Show, Don’t Tell

What is Show, Don’t Tell?

If you’re reading blogs about writing or taking a course, or have picked up a ‘how to write’ book, you’ve probably heard of ‘Show, Don’t Tell’, or know the concept, if not the name.

‘Show, Don’t Tell’ is a writing tool to create more descriptive content. It works just as it sounds: Show your reader, don’t Tell them.

We want to supply our readers with information to form their own conclusions and utilise all those deduction skills. You could tell me your character is old, sure, or you could paint a picture of the deep laugh lines around their mouth, the wisdom in their eyes, or I could listen when they say, “Back in my day, dear…”

“Show the readers everything, tell them nothing.” 

Ernest Hemingway

How To

As writers, we know the importance of descriptions and we write them all the time. I keep Show, Don’t Tell in the back of my mind, and it reminds me to add depth where I only skimmed the surface.

We know a character is somewhat of an introvert, not because the writer told us or even used the word, but because the character thought of something to say and then decided to keep it to themselves, or looked down as their teacher searched for a volunteer.  

There are many ways we can incorporate Show, Don’t Tell, and here are some possibilities to consider:

Focus on the Senses

Senses are a great way to start. They help connect the reader to the character and focus on those small details that add depth to descriptions. We sometimes try to tell the reader what it is our characters are experiencing – they hear the birds singing – instead of exploring what it would be like to be in the moment – tweeting and trilling from the trees.

We want to invoke the feeling of being in the character’s shoes. If I read he stepped into the sea, I picture the character stepping into the sea, but if I read the cold water rushed up around his ankles as his feet sunk into the wet sand, I feel the water and I feel the sand, and I remember stepping into the ocean and feeling that same sucking, sinking sensation.

Our senses help us identify where we are, what we’re doing, who we’re with, without ever actually stating it.

Here are some quick examples of using senses to Show.

 

See – a nurse

He was wearing seafoam scrubs and had that harrowed look in his eyes of a man having been on his feet all night.

Hear – a storm

The sky roared as if a giant nested in the clouds, clapping and laughing without consideration for those below.

Smell – grandad’s study

The scent of dusty old books and stale tobacco hung heavy in the air.

Feel – a cage  

The bars were cold and hard to the touch, as unforgiving as the people who put her behind them.

Taste – wine

He took a sip, coating his tongue in stale sweetness.

And the sixth sense, if you like:

Feel (emotion) – nervous

The butterflies fluttered in her stomach, and told her heart to mimic the rapid beating of their wings.

Filter out Filter Words

            Talking about sense, brings me to ‘Filter Words’, which should be a post in itself, but while we should explore senses, we don’t want to filter the experience and start every sentence with ‘she/he felt/saw/tasted/heard/smelled…’

            They’re called filter words because we essentially filter the experience through the character. For example, ‘She saw the two men discreetly exchange cash.’ In this example, saw is the filter word, and ‘she’ is the one having the experience. Remove the filter, and the sentence becomes something like, ‘The two men exchanged money, palm to palm.’

            And much like Show, Don’t Tell itself, ‘Filter Words’ are not taboo. There are times when they are necessary, and work perfectly fine, but they can easily become a crutch, and we don’t realise that we’re sometimes cheating our readers out of an experience.

            For the sake of brevity, I have kept the list short, but here are some examples of filter words (in past tense):

·         Saw

·         Heard

·         Felt

·         Thought

·         Wondered

·         Realised

·         Seemed

Be conscious of the types of adjectives you’re using

When I first read the quote by C.S. Lewis, it was the first time I was made conscious of the different types of adjectives we use, and why and how they affect the reading experience.

“In writing. Don't use adjectives which merely tell us how you want us to feel about the thing you are describing. I mean, instead of telling us a thing was "terrible," describe it so that we'll be terrified. Don't say it was "delightful"; make us say "delightful" when we've read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers, "Please will you do my job for me."

C.S. Lewis

           

Once I was aware of it, I saw it everywhere. I noticed when authors had used telling adjectives, and times they’d used showing adjectives. I then became conscious of it in my own writing. There were many instances I caught myself going straight for the ‘telling’ adjective, which sometimes is what the writing needs, but being conscious of it drove me to improve my writing, and question my word choices.

A quick example might be that of a monster, which we might eagerly want to describe as scary, and with the concept of telling vs showing in my mind, I ask myself: what is scary? And then my monster becomes skeletal, with sharp edges, with parts missing, extra bits growing, a voice that’s guttural and otherworldly, and eyes black and glassy like globes of liquid ink.     

Use dialogue

            Our characters can be our greatest tools, as we explore their senses, and what they say and do. Dialogue can be a helpful tool to explore relationships, emotions, setting, and show the reader everything we not only don’t want to say but don’t need to say. Sometimes hints are all the reader needs.

            A character’s emotional state

            “Did you get any sleep last night? You look wrecked.”

            Length and dynamics of relationships

“Did I ever tell you about the time I got arrested?”

“Yes, you did, darling, it’s my favourite story of yours.”

Moving the plot or creating tension

“Did you hear that?”

“Get back in the car.”

“But I-,”

“Get back in the car, now!”

Use body language

            Using body language is one of my favourite ways to Show, Don’t Tell, mainly because it comes the most naturally. In everyday life, we are so very familiar with body language (and the things our body does without our say-so) that we have a huge bank of actions that immediately convey meaning. We rarely read ‘he was angry’ because there are so may different ways to show it.

“Your lyrics lack subtlety! You can't just have your characters announce how they feel! That makes me feel angry!” 

Robot Devil, Futurama. (Matt Groening)

            An angry character throws a book across the room, or clenches their fists or feels their blood boil. Fear makes us run or fight, our hearts pound, and our breaths come sharp and shallow. Nerves make us pace, shake and feel sick. We might purse our lips in response to a question, or move away when a certain person comes to speak to us, or stretch our hands above our heads and yawn.

“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” 

Anton Chekhov

Exercises

Need some practise? Try these quick prompts to get the creative juices flowing.

Exercise #1

Describe a rainy day from the point of view of someone who likes the rain and cosy days inside, but don’t use the word rain.

Exercise #2

Write a conversation between two people who have been friends all their lives, without describing their relationship to the reader. Use dialogue, tags, and action only.

Exercise #3

Write a scene taking place in a horror movie, without using an emotion word.

"You don't write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid's burnt socks lying in the road."

Richard Price

Telling

We might be tempted to tell our readers that our character can hear a siren in the distance and, to be fair, that’s perfectly okay. Not everything has to be shown and, in fact, if we tried to show everything, our stories would be muddled. Sometimes the most efficient way to tell the story is to, well, tell.  If we try too hard to show, and try too hard to not tell, the reader might miss an important aspect of the story we’re trying to depict, and may very well be lost in our wonderful descriptions. Show, Don’t Tell is just a tool to help build on what we’re trying to say. Her stomach dropped at the sound of distant trilling, as the siren faded in, loud and piercing, and quickly faded out.

In the above example, I still told my reader that my character heard a siren, but I created depth with feelings and sounds. There are always times when we absolutely need to tell. There are times when dialogue tags such as shouted, murmured and snorted are wonderful ways to enhance your writing, and other times, said is not only acceptable, but necessary.

It’s perfectly okay to tell. It’s called story telling after all, right?

But do I have to?

We teach ourselves to write. We play with words in our head, or write them down in a journal. We’re always writing first, and teaching ourselves how. It’s only when we start to get serious that we look out into the world for help, guidance, and ways to help our craft grow.

When I was first teaching myself to write, I didn’t want to be taught. I didn’t want to learn the rules or hear the lessons. I didn’t care if they were a published author, or had written a bestselling book, I didn’t want to know, and I didn’t really care what they thought I should or shouldn’t do as a writer. I wanted to write my own way and didn’t want to hear I was doing it wrong, because that only made me feel bad about my writing. I thought to myself ‘writing is art, there is no wrong or right way’. Which I still, to this day, believe is absolutely true.

However, if I kept wandering in the dark, only teaching myself and never trying to learn from others better than me, I wouldn’t be the writer I am today. I needed to learn how.

Not every piece of advice you read is gospel – a lesson I probably needed to hear during those early stages, but every piece of writing advice is worth reading, even if it’s to evaluate and form your own opinions about. I’d rather be made aware of a ‘bad writing habit’ and decide to consciously keep doing it, than be left in the dark.

Learning about writing strategies such as Show, Don’t Tell helps us make our writing better, or at least keeps us conscious of common mistakes we are making that readers don’t like finding in the books they pick up.

But there is an exhausting element to all this. There are all these rules I have to learn; can’t I just write?

“Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”

Pablo Picasso