writing about scents, smells and other intangibles
I have spent the week writing the copy for the relaunch of www.dotandlil.com , which will take place in early December. And although I like to think that I know how to string words together in some sort of appealing manner, this task has me completely stumped. It's not the product descriptions that I find difficult, although I do tend to be a little too modest about my own creations! No, it's the scents. And of course, almost everything I need to describe is scented, that being the nature of the business I am in!
How do I communicate to someone the fresh burst of lemongrass, the subtle dignity of lily of the valley, or the classic crisp note of rose? I seem to process scent on a very personal level, as many people do. But I can't exactly say "Dot & Lil's Lily of the Valley Soap, reminiscent of my mother getting ready on spring mornings, circa 1990." Somehow, that doesn't quite work. I need to find a way to disassociate my own memories from the scent, at least enough to leave room for my reader to insert his or her own memories.
What do certain scents mean for you?
How do I communicate to someone the fresh burst of lemongrass, the subtle dignity of lily of the valley, or the classic crisp note of rose? I seem to process scent on a very personal level, as many people do. But I can't exactly say "Dot & Lil's Lily of the Valley Soap, reminiscent of my mother getting ready on spring mornings, circa 1990." Somehow, that doesn't quite work. I need to find a way to disassociate my own memories from the scent, at least enough to leave room for my reader to insert his or her own memories.
What do certain scents mean for you?
