On writing the unfamiliar.

There's a scene in a Regency romance I am sampling, which describes in detail the cutting of briar roots and its purpose, for the benefit of readers who will not have seen this done before. It contrasts with Heyer, who would write as though assuming that of course you would know all about it. The purpose would be explained in an offhand mention, and she'd describe only the particular difficulties of *this* particular round of root-gathering. It helps make the reader part of the world that is being described, and thus keeps them close and involved.

The careful, text-book description of the unfamiliar is, by contrast, flat and distancing. It's only in reading such a description in a new context that has made me realise exactly why such passages throw me out of fantasy books and make them seem dull and dry, whereas minute descriptions of actions unfamiliar to the character are engaging.

I'm making a note of this here for my own writing, because it's very useful to know.