I thought Cricket McRae's January 12th post on Inkspot about food being a useful tool to enhance storytelling (
Food for Thought) was very interesting. So, I decided to expand on that post with a discussion about how stimulating the reader's sense of smell can also enhance storytelling.
Smells can trigger intense memories, especially childhood memories.Smell and memory are closely linked because the olfactory bulb, which processes smell sensations, is part of the brain's limbic system. The limbic system also includes the amygdala, which processes emotion, and the hippocampus, which is responsible for associative learning. So memories and smells get associated or linked in our brains within the limbic system. Many people are transported back to their mother's kitchen when inhaling the scent of her signature dish. Or to their father's garage when smelling engine oil. And who doesn't think of Christmas when smelling the scent of pine?
Smells can affect behavior. This concept is the basis for aromatherapy and scent marketing. In aromatherapy, lavender and chamomile are used to induce calming, lemon to lift depression, and peppermint to raise alertness, for example. Scent marketing is the use of aromas to enhance a customer experience or to brand a product. For example, a coconut spice scent is pumped through the HVAC system of the Mandalay Bay casino in Las Vegas to compliment the lush foliage and give gamblers more of a "jungle experience." And who hasn't heard of the idea of baking cookies or an apple pie before opening a house for a real estate showing?
Smells can trigger emotions.Many of our likes and dislikes of particular smells are based on strong emotions we felt while first smelling them. When we're exposed to that smell again, the emotion comes along with it. Thus, when they smell the coppery scent of fresh blood, many people experience fear, fear that they felt when they were injured as a child. Based on past experiences, the same smell can trigger different emotions in different people. The salty scent of the ocean can bring happiness to someone who spent hours playing on the beach as a child or can bring fear to someone who almost drowned in the ocean in their past. Many smells, however, trigger the same emotional reaction in the majority of the human population. Most people, for example, find vanilla to be a sweet and satisfying scent, so it is a component of many perfumes.
So how does the author use smells? We can't infuse the pages of our books with scents, but we CAN describe those scents. Those descriptions evoke memories of the scents in readers' minds. Those scent memories bring along with them other memories and emotions and behaviors in the readers that are associated with the scents. And that pulls readers deeper into the scene, so they are THERE experiencing the story with the characters.
Here are some examples of how I used smells in my upcoming release,
Deadly Currents, which features whitewater river ranger Mandy Tanner. What do you feel and remember when you read them?
In a description of Mandy's boyfriend (who probably smells like a lot of men who work outside):
"When he gathered her in his arms, Mandy inhaled his familiar scent of soap, leather, and the grassy outdoors. "
In a meal description:
"When he lifted the lid of the extra large pizza box in the kitchen, releasing hot steam filled with the tantalizing aroma of cheese, ham, and pineapple—her favorite toppings—she felt faint."
When Mandy walks into a beauty salon:
"A white jarred candle glowing on the reception desk scented the room with vanilla, though it didn’t completely mask the underlying chemical odors of hair coloring and nail polish."
So, evoking the scent memories of readers can be a very powerful tool for the writer. Can you think of a particularly powerful use of smell in a piece of fiction that you've recently read or written? Share it with us!
The Midnight Ink authors who use humor in their books will probably back me up on this: If it looks like it just fell off the pen, it probably took the author hours or weeks to get there. It's supposed to look easy, and shining a light on the process by having something like me talk about the process...well...that's just too scary a thought for me. In fact, I could just see people leaving at the end of this panel, shaking their heads, and saying to each other, "That Malliet person thinks she's funny? Sheesh! I want my money back." My book sales would plummet. Returns from the bookstore would skyrocket. Total disaster. 
My sixteen-year-old son and I are reading Stieg Larsson together. We didn't actually plan this as a mother-son activity; I bought the first book on a whim and left it lying around. He picked it up one day and asked if he could read it.
My fondest childhood memories are of times spent with my parents and grandparents at what we called "the farm." Located in northern Vermont on 100 acres of wooded land, the "farm" was my grandfather's hunting retreat -- a ramshackle house with a front porch, outhouse, gas lamps, and a few bedrooms, one of which had a triple-decker bunkbed. In the kitchen was an enormous black cookstove in which my greataunt could bake her mouthwatering strawberry-rhubarb pies. Little wonder that my brother and cousins and I adored the place.
Marble and carved wood and electric chandeliers and so many books I could get happily lost in there for a decade.
Last Friday, my boss showed me his copy of Force of Habit—just delivered. I signed it for him and went back to work. I few hours later, in a classic delayed reaction, realization hit me: I just autographed my first book. That someone ordered, paid for, and received in an everyday business transaction.
