Show Don’t Tell Workshop

December 26, 2008

 

Mary Rosenblum:  Hi, all. I hope you had a very nice Christmas holiday!  Well, I'm impressed with this day after Christmas turnout! I thought we could do this sort of workshop style, since I figured we wouldn't have a huge crowd, and 'show don't tell' is something that is best taught by 'showing' . Show, don't tell IS the foundation of strong writing, whether you are writing fiction, or nonfiction narrative.  The reason it is important is that it creates a real 'here and now' for readers so that your words translate clearly into a visual scene. We are a visual species and if we can't see something it doesn't seem very real to us.

That seems clear and easy, right?

Simple concept, right?

 It is.  The hard part is making it actually happen.
  Ha!!! It took me forever to figure out show, don't tell!
Mary Rosenblum:  The reason it is hard is that you, the writer, DO see the scene very clearly. So obviously you are 'showing' it to the readers.  But the reality is that you see it clearly because either you made it up (fiction) or you were there (nonfiction). So of course you see the scene clearly!  The trick is to allow readers to also see it that clearly. Show, don't tell is all about learning what 'telling' actually is, so that you can avoid doing it, and learning what 'showing' actually is, so that you can do it.

Telling is all about author interpretation.

Showing is all about sensory input.

Of course your readers learn more if you tell us all about what is going on. But then you sacrifice that here and now reality.  Now you can balance both. It's not a case of 'NEVER TELL US ANYTHING". Narrative form is all about the author telling the story. But that doesn't work for EVERY story and if you're writing a fast paced adventure, a gripping mystery, a compelling romance, you certainly want those scenes to seem real to the readers. That's why they're paying money to read your story. So they can live that story along with your characters.  So let's identify the telling.  

Caryn walked into the living room and looked around. She thought it was strange that Penny wasn’t waiting for her. Penny was always on time. In fact, she was the one who usually had to scold Caryn for being late. Caryn was habitually late, a point her mother never failed to point out every time Caryn wasn’t ready when her mother arrived to pick her up. They would get in trouble if they were late to their third period math class.  Mr. Granger was a very strict teacher and he had promised them that the next time they were late, he’d give them detention. Caryn couldn’t afford detention tonight. She had a date with Brad, who worked at the stable. Well it wasn’t really a date, but they were going to go meet his uncle, Peter Sims. Peter Sims was a really famous Dressage trainer.  Caryn couldn’t wait. Finally, giving up on Penny, she picked up her books and headed off to class. Friendship only went so far.

So we have a scene and we learn a lot about the situation and Caryn.  Penny is late, Caryn is usually late, Penny and her mom remind her of that all the time. Mr. Granger is going to give them detention if they're late. She has a date with Brad, who works at the stable and they're going to meet his uncle the famous horse trainer. We figure some things out without being told -- she loves horses, for example.

 But are your readers going to feel that they are there in that room?  If you WERE there, what would you be aware of?  If you were Caryn, what would you actually be thinking right now?  After all, you're worried about being late and getting detention. You are not worried about informing invisible readers about the past that you know very well.  That is where novice writers get into trouble.  They want their characters to be responsible for filling in backstory, but they don't give the character a reason to think about that backstory.

I have a LOT of backstory. I am not thinking about it, right now.

So let's trim this down to Caryn -- what is important to HER in this scene:

 Caryn walked into the living room. No Penny. She scowled at the scuffed furniture and empty sofa. Penny, miss Goody Two Shoes, was never late. This once, she, Caryn was on time and… With a sigh, she grabbed her books from the side table in the hall, winced as the old clock clanked out the hour. Mr. Grumbly Granger said yesterday that he’d give them detention if they were late one more time this month. She glanced at the clock again. Not tonight!  Not when she and Brad were going to visit his uncle, the Peter Sims, the dressage king. No way she was missing that. She flung the door open and marched down the steps. Friendship only went so far.

This is much shorter. I have taken out a lot of authorial interpretation and expansion here. We have more action, visual, thought, and less information.  Caren walks into the living room. What does she think, see? She sees an empty living room.  Does she think, 'I see an empty living room?"  Nah. She realizes 'no Penny'. Now, I, the author, want the readers to see what's there just a bit, so I have her scowl at some furniture. I'm being sneaky and slipping details in through my character's POV, but making it plausible.

Instead of me telling readers how Caryn is often late and Mom gets on her case for it, how Penny is never late, I let Caryn's thoughts inform us.  Penny, miss Goody Two Shoes, was never late. I've paraphrased her actual thoughts, but this is the summary of what is passing through her head.  THIS time, she is on time. Her thoughts fade and she grabs her books. The clock strikes and that prompts her to think of math class and detention. She knows that Brad works at the stable. Why would she think of that now (unless the author wanted her to inform the readers). But she and Brad have a date. She knows Sims is a horse trainer, why should she identify him as one here? He's just Peter Sims, the Dressage king. We readers will figure it out. No need to tell readers that she is finally giving up on Penny. As soon as she marches out the door, we know that.

So we have less information over all, but we readers can infer the key information from this scene and the stronger balance of visuals, action, and thought instead of narrative, will allow readers to 'see' this scene more clearly in their mind's eye. Show don't tell is a matter of taking out the interpretive words that come from the author, not the POV character's perceptions.  If you're writing a personal narrative, 'show don't tell' is when you stop interpreting for the readers and simply describe action as it happens.

Here's an example:

 I never really liked visiting my cousins on Sundays. Mama insisted. Family was family, blood thicker than water and all that. But my cousins, Hank and Paul, were terrors. I hated them both. This Sunday was no different. "Hey, it's the monkey-butt." My cousin Paul came bounding from behind the barn as I climbed out of the station wagon. "Hey, monkey-butt, catch."  

I didn't catch and the egg splatted against the car's fender.

"Pamela, what did you do that for?" Dad glared at me over his glasses.

"I didn't do anything," I whined. "Paul threw it."

"You kids take your games out to the barn."

So here, after our narrative segment about how our narrator, Pamela, hated the cousins, we get to see Paul in action.  Here we have dialogue, visuals, the splat of the egg. You could even add more visuals, yellow yolk running down the turquoise paint, Dad's scowl. If you simply told us about the scene, you would not take readers to that 'here and now'.

I hated them both. This Sunday was no different. As soon as we arrived, my cousin Paul called me monkey-butt and threw an egg at me. It missed and hit the car, but as usual, Dad blamed me instead of Paul.: See the difference?
Big difference!

 Remember that what makes prose compelling, what brings it to 'life' is when the readers do a lot of the work...they see the scene, they see and hear clues, they figure things out for themselves. That makes it your readers' story as well as yours.  It's easy for your mind to wander as the narrator tells you about Paul throwing the egg. But if readers see Paul, hear him call Pamela 'monkey-butt' and see that egg splat, they're too busy seeing and putting together the scene for minds to wander.

So your turn. Try showing us something. I'll see if I can weed out any more 'author addition' .
I might have something
Mary Rosenblum:  Give it a try, Illinois!
Billy leveled his weapon and readied a war-whoop. Water gurgled and Lucy leaped toward him. He stumbled backward, nearly losing is balance. She grabbed his arm and yanked, let out a screech--same sound he'd once from a stray cat in a dog fight. Since when did girls learn hand-to hand combat?  They struggled an awkward waltz for ten, maybe fifteen seconds. Reminded him of Miss Prudie's Cotillion Class in 6th grade, except those girls weren't wearing swimsuits...or packing bazookas.  The danced paused, but instead of changing partners both clung to the soaker, Lucy's eyes glued to the gun's icy innards, Billy's zigzagging. "Not as clever as you think, hum?" Lucy shifted her weight from one foot to the other, calculating her next move.
Mary Rosenblum:  Nice, Illinois!  So let's look at this sentence by sentence. Action scene! This is when 'telling' really makes it seem told.  Mostly you're doing an excellent job of 'showing'.  Billy levels his weapon, ready to yell. He hears water gurgle and suddenly Lucy is leaping toward him....all his perception so far, no author intrusion here. He stumbles back and is aware that he's losing his balance...still his limited pov. She grabs his arm, he's aware of that yank hears that screech. So here, Billy is interpreting a bit more, but you the author are staying out of it. he thinks about when he heard the same sound and wonders where she learned hand to hand?  Your next sentence is the first author intrusion. they struggled in an awkward waltz. Very cute, but does Billy think of it as an awkward waltz?  They waltzed through the rising water. Like Miss Prudie's Cotillion...
The rest is his interpretation. Not the author. So that's good. While it's very cool for tough POVs to think about how this moment of combat compares to cat sounds and a dance class, it can make the scene seem a bit contrived and 'comic book' if you're trying to set up a seriously dramatic moment.  It works if the moment is light, not if it's dramatic.  And in this case, it’s light, so it works. 

Very nice!
Thanks. New to fiction
Mary Rosenblum:  So this is a very nice example of showing and the thoughts about the class and the cat screech work because this is a water fight and humorous, not a life and death adventure. Good example, Illinois.  Because it's light, I'd even leave in that bit of narrative about them waltzing awkwardly.  It's cute and it suits the tone. It's not that you should NEVER include narrative, but rather that you include it intentionally when it works and do not include it when it does not work.

 Now if this was not a humorous water-fight scene, but a real battle scene, that internal narrative would jar with a life and death scene. But it's not a life and death scene.

 Someone else?  We have time for one more.

 I reversed the rifle and butt stroked the prisoner handcuffed to the interegation chair, laying flesh open to the bone. As he slumped forward I leaned in close and smiled."Wrong answer pal, lets try again, and don't bleed on my table."
Mary Rosenblum:  Okay, another good example, Kiwi.  This is first person, our narrator is in control of the situation and is describing action without adding a lot of interpretation. So you have good 'showing' in first person here.  And you did not say 'I smiled and told him.' Thank you!
So, to summarize, when you 'show' readers, you stick as much as possible to action, visual details, dialogue, and a minimum of internal narrative in order to allow readers to 'see' the scene in their mind's eye and to figure out for themselves what is happening.
I've got one if you have time...
Mary Rosenblum:  I sure do, speck.
It's not been worked on yet.
Mary Rosenblum:  Good. We can work on it here.
Kaiten hurried down the hall toward the dining room, her slippers almost silent on the cold stone floor. Her father's voice carried toward her down the empty hallway; tense, yet firm. "No, I will not do this thing. Uniting our families would bring dishonor upon us." She paused at the open door, head bowed and waited.
"Come daughter." Her father spoke low. "We have little time."
"I am here Father." Kaiten crossed the room and stood before her father. He sat at his desk, his face troubled. Behind him, the golden dragon of the family crest covered the wall, the tapestry threads shimmering in the lamplight. Sword Master Fujimoto stood beside her father, a frown on his face. A frown that meant trouble. She had seen his frown often enough during her lessons. He looked away, not meeting her eyes. Kaiten looked back to her father. "What would you have of me?"
Mary Rosenblum:  Your second paragraph is fine. This is everything Kaiten is awre of...she sees him at his desk, notices his expression and the family crest behind him.
The problems I see right away are the "tense and firm"
Mary Rosenblum:  yeah, that first paragraph is a bit told. Try giving us her father's voice first, and Kaiten's interpretation of it next.

Kaiten hurried down the hall toward the dining room, her slippers almost silent on the cold stone floor.

"No, I will not do this thing." Her father's voice stopped her in mid stride. "Uniting our families would bring dishonor upon us." He sounded...distressed. She stepped silently to the open door, bowed her head.
"Come daughter." Her father raised his head, his eyes unreadable. "We have little time."
I merely moved that sound of his voice to after the words and let the tone become her reaction, which she telegraphs by stopping mid stride. Small change, of the polishing variety. Mostly this is nicely 'show don't tell'.

You all did a nice job. :-) I'd say you're getting 'show, don't tell' quite well.  Show don't tell seems a simple concept, but it can be quite hard to put into practice. But you'll get it!