Writing About Body Language Novels & Stories

Her actual head moving in her actual body, a genuine gesture, the specific realness of someone receiving something and showing that they are receiving it without any management of the showing. "We are creating something new," she said, "just by existing." Her body swayed toward his as she said it, that specific movement she made when she was being fully honest and her body was expressing what she was thinking rather than being arranged for presentation. He felt the warmth of her proximity with his newly calibrated form and felt his body respond with a specificity that made walking require some additional attention. "Every step we take," she continued, and her voice had the specific quality o

The calm demeanor he put on was good, and she had to give him credit for his acting skills, but she could see right past his nonchalant façade. It was a favorite pastime of hers, watching people. She studied their body language, read their tones or words, and eavesdropped on their personal conversations. She would frequently sit in a public place and focus on the strangers around her, trying to come up with her next story, their story. She didn't find it hard to see the slight twitch of one's lower lip when they were lying or the direct stare they made as they spoke with minimal blinking. One could say that she was trained in reading people as well. Self-trained, at least.

Because the body communicated its damage in multiple registers simultaneously and only some of them were visible. I spent two weeks learning to listen before Mara permitted me to attempt any application. The listening was its own revelation. Bodies, I discovered, were extraordinarily communicative. Not in language — in something more immediate than language, a continuous stream of information about their states and their histories and their current negotiations between damage and repair. Learning to receive that stream without immediately trying to respond to it required a discipline that made the earlier training feel simple in comparison. But I learned it. The first person I treated delibe

Outside the city was doing its late night quiet. “I want to make something,” Margot signed, turning to look at Finn. “About this. About visual communication and what it does. What tonight was.” “What will you call it?” Finn signed. She thought for a moment. “Something about the body of language,” she signed. “What it feels like. When the language is the body.” Finn looked at her. “That was my phrase,” they signed. “You gave it to me,” she signed. “On purpose.” Finn felt the truth of that. They had. In the coffee place, describing the east wall piece, they had given her language for something she’d been working toward. It felt right that she’d use it.

Jaime, ever composed, simply nodded, his attention shifting back to Paula. “So, what’s next?” he asked, his voice calm, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. Paula tapped her chin thoughtfully. “Next, we work on touch.” My stomach twisted. “Touch?” “Yes,” she said with a matter-of-fact tone. “Body language is just as important as words. If you want people to believe you’re a couple, you have to look comfortable touching each other—naturally, casually, like it’s second nature.”

The other hand continued trailing over my bare thigh. It was dark but I could feel how close his face was. His breath fanned my cheek and i turned my head to admire the outline of his face in the pitch black room. With his roaming hand, my legs spread in accomodation of what was coming. I didn't need him to tell me, because I could read it in his body language and hear it in his tone. Under a heavy blanket and pressed against his warm skin, my body trembled like there was ice in my veins. Yet there was a carnal heat building between my legs the closer his fingers got.

She came to stand right behind me, her hands light on my shoulders. “You don't have to be anyone else,” she said. “You just let him see the parts you hide. Smile. Hold his eyes. Don't apologize with your body language. That is it.” “That sounds hard,” I said softly. “I will teach you,” she replied. I kept looking in the mirror. Her face hovered just behind mine, so close it almost looked like we were one shape. I told myself the flutter in my chest was only nerves. And Bobby. Always Bobby.

She was lying… Not the part about him being her colleague, but the part about not liking him. It was so glaring. Her body language sold her out. Dawn found it difficult to make eye contact whenever she was lying. Her shaky voice always sells her out, not to mention the rigorous tapping of her nails on a flat surface.

You can look forward to your surgery and let me take care of security. Shaun's heart ached with love for the man sitting across from her. She loved that he was using facial cues along with hand signals. When they first met, his face was carved of stone, even while he was signing. An unusual thing for someone who was nonverbal. Body language, hand signs and facial expressions went hand-in-hand with transmitting intent as well as language. But Jozef had lived a brutal life and hadn't incorporated facial expressions into his language. During their time together, he'd naturally fallen into it, and used facial cues often when they were together. Thank you, this means a lot to me, she signed back.