The old adage has been stated time and time again as one of the great sins of writing. But what does it really mean? And is it possible to ditch the telling once and for all?
Here's the truth: you will probably never avoid telling too much. And neither will I.
First drafts (and also later ones) are littered with telling because, as the one who wrote it, we know what's going on. We can feel and understand our characters, settings, plots, etc. but the reader can't. And that's why showing matters.
As a basic introduction, showing is placing the reader in the moment with action, dialogue, etc. Whereas telling is using statements, exposition, etc. to simply hand facts to the reader.
But showing vs. telling is more than just experiencing vs. info-dumping; it's convincing.
For example, if I were to say to you: "My brother is so annoying." You might understand what I'm saying from the universal knowledge that siblings can be annoying, but you're not emotionally invested in what I'm saying. You have no reason to believe me.
However, if I were to say: "I can't believe my brother! He barged into my room at 5am this morning just to blow an air horn in my face." You would be able to understand how uncomfortable that would be. How annoying my brother was in that moment, giving me a rude awakening purely for his own enjoyment. And suddenly I've convinced you that my brother is annoying without having to state it outright.
Find the Telling
But how do we spot telling in our writing?
The truth is, many times we won't, because--as I mentioned earlier--we know our characters. CPs don't. Beta Readers don't. And this is just one of the reasons why having fellow writers look at your work is so important.
But if you're not ready for that (and that's totally okay), then take time away from your own work. Another thing that writers recommend: leave space between revisions. This is an excellent reason why.
Leaving space after a revision gives time to defamiliarize yourself with your work. That way, when you go back, you can search for areas where you are not convinced of your own writing. Just like you might notice it in someone else's.
Where do your characters fall flat? Where does your plot shudder? Does your setting immerse you? Does it feel like everything is happening just a bit too fast? Are you not invested in how your characters fare?
Fix the Telling
Susan Dennard (author of the WITCHLANDS series) gives an excellent tool for helping to transition from telling to showing. Ask yourself: How?
Using the previous example of the annoying brother: How is my brother annoying? What does he do?
By answering how? and giving those examples (he gave me a rude awakening), now I can convince whomever I'm speaking to. Now they are emotionally invested in my plight.
But if that doesn't seem to help or fit, we can also try some of the following:
Use descriptive verbs and adjectives/nouns together for a clear picture
Verb example: glared, scowled, frowned instead of stared
Adjective/noun example: Ellen painted on the canvas vs. Ellen's sopping brush soared across the pristine canvas in whorls of vivid blue.
Incorporate the senses (How does it feel? What does it smell like? Can anything be tasted?)
Sometimes, in feedback, people won't specifically state "Can you show me this?" or "Show don't tell." There are tons of ways that it may come across, but here are a few examples:
The story felt rushed
Didn't get to know the characters
Didn't feel grounded in the setting (I am very susceptible to this one.)
These notes can often be smoothed out by showing more and telling less because it helps to immerse the reader instead of dragging them along.
The Importance of Showing
However, showing vs. telling doesn't only apply to the specific words that we use, but also to plot and setting and character arcs, etc.
If we haven't shown the world and why the plot matters, when it gets to the climax, we won't be invested in the outcome. Or, we won't understand why it matters. Writers talk frequently about "stakes," or the consequences should the characters decide to do nothing, and this is a good example of why it matters.
Stakes invest the reader in the story; it makes them want to keep going. But if they don't know the stakes, if they don't understand the basics of how your world works or why this particular plot matters to your characters, they aren't going to care how it ends. Showing pieces of the world, lining up the setting and how these choices affect the world around them, will give the reader an emotional pull to keep reading.
And so it's important to be showing those things from the moment your reader is dropped into the story. So when the drama hits, we know exactly why it matters.
When to Tell
There will also be times, though, when we will want to tell over show. Sometimes, showing will bog down the story. A good example of this is internal narrative. Showing relies on actions being taken, and when we're inside someone's head, in their thoughts, they are not acting.
Other times we, generally, want to tell over show are during transitions (e.g., time passing between scenes/chapters) and summary/pacing (e.g., an action in the middle of battle).
Personally, the way that I communicate is fairly to-the-point. And from that perspective, I like to use a combination of telling and showing. I like receiving the facts first, and then showing why it matters.
Example: He was surprisingly large. I pressed onto my tiptoes, flailing to catch my balance, and my head just brushed his shoulder as I tried to peer past him to the stage. His back was not the view that I'd paid for. I craned to the left, trying a different angle, but the back of his muscly arm eclipsed the actors.
I start by stating "He was large" and then go on to show how the protagonist can't see around him. That the patron in front is at least a head taller and quite muscular--and blocking the view. Therefore, the protagonist is rather irritated by the outcome.
The important part is being able to find a balance. Knowing when to speed up and when to slow down. And CPs and Beta Readers, if you want them, are one of the best ways to discern this balance.
Now go forth. Scour the drafts for unconvincing telling and bring forth the life of showing.
Happy writing,
Erin