Speaker 1: In the spring of 1934, an aspiring writer named Arnold Samuelsson hitchhiked from Minnesota to Florida to see if he could land a meeting with his favorite author. Feeling discouraged over his writing, Samuelsson believed he needed a mentor to help him improve his craft. The writer he had picked to be his mentor? Ernest Hemingway. Samuelsson showed up at Hemingway's front door and begged the famous author for just a few minutes of conversation. Much to Samuelsson's delight, Hemingway agreed to talk with him and read some of his work. Although Hemingway wasn't particularly impressed by Samuelsson's writing, he was impressed by the 22-year-old's seriousness and dedication. Unfortunately, Hemingway had planned to leave Florida soon on his boat Pilar. But luckily for Samuelsson, Hemingway invited him to join the crew. While at sea, Samuelsson had the rare opportunity to pick Hemingway's brains about writing. In a 1935 article called Monologue to the Maestro, Hemingway shared some of the advice he had given Samuelsson. Samuelsson asked Hemingway, how can a writer train himself? And Hemingway gave him an exercise that would help Samuelsson sharpen his observational skills so he could vividly describe his experiences on paper. This exercise can be broken down into three steps and gives us a fantastic way to practice show-don't-tell in our writing. Step number one, pick a situation to observe closely and then try to retell it in words. For Samuelsson, this was fishing. For you, it might be commuting to work, or shopping at a store, or eating at a restaurant. Pay close attention to everything that is happening and the emotions that you experience. Hemingway writes, Watch what happens today. If we get into a fish, see exactly what it is that everyone does. If you get a kick out of it while he is jumping, remember back until you see exactly what the action was that gave you that emotion. Whether it was the rising of the line from the water and the way it tightened like a fiddle string until drops started from it, or the way he smashed and threw water when he jumped. Remember what the noises were and what was said. Find what gave you the emotion, what the action was that gave you the excitement. Then write it down, making it clear so the reader will see it too and have the same feeling you had. That's a five-finger exercise. This first step forces you to avoid vagueness in your writing. Don't just say that catching a fish is exciting. Be specific. Show us why. For example, in Hemingway's book, The Old Man and the Sea, he uses vivid descriptions to transport us to the fisherman Santiago's boat. He makes us feel the salt spray, the sun on Santiago's face, and Santiago's strength and then exhaustion as he desperately tries to reel in a marlin. After reading the book, we know a lot more about what it means to be a fisherman. Hemingway wrote, He looked across the sea and knew how alone he was now, but he could see the prisms in the deep dark water and the line stretching ahead and the strange undulation of the calm. The clouds are building up now for the trade wind, and he looked ahead and saw a flight of wild ducks etching themselves against the sky over the water, then blurring, then etching again, and he knew no man was ever alone on the sea. Step number two. Practice empathy by paying attention to the emotions and reactions of others in the situation you're observing. Empathy is the ability to understand and be sensitive to the feelings of others, to be able to see the world through another person's eyes. Hemingway told Samuelson that it was vital for a writer to develop a sense of empathy. He wrote, Then get in somebody else's head for a change. If I bawl you out, try to figure out what I'm thinking about, as well as how you feel about it. If Carlos curses Juan, think what both their sides of it are. Don't just think who is right. As a man, things are as they should or shouldn't be. As a man, you know who is right and who is wrong. You have to make decisions and enforce them. As a writer, you should not judge. You should understand. To use the old man in the sea as an example again, Hemingway describes Santiago so well that the character feels like an old friend by the time we finish the story. Hemingway let us get into Santiago's mind and see his dreams and passions, his courage and his loneliness. Here's another passage from the book. But in the dark now, and no glow showing, and no lights, and only the wind and the steady pull of the sail, he felt that perhaps he was already dead. He put his two hands together and felt the palms. They were not dead, and he could bring the pain of life by simply opening and closing them. He leaned his back against the stern and knew he was not dead. His shoulders told him. As you observe a situation, try to think about the feelings and motivations of those around you. What might that person be thinking who tried to cut in line in front of you? Why do you enjoy an art exhibit while your friend finds it boring? Imagine what it's like to be in the other person's shoes. If you write nonfiction, you can use empathy to think more deeply about the subjects you are writing. Why would others have a different opinion to yours? How can you respond to that opinion in your writing? Above all, practicing empathy encourages us to think about our readers. How can our writing engage and entertain our readers? How can we weave universal themes into our writing that they can relate to and be inspired by? Step number three, repeat steps one and two. In other words, practice, practice, practice. Writing more descriptively can be learned. Hemingway told Samuelson, Listen now. When people talk, listen completely. Don't be thinking what you're going to say. Most people never listen, nor do they observe. You should be able to go into a room, and when you come out, know everything that you saw there, and not only that. If that room gave you any feeling, you should know exactly what it was that gave you that feeling. Try that for practice. When you're in town, stand outside the theater and see how people differ in the way they get out of taxis or motor cars. There are a thousand ways to practice. And always think of other people. The ability to describe something vividly is an essential skill for every writer to master. Vivid descriptions transform paragraphs from vague and boring to engrossing and memorable. This three-step exercise helps us get closer to mastering this important skill so we can craft words that emotionally connect with our readers. Hemingway once wrote, All good books are alike, in that they are truer than if they had really happened, and after you are finished reading one, you will feel that all that happened to you, and afterwards, it all belongs to you, the good and the bad, the ecstasy, the remorse and sorrow, the people and the places and how the weather was. If you can get so that you can give that to people, then you are a writer. Although Hemingway said Samuelson's writing steadily improved and he had good stories to tell, Samuelson didn't end up pursuing a writing career. The memoir he wrote about the year he spent at sea wasn't published until after his death. But we owe him a debt of gratitude for getting Hemingway to share these insights about writing. Most of us will never have an opportunity like Samuelson's to receive personal feedback on our writing from our favorite author. If you're like me, many of your favorite authors might be long dead, in which case you'd have to find a way to time travel like Gil Pender in the movie Midnight in Paris. But we can study the great writers who went before us. They have a lot to teach us. If we wish to become better writers and inspire more people with our words, there is always more we can learn, always more time to spend practicing. As Hemingway once observed, we are all apprentices in a craft where no one ever becomes a master.