If great characters are what give life to a story, underpainting is what gives life to the characters.
Underpainting is the technique of adding the everyday minutiae to your scenes -- the cutting glance, the raspy tone, the chilling touch, the exotic scent and the voluptuous taste. Just as real people are more than what we say, our characters are more than their dialogue. They need to do things, touch things, hear, listen, smell to really live on the page. That’s not to say they need to dance and sing their way through the plot, but giving them actions and scenes that engage the readers’ five senses is key to any great story.
Underpainting is description, yes, but it’s more about the little things that add realism to the world you’re building. A writer can say a character sits down in an office chair, but by adding realistic touches such as the hushed rasp of leather or squeak of a wheel adds the kind of detail that most of us register without noticing, unless it is absent. If a character is cooking, what are they doing? Cutting up vegetables, skilfully or not; stirring a bubbling pot of red sauce that is spicy enough to make one’s eyes water; tearing the rip-strip from a frozen dinner, noisily stabbing a fork, pop! Pop! Pop! in the plastic and shoving the little black tray in the microwave?
Here’s an example of a scene written without underpainting. It’s from my current work-in-progress, Three Wishes. My heroine, Cassandra – who is secretly in love with her co-worker, consultant David – has just been startled out of her wits by the shocking, magical arrival of a strange woman in her tiny apartment during an I Dream of Jeanie marathon. Jane, as the woman quickly introduces herself, is a genie.
“Well, excuse me if you don’t look like any genie I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, you mean like this?” Jane snapped her fingers. From one blink to the next, she went from lounging on the loveseat in leather and angora to hovering over a brass, Aladdin-style lamp, wearing nothing more than strings of jewels and transparent purple veils. Jane snapped her fingers again. Away went the veils and lamp.
“What is it with people? Always with the theatrics,” she said. “Sorry to disappoint you, Princess Jasmine, but I don’t do a song-and-dance routine with an elephant and a flying carpet with language issues.”
“All right, Jane. Let’s say I believe you. You’re a genie. The genie of the bottle. So, what’s next?”
“Your three wishes, of course.”
Cassie didn’t know what to say. Wishes? That didn’t seem to matter to Jane, who continued in a business-like tone. “Let’s talk ground rules.”
“Sure. Let’s.”
“First, you’ve gotta understand I’m not your usual sort of genie.”
“Oh, I can believe it.”
“I cater to a special kind of … we’ll call them ‘clients’.”
Cassie nodded.
“Forget about fame, fortune, world peace — my wishes are much more personal in nature. Intimate. Your deepest, darkest desires.”
“So that means …?”
“Silly woman! I will make your fantasies come true.”
“Fantasies. But I don’t have any fantasies.”
Jane snorted. “Shyeah. Sweetie, I know what you were thinking about your neighbor’s hunk of the week. Kyle, wasn’t it?”
“So he was attractive. I can admit it. So what? Besides, I barely even thought …”
“Gotta hand it to you, Cass, you sure can pack at lot of action into a few seconds of prurient thoughts.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“Not that I’m complaining. Professionally speaking, I like creative thinkers.” Before Cassie could stutter out another protest, Jane waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, back to business. Your wishes.”
“Wishes. Right. By all means, let’s get to the wishes.”
And here’s the same scene, with the underpainting:
“Well, excuse me if you don’t look like any genie I’ve ever seen.”
“Oh, you mean like this?” Jane snapped her fingers. From one blink to the next, she went from lounging on the loveseat in leather and angora to hovering over a brass, Aladdin-style lamp, wearing nothing more than strings of jewels and transparent purple veils. Not one part of her body touched the floor. Cassie’s jaw dropped. With a jangle of gold bracelets, Jane snapped her fingers again. Away went the veils and lamp. The supple leather pants barely made a sound as Jane settled back on the loveseat, propped her heels on the footstool and crossed her long legs at the ankles.
“What is it with people? Always with the theatrics,” she said. “Sorry to disappoint you, Princess Jasmine, but I don’t do a song-and-dance routine with an elephant and a flying carpet with language issues.” Jane muttered something that sounded like, “Damn that Disney guy, anyway.”
“All right, Jane. Let’s say I believe you. You’re a genie.” Cassie was proud of herself for not stumbling over the word. “The genie of the bottle.” Swallowing the half-nervous, half-hysterical titter was harder. “So, what’s next?”
Jane twirled a lock of midnight black hair around one finger, the nail of which had been shaped into a perfect oval painted a pretty shell pink. “Your three wishes, of course.”
Cassie didn’t know what to say. Wishes? That didn’t seem to matter to Jane, who continued in a business-like tone. “Let’s talk ground rules.”
“Sure. Let’s.”
“First, you’ve gotta understand I’m not your usual sort of genie.”
“Oh, I can believe it.”
Jane’s brow quirked, as if she detected Cassie’s thinly shaded sarcasm, but chose to ignore it. “I cater to a special kind of … we’ll call them ‘clients’.”
Cassie nodded.
“Forget about fame, fortune, world peace — my wishes are much more personal in nature. Intimate. Your deepest, darkest desires.”
Again, Cassie nodded. When Jane didn’t elaborate, she prompted, “So that means …?”
“Silly woman! I will make your fantasies come true.” Jane folded her arms across her impressive chest with a self-satisfied nod, as if that explained everything.
“Fantasies. But I don’t have any fantasies.”
Jane snorted. “Shyeah. Sweetie, I know what you were thinking about your neighbor’s hunk of the week. Kyle, wasn’t it?”
Cassie felt the blood rush to her face in a mortified blush. “So he was attractive. I can admit it. So what? Besides, I barely even thought …”
Jane’s smile was slyly knowing. “Gotta hand it to you, Cass, you sure can pack at lot of action into a few seconds of prurient thoughts.”
“Oh, for the love of—”
“Not that I’m complaining. Professionally speaking, I like creative thinkers.” Before Cassie could stutter out another protest, Jane waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Anyway, back to business. Your wishes.”
“Wishes. Right. By all means, let’s get to the wishes.”
As you can see, the underpainting adds details, but those details are the gestures and thoughts that give life to the characters. Well, that’s the plan, anyway.
Often, I write the bare bones of a scene quickly – the dialogue and broad strokes of describing the characters and their surroundings – then do the underpainting on my second run-through.
It’s one of my favourite parts of writing. Who doesn’t like to add a little life to their world?
