Poor Christopher Paolini has been the target of many a critic since the publication of the first book in The Inheritance Cycle series. We'll cut him some slack because he was a teenager when he published, but let's face it: the work deserved the critique. I don't remember the particulars, but I recall a lot of comparisons to gemstones. It's been awhile since I read the series, so rather than read it again for the purposes of this discussion, I found this handy list of Paolini similes and metaphors.  

How much description is the right amount?
If your narrative description is so distracting that it pulls your reader out of the story, it's too much.

Gosh, that makes it sound so easy! Unfortunately, swinging in the other direction can be just as detrimental. If you don't include enough description, your reader may get confused or be unable to visualize the scene enough to be immersed in the story.

Like a diabetic trying to balance her blood sugar, we must find a way to navigate the narrow, harrowing path along the the knife-edged divide between purple prose and ambiguity. Unfortunately, they don't make a continuous glucose monitor (those white thingies stuck to the backs of the arms of diabetics) for narrative description. (For those not familiar with diabetes: that means your narrative description can't be measured in real time.)

So what do we do?

It can be difficult to assess where the balance lies in your own writing. As a writer, you visualize the events of your story in your head. It's already in there, so it's not always intuitive to write it out in words. But you have to remember to let the reader inside your head, too. I find reviews helpful for judging how close to the balance point my descriptions lie. An outside pair of eyes, glittering softly like multi-faceted jewels in the morning sun, is worth its weight in sparkle.

Weigh in: How do you find balance between too much and too little description?

Bonus article: Lessons From the Terrible Writing of Eragon