#scenery description

[aadhube]

What are the cons of using adjectives to describe characters, objects, scenery, things in general? How do you guys prefer to describe things?

When I have other people read my writing, I notice a lot of them mention the use of adjectives to describe things in my writing.

Eg: -The auburn strands of hair dangling over her almond eyes

-The reddish cherrywood exterior of the rifle

-The tanned businessman

-The ever-present booms of far-away artillery

-Starkly lit in his gray longcoat

-The bare, desolate, grayed-out wasteland Loriendor had become

-wide-eyed tabby cat

-The clear, azure sky above

-The verdant floodplains that stretched across the horizon

Now, I typically do this because I don't want to dedicate the focus of the paragraph specifically to description, but I do want to put an image of how the scene looks to readers; I put a lot of value in helping readers visualize the scene, without going too into the weeds and details.

But I have also had people imply that I use this method too much, as in multiple times within a single paragraph or even sentence! I suppose that actually might become a bit overwhelming over time.....

So how do you guys describe things? Do you dedicate description paragraphs/sentences for certain important characters/things, while reserving adjective description for less important things? Some books I read do give detailed descriptions of certain things that they want to bring into focus. For example, Tricia Levenseller's books dedicate like a paragraph itself to describing the dress the character has worn.

So I am actually kinda intrigued by authors' descriptions. To me, at least, it kinda feels like a window into what they are visualizing and what they want the reader to pay attention to? Sorta a window into their own selves, in a way? What do you guys notice about what you guys describe?

[aadhube]

A description of Valador I wrote as a piece of practice-writing, since I was bored and burnt out from writing my story.

A city of immense spires rising into the sky, silverine length gleaming in daylight and blue crystal tips glowing at nighttime. Banners of blue and silver and gold threading billow above the blessed steel walls, showing the imagery of the ruling Edelrath family. 

The cobbled, paved streets are neat and well-ordered throughout the entire city. No litter, no squatters, and certainly no human waste. The main avenues are kept well-cleared by diligent guards in their blue raiments and well-polished steel, so making your way from the outermost gate through all the successive walls could almost be called a breeze, except for the busiest of times.

Sturdy, tall buildings of oak-framed concrete rise up on both sides as you make your way down Valador’s wide-open avenues. Their roofs are steeply pitched into the sky, and even the commoners’ houses present solidly-framed windows of good glass.

But it is when you go further inside the city and witness the homes of the wealthy and the noble, that true luxury, in Olvensterner terms, presents itself. Neatly trimmed rows of flowers line their clean, stark white-and-gray walls, and doorways become larger and more elaborate until finally, houses become mansions with yards, enclosed by firm steel themselves. There, the full opulence of the Olvensterner nobility is displayed; teeming gardens of vivid flowers and fresh produce, estates that soar over a dozen storeys into the sky, intricate geometric patterns and script etched all over their marble walls and stained glass windows, and a distinct air of power that wafts through the air.

This journey finally ends when one comes up against one of four main gates of Valador’s central palace/citadel. Here, the walls rise up far, far higher than previously, and verses and commandments from Vallast, patron god of Olvenstern himself, are etched in enchanted sapphire all along the pure mythril walls. Inside, one might find softer beauty, but on the outside, the citadel presents a cold, regal aura, awing and repelling anyone from thinking they have a chance at forcing their way in.

[katajainen]

I think everyone has stood at the traffic lights after sunset, waiting to cross.

But have you ever looked up, without quite knowing the reason why, and seen the bland greying auburn in the horizon fade into pale turquoise and sharp cold petroleum blue, and up into a vast empty vault the colour of ink wherein hangs a single white-sparkling star?

You should. If not for else, then to remind yourself there’s yet beauty in this world to be found without seeking.