Humans are very sight-oriented. It’s our primary sense, the one we rely on most. So it makes sense that most descriptions in our writing focus on the visual—what a character sees, what a place looks like, how the light hits the floorboards.
But sight is just one part of how we experience the world. We hear things, we smell them, we feel texture and temperature. Sometimes a sound hits us in the chest. Sometimes a smell is so strong we can taste it.
Your readers live in their bodies, just like your characters do. If you want your story to feel real, you need to give us more than just what we can see. The creak of floorboards. The prickle of sweat. The tang of salt in the air. The feel of fabric under fingertips. The stinging burn of antiseptic. The echo of someone else’s breath in the dark.
You don’t need to include every sense in every scene—please don’t—but you should be aware of which ones you’re using, and which ones you’re forgetting.
The trick is to use the right sense at the right time.
A sterile white room becomes more oppressive when it smells faintly of bleach and sorrow. A kiss becomes more than just lips on lips when you mention the scrape of stubble or the sweetness of wine. A battlefield becomes more visceral when you let us feel the heat, smell the blood, taste the ash and hear the screams of the dying.
So next time you’re writing a scene, pause and check: what can your character hear, smell, or feel that we haven’t seen yet?
Use all the senses. Your story will be stronger for it.