wheels of the unicycle gather in the
center and expand to the black tire so that the wheel somewhat resembles
the inner half of a grapefruit. The clown and unicycle together stand about
a foot high. As a cherished gift from my good friend Tran, this colorful
figure greets me with a smile every time I enter my room."
Observe how the writer moves clearly from a description of the head
of the clown to the body to the unicycle underneath. More than
sensory details for the eyes, she provides touch, in the description
that the hair is made of yarn and the suit of nylon. Certain colors are
specific, as in cherry-red cheeks and light blue, and descriptions help
the reader to visualize the object: the parted hair, the color line on the
suit, and the grapefruit analogy. Dimensions overall help to provide
the reader with the item's scale, and the descriptions of the size of the
ruffle and bows on the shoes in comparison to what's nearby provide
telling detail. The concluding sentence helps to tie the paragraph
together by emphasizing the personal value of this gift.
"Gregory"
by Barbara Carter
"Gregory is my beautiful gray Persian cat. He walks with pride and grace,
performing a dance of disdain as he slowly lifts and lowers each paw with
the delicacy of a ballet dancer. His pride, however, does not extend to his
appearance, for he spends most of his time indoors watching television and
growing fat. He enjoys TV commercials, especially those for Meow Mix and
9 Lives. His familiarity with cat food commercials has led him to reject
generic brands of cat food in favor of only the most expensive brands.
Gregory is as finicky about visitors as he is about what he eats, befriending
some and repelling others. He may snuggle up against your ankle, begging
to be petted, or he may imitate a skunk and stain your favorite trousers.
Gregory does not do this to establish his territory, as many cat experts
think, but to humiliate me because he is jealous of my friends. After my
guests have fled, I look at the old fleabag snoozing and smiling to himself in
front of the television set, and I have to forgive him for his obnoxious, but
endearing, habits."
The writer here focuses less on the physical appearance of her pet
than on the cat's habits and actions. Notice how many different
descriptors go into just the sentence about how the cat walks:
emotions of pride and disdain and the extended metaphor of the
dancer, including the phrases the "dance of disdain," "grace," and
"ballet dancer." When you want to portray something through the use
of a metaphor, make sure you are consistent, that all the descriptors
make sense with that one metaphor. Don't use two different
metaphors to describe the same thing, because that makes the image
you're trying to portray awkward and convoluted. The consistency
adds emphasis and depth to the description.
"Once in a long while, four times so far for me, my mother brings out the
metal tube that holds her medical diploma. On the tube are gold circles
crossed with seven red lines each―"joy" ideographs in abstract. There are
also little flowers that look like gears for a gold machine. According to the
scraps of labels with Chinese and American addresses, stamps, and
postmarks, the family airmailed the can from Hong Kong in 1950. It got
crushed in the middle, and whoever tried to peel the labels off stopped
because the red and gold paint came off too, leaving silver scratches that
rust. Somebody tried to pry the end off before discovering that the tube falls
apart. When I open it, the smell of China flies out, a thousand-year-old bat
flying heavy-headed out of the Chinese caverns where bats are as white as
dust, a smell that comes from long ago, far back in the brain."
"Inside, the school smelled smartly of varnish and wood smoke from the
potbellied stove. On gloomy days, not unknown in upstate New York in this
region south of Lake Ontario and east of Lake Erie, the windows emitted a
vague, gauzy light, not much reinforced by ceiling lights. We squinted at the
blackboard, that seemed far away since it was on a small platform, where
Mrs. Dietz's desk was also positioned, at the front, left of the room. We sat
in rows of seats, smallest at the front, largest at the rear, attached at their
bases by metal runners, like a toboggan; the wood of these desks seemed
beautiful to me, smooth and of the red-burnished hue of horse chestnuts.
The floor was bare wooden planks. An American flag hung limply at the far
left of the blackboard and above the blackboard, running across the front of
the room, designed to draw our eyes to it avidly, worshipfully, were paper
squares showing that beautifully shaped script known as Parker
Penmanship."
Sources
● Kingston, Maxine Hong. The Woman Warrior: Memoirs of a Girlhood Among
Ghosts. Vintage, 1989.
● Oates, Joyce Carol. The Faith of a Writer: Life, Craft, Art. HarperCollins
e-books, 2009.
Here are a few tips to hone your writing skills and get the descriptive language just right:
He was a rich man: banker, merchant, manufacturer, and what not. A big, loud man, with
a stare, and a metallic laugh. A man made out of a coarse material, which seemed to have
been stretched to make so much of him. A man with a great puffed head and forehead,
swelled veins in his temples, and such a strained skin to his face that it seemed to hold his
eyes open, and lift his eyebrows up. A man with a pervading appearance on him of being
infl ated like a balloon, and ready to start. A man who could never suffi ciently vaunt himself a
self-made man. A man who was always proclaiming, through that brassy speaking-trumpet
of a voice of his, his old ignorance and his old poverty. A man who was the Bully of humility.
A year or two younger than his eminently practical friend, Mr Bounderby looked older;
his seven or eight and forty might have had the seven or eight added to it again, without
surprising anybody. He had not much hair. One might have fancied he had talked it off; and
that what was left, all standing up in disorder, was in that condition from being constantly
the sun shone; partly because the shade of Stone Lodge was
Not that a ditch was new to me, for I was born in a ditch.’
Charles Dickens