How
many crayons does your box hold. Sixteen? Thirty-two? How about
two-hundred forty?
That's
the number of terms author Ingrid
Sundberg placed
in the color thesaurus she compiled to aid her writing.
She
started with a dozen basics (white, tan, yellow, orange, red, pink,
purple, blue, green, brown, gray, and black). For each, she named
eleven more terms.
Starting
with yellow, she listed canary, gold, daffodil, flaxen, butter,
lemon, mustard, corn, medallion, dandelion, fire, bumblebee, banana,
butterscotch, dijon, honey, blonde, pineapple, and tuscan sun.
Purple
was joined by mauve, violet, boysenberry, lavender, plum, magenta,
lilac, grape, periwinkle, sangria, eggplant, jam, iris, heather,
amethyst, raisin, orchid, mulberry, and wine.
Her
list of 12 colors became a chart with 240 shades (including 19 more
of grey).
Like
most writing tools, use a color thesaurus with caution. If you're not
sure what cerulean looks like, your readers may not either.
Compile your own list—using the shades that flow from your
vocabulary.
A
few years back, I edited a novel for a writer who includes in each
story an auto from the family's museum of classic cars. This story
would feature their 1930 Packard roadster – a car I'd seen many
times.
 |
| Red and silver -- or maroon and pewter? |
Working
from a male author's typical box of just sixteen colors, he described
the car as red and silver. Not the terms I'd choose.
I
revisited the museum, walked around the Packard with the writer's
sister, and asked her opinion. Like most women, her box holds at
least 64 shades, if not 132. After a few minutes, we settled on
maroon and pewter. Nothing exotic (like aubergine)
but evocative and accurate.
Looking
to make your writing more colorful? Visit your paint store for sample
cards, then compile your personal color thesaurus. It may help your
stories get read.
