Writing with Detail
Use sense detail to help us see, hear, taste, and touch your subject.  Stay out of abstractions.  An abstract word is one that we cannot see or hear or touch, like "love," or "loyal," or "hate." Show us these words by using detail.  Mark Twain said "Don't tell me about the girl's laughter--bring her on stage and show me the girl laughing." Notice in this first draft of a student's paper how little detail he/she has used.  Then read the revision of two paragraphs and see the difference.

A Terrifying Experience
(Notice the title.  It's too broad and abstract)

One fine day a friend and I went fishing. After we had fished for several hours I felt tired. Since my friend was not willing to quit I decided to take a nap until he was ready to go home: so I stretched out on the ground and soon fell asleep.

I was awakened by my friend's voice close at hand. He warned me not to move, that a rattlesnake was crawling towards me, and that if I lay still it would probably pass by and not hurt me.

At first I thought he was joking, but I soon realized the wisdom of his advice; so I closed my eyes and lay still. Soon I felt the snake's clammy body on my arm. I was terribly scared, buy I had enough sense to remain motionless. I could feel the snake crawl slowly across my body and once when I opened my eyes I could see him looking at me. Then, after what seemed ages, he moved on.

I must have fainted, because the next thing I remember my friend was shaking me. He said I looked like a ghost, and the way I felt he was probably right.

 
Now the student takes two of his sentences and develops them into paragraphs by adding detail:  The first?  "One fine day my friend and I went fishing."

DON'T MOVE  (Much better title)

The fishing had been excellent that afternoon-- at least for me. Mack had gone upstream while I had gone down. Inside my creel, wrapped in moist grass, were ten fat rainbow trout. I had even released two smaller trout in order to catch the two larger ones that still flopped against the top of the wicker creel. I decided that if I couldn't fish I could at least nap in the warm afternoon sun while I waited for Mack to return. I chose an overhanging ledge on the canyon wall where the sun would shine for some time yet.
Now, the student revises his/ her paragraph about the snake.  Notice the difference that the added detail makes in helping the audience see images.
My muscles tensed; the blood rushed to my face; I wanted to jump and run, anything to get out of there. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps my companion was joking, but almost the minute it entered, I knew that no one, speaking the way he did, could be joking. Lord! What could I do? If I could only see the snake, perhaps I could kill it, but I dared not move. Thus I waited, unable to analyze my feelings, almost sure of certain death if I moved. I closed my eyes and waited. Suddenly I felt something on the biceps of my right arm--a queer light touch, clinging for an instant--and then the smooth glide of an oily body. I could feel the muscles of the snake's body slowly contract, then relax as it slid smoothly, oh, how smoothly across my naked arm. Again and again that body contracted, and again and again it relaxed. At last I saw a flat V-shaped head, with two glistening, black protruding buttons. A thin, pointed sickening yellow tongue slipped out, then in, accompanied by a sound like that of escaping steam. Slowly, slowly it advanced, the rounded spots on its back and sides drawing together and then stretching to their length as it moved slowly forward. When it was about in the middle of my chest, it paused, slowly turned its head toward me, and fixed its cold, boring eyes in my direction. Now I could not have moved had I wished; I was fascinated. So he remained, darting his tongue out and in. Finally he slowly, very slowly, turned his head, and again moved forward. Once more I had to see and feel the slow contraction, relaxation, contraction, relaxation. The body began to narrow, the spots grew closer together and more minute. At last the slender, whipping tail appeared on my chest, and then slowly slid along until. . . .

Again, use detail to involve your audience.  Show, don't tell.