Show vs Tell
Part 1: Show
The comments: "This feels unbelievable." Or
"This part is eye-gougingly boring and distant." Or "I can't
empathize."
What they mean: You might need to show, not tell something.
You may have run across the phrase "Show, don't
tell" or some variant. And you may have Googled it and found countless
sites on why you need to do this. The reason can be boiled down to:
Show helps your reader feel it. Tell helps your reader know
it.
Both have their places in your story. This is why I prefer the phrase
"Show versus Tell," which validates both aspects, to "Show,
don't
tell," which implies telling is bad.
In my experience tutoring and Beta-ing, the most confusing part of all this is how to tell whether an instance is showing or telling. To see the difference, I find it's easiest to turn a Tell into Show.
Quick Fix: Find phrases that make a blanket statement about
a person or place. Ask yourself (or your POV character): How do you know?
Then insert details into the answer. (Recall my Details post? Remember to make details specific and unique to your character/world.)
Let's slip into our serious pants.
Awfully
generic example:
Jack was angry.
Ask yourself (or POV
character): "How do you know?"
Because
he hit the wall angrily.
That's better. Omit (leave out) the highlighted part and
you have a sentence that's a little more show, a little less tell. You can do
better, though, because you can still ask: How
do you know he hit the wall angrily?
Because
he made his hand into a fist and punched the wall, leaving a dent in the
plaster.
Much better. Can you still ask "How do you know he made his hand into a fist…?" No, this is
already your narrator's or POV character's direct observation. Once you get the
answer that starts with: "Because that's what he/she saw/observed," you've
found your "showing" imagery.
Now, omit the highlighted part and
clean up that "no duh" phrase.
He made his hand into a fist and punched the wall,
leaving a dent in the plaster.
Almost there. Make it pop, make your writing stand out, by
using details that are specific and unique to your world, your characters, your story. Punching the wall may not
be appropriate for the President of the U.S. or for the king of a realm, for a
lawyer, for a child, for a priest, for a teen fairy-hunter. Recall my post
about Fey Hunter Jack? How would he show anger to his best friend, Priya?
Jack flung his transistor at the wall. It cracked the plaster
but landed unharmed. He yanked the soda can rifle out of her grasp and
slammed its butt against the transistor's blinking face, over and over, until
the screen cracked and splattered black diodes onto his new green loafers.
Let's do another.
Ben loved Linda.
Bam! That's about as telly as you can get. Ask: How do you know he loved her?
Because
he always did things for her, even though she never asked him to do that stuff.
Yes, but how do you
know? Give me proof!
Because
he always gets up early, takes her car to the gas station, and fills it up on
days she has to drive from San Francisco to Newport Beach.
Great. Omit the highlighted part and you have a decent showing instance. But this seems like a pretty big deal if you're
mentioning this example and not another. Put me in the scene by
using specific and unique details.
The voicemail icon was blinking on Linda's phone: a new
message from Ben. She listened to it as she waited for the windshield to clear.
"Hey," said Ben. "Sorry I wasn't there when
you left this morning. Got called in. I filled up your tank, though, ok? And
checked your oil. You're gonna need an oil change soon. Maybe when you get
back. Or if you have time in Newport, all right? And make sure you stop if
you're tired. Before the Grapevine. There's some places you can stop that don't
cost much. But past the Grapevine, you keep driving if you can. Those places
don't look so good, all right? If you can make it for another half hour or so –
if there's no traffic – you drive all the way to your grandma's ok?...Bye."
We added a lot more words and omitted the word
"love," but we've trickled in some key information to build their
relationship to the world they live in, and to each other.
What does that voicemail
say about Ben? Notice how he keeps saying "ok?" and "all
right?" And how he phrases things like "don't cost much" and
"don't look so good"? What does that imply about his personality, his
level of education? What does the word "your" before "grandma" imply about his relationship with Linda and her family?
How would a teenager react to such a voicemail? How would an
adult?
And what does your reaction to this voicemail say about you?
Showing makes scenes emotionally interactive, which keeps a
reader engaged and turning the page.
Let's do one more, narrative description, which is often a
wasted opportunity to reveal themes and conflict.
Vanessa's room was very neat and organized.
How do you know?
Because
the bed was made, the desk was free of clutter, paired shoes were arranged on
shelves, and all clothes were hung in the closet.
Can you still ask "How
do you know?"
No, this is already direct observation. We can omit that
highlighted part and use the sentence to show how neat the room is and it would
be just fine. Should we settle for "just fine" though? (Correct
answer is no. Also, it's a very passive sentence.)
Let's improve it. Focus on one or two elements that can
represent the entire room and add the specific and unique details we talked
about. Show me more about whose room this is.
I edged around Vanessa's bed, brushing my fingers across a
blue sheet stretched so taut and flat across the top, my touch left no
indentation. The clothes in her closet were grouped by type, subgrouped by
color, further subgrouped by texture so that lowly cottons were segregated from
sumptuous silks by insulating inches of merino wool. I tugged on sleeves,
examined tags. Brands I'd only read and didn't have the courage to say aloud, afraid
of mispronouncing them and revealing I had no place in her world: Marchesa, Burberry,
Versace, Lanvin.
Much better. Note what we've managed to trickle in:
What type of person would make their bed this way and group
clothes in their closet in such a manner? Who would wear these brands?
We've even managed to inject some tension, some little bits
of conflict. We can show how the POV character feels like an outsider in Vanessa's
world by showing how the POV character feels this way in the Vanessa's room, a
microcosm of the story's world.
"Showing" turns flat statements – "The room
was very neat" or "He loved her" – into multifaceted,
emotionally interactive scenes.
Instead of you, the writer, telling the reader what to feel
and think, you allow the reader to develop their own conclusions by showing a
scene through a character's perspective. It can be thought of as emotion on the
page (telling) versus emotion in the reader (showing).
Lastly, check your understanding. Which instances are show,
and which are tell?
The battle was difficult. – Can you ask "How do you
know?" and get a descriptive response? Yes. This is a Tell instance.
My mother was always strict with us.
The warlord walked away in shame.
My hands shook as I stared at the bomb.
"My mother was always strict with us," said Jack.
The journey through the mountains was long and difficult.
Learning how to navigate through star fields was long and
difficult.
Next week, we'll look at the importance of Telling.
Happy writing,
J
Coming up:
More Show vs. Tell
Jay Groce
Passive
Characterization
Dialogue Tags
Verbing
Robert Bevan
