Specific, tangible, observable details that replace vague or abstract language and make your writing feel real and grounded.
A concrete detail is any piece of information that is specific, observable, and grounded in the physical world. It's the opposite of abstract or vague language. 'She had a nice car' is abstract. 'She drove a dented 2004 Honda Civic with a cracked bumper sticker that said NAMASTE on it' is concrete. Concrete details give the reader something to see, touch, and hold onto. They do the work of characterization, worldbuilding, and emotional resonance simultaneously, because the specific details you choose reveal what matters to the narrator and the characters.
Concrete detail is where good writing lives. Vague language ('it was a beautiful day,' 'she felt sad,' 'the room was messy') slides past the reader's mind without creating any lasting impression. Concrete details stick because they give the reader's imagination something specific to work with. A single well-chosen concrete detail can do more work than a paragraph of general description. Learning to think in specifics rather than generalities is one of the most transformative skills you can develop as a writer.
Carver builds entire stories from plain, concrete details - the specific brand of whiskey, the way a man holds a pencil - letting the mundane specifics carry all the emotional weight.
Smith's London is built from concrete details that are simultaneously funny, specific, and culturally revealing - the exact contents of a family's dinner table tell you their whole history.
Diaz grounds his narrator's voice in hyper-specific pop culture and physical details - brand names, comic book references, the exact shade of a character's skin - making the world feel lived in.
Every concrete detail should do at least one of three jobs: build character, set mood, or advance the story. Details that do none of these are clutter.
'Blue eyes' and 'wooden table' are technically concrete but so generic they don't create a picture. Push for the unexpected or specific - what shade of blue? What kind of wood? What's wrong with it?
Don't stop the scene to describe. Let characters interact with details - pick up the chipped mug, trip on the warped floorboard, notice the stain on someone's collar.
Rewrite each of these vague sentences with concrete, specific details: 'The house was old.' 'He ate breakfast.' 'The weather was bad.' 'She walked into a nice restaurant.' 'The city was loud.' For each one, make the concrete version reveal something about a character - let the specific details you choose do the work of characterization.