I want to be good at writing tiny moments.
I want to make the ordinary sound extraordinary. I want to accurately describe the act of crumpling an empty chip bag in one hand and stuffing it into the driver’s side door. Or the way we shake our wet hands over the sink after washing them, grab a wad of napkins from the dispenser, and unenthusiastically wipe our hands before tossing the napkins into the overfilled metal trash bin. Or even the way we tug at our earlobes or fidget with our earrings when we’re deep in thought or in conversation.
But wait, there’s more!
Like the way we wiggle and stretch out our fingers after pulling on a latex glove that’s probably two sizes too small, or how we tear the plastic off a straw using our teeth, spitting out the top portion, then stab the straw on our thigh (or table, or middle console) to free the rest before inserting it into the cup and taking a long, satisfying swig of the contents inside.
Yes, I love those small, seemingly insignificant, yet universal habits that essentially make up who we are and I want to be good at writing them.
It never ceases to amaze me when a writer describes something so vividly that it makes me realize how we all live the same lives in different ways. It’s oddly comforting, actually.
I want to write about all of those moments we seldom give much thought to, because they are threads that tie every essence of our being together.
I recently read Emily Henry’s Funny Story, and in addition to the amazing chemistry between each of her characters, she is really good at writing the tiny moments that made every interaction between them so much more intentional and personal.
One of my favorite lines is from Chapter 10, when Henry describes the two main characters in the car eating fresh cherries they bought from a local food stand.
“Grinning, Miles grabs a Big Louie’s–branded napkin from the center console and mops up my chin before I can get cherry juice everywhere. He crumples the napkin into an empty paper cup in the cupholder, then spits out the pit from his cherry and holds the cup up for me to do the same, a strangely intimate gesture that makes my insides feel like they’ve been baking in the sun just a few minutes too long and will char if they’re not turned over soon.”
Something so simple yet so relatable. I never thought to describe the action of spitting seeds into a cup— a causal, everyday gesture we tend overlook. It’s those moments that are the hardest to capture because they are innately invisible.
I know it might seem strange, this sudden obsession with writing tiny moments, but my heart longs to swell with the familiar whisper of “I do that too” when I read moments like that. Like Emily Henry, I want my writing to be tangible.
Writing tiny moments requires one to live in the present and study it.
And if I’m being honest, there’s nothing tiny about those moments at all. They are simply fragments that form the entire mosaic of our existence.
How freaking cool is that?
-k.a.
Authors Note: I listened to Funny Story on audiobook because, one, Julia Whelan is an amazing narrator, and two, it was free with my Spotify premium subscription. (No, this is not an #ad).
There was a two-month wait on Libby, and I wasn’t up for waiting that long. Small confession: after finishing the audiobook, I bought the book on Kindle, not because it was the best book I’d read, but because I enjoyed the authors writing style and I wanted to study it.
Emily Henry knows how to write a good, humorous, and relatable fiction story. Was it a hasty purchase? Maybe. But when I find a writing style I enjoy and feel inspired to incorporate some elements into my own work, I’m more than willing to invest in those words. I’d hope someone would do the same for me. Anyway, this was a very nerdy post.
Thanks for indulging me in this one-way vent session about my quirky passions.
This week, I encourage you to explore what excites you, and pursue it!
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swallowed up by
was so raw and transparent. Great read!
Lovely noticings! To write about the things nobody talks about. In my writing I hear this as a challenge, something I can't resist doing.
Something about knowing what a writer yearns to achieve most with their words feels so wildly intimate and sweet. I find it so endearing every time. Thank you for sharing with us, Kiana!
I too, want to write to the tiny moments, but to make the less tangible experiences feel more tangible and less isolated. We all are made up of the same messy feelings and that is what I would hope to bring to life more. Your piece today was a much needed reminder of that.