Showing verses telling is a common topic in writing circles, especially among new writers. It can get kind of confusing after awhile because there are soooo many thoughts on how to show and not tell, variations on definitions, etc. It’s crazy.

Will you do some telling? Yes! If you write, “His brown hair curled over his forehead,” that’s “telling.” You just told me what his hair was doing.

Telling in the arena of doing, action, (she walked across the room) description is… wait for it… PROSE. Books are compiled for prose and dialog. So yes, describe things, tell the reader things, except…

For how the characters are feeling. SHOW me emotion. SHOW me action that applied to the emotion. SHOW me the heroine or heros actions.

Imagine you’re sitting in a theater and the star of the play walks on stage. The set is nice and homey, looks like a prairie, the lighting is warm, looks like twilight. The music plays. And your star goes:

“My name is Betty Sue Watson. I was born right here on the prairie and I was planning on leaving for this great adventure, wait til I tell you about it, then I met Jeb. Oh, I fell head over heels for Jeb but he didn’t know I was alive. I kept thinking, one of theses days he’s going to wake up and ask me out.”

Two characters enter stage left.

“See there’s Jeb, isn’t he handsome, with that skank Linda Lou who was such a ho in high school you would not believe but now she says she’s got religion and I don’t believe her for one moment. You know what she said to me the other day? Oh, look there’s my Mama, she’s going to be mad cause I left dishes in the sink. I always leave dishes in the sink. Anyway, so I was really hot for Jeb at the club about two months when Linda Lou just walked up and asked him to dance. He didn’t even say excuse me, to me.”

Don’t know about you,but I’m walking out of this play. Boring. You have to SET THE STAGE. Better to have Betty Sue working at a diner and Jeb comes in with Linda Lou. She hides in the back, refuses to wait on the because they’re at her table.

The other waitress confronts her and we hear part of the story. Use secondary characters to tell the story, to expand the stage. They aren’t just walk ons to say, “Hi” and “Goodbye” but people who impact your protagonist world.

Primarily, showing verses telling applies to emotion. It’s the author’s job to show the reader what the characters are doing and feeling, to show emotions, feelings, reactions, even what a character is thinking-through-action.

Telling means author is describing emotion and reaction in prose.

Struggling to show verses tell might mean the writer doesn’t know what the characters want in a scene or know the scene goal. Mostly likely, the author is trying to savor some great reveal or plot point, or the character evolution, for some slam-bam moment in the middle of the book and until she gets there, she creates a lot of prose for the reader to weed through.

Showing “pictures” the emotion, “pictures” the action – which often is related to emotion. For example, anger is shown when the character slams a door, speaks in terse, short sentences or maybe says nothing at all. But that’s easy right? Most of writers know to show an emotion.

Where writers get confused and lost is showing the emotion of the scene!

Let’s say our writer’s book is about a woman losing her job and discovers she’s not a corporate executive with a Suit for a boyfriend, but a cowboy rancher.

There are a couple of ways for our writer to “mess” up showing verses telling.

First option. The author has heroine driving down the high way thinking her way through her problem. She’s telling us all the details and consequences.

— Rick fired her. Dirty rotten scoundrel. Marlena fumed as she drove her brand new 2011 Mercedes along I-95 toward home. She’d emptied her savings account to buy this car, as well as her downtown loft. What about her cases? Was Rick prepared to just add thirty clients to his docket? He’d regret his actions tomorrow. She was the best tax accountant in the city. Oh no, she promised to help Dad and Mom put a new roof on their house. They worked so hard to put her through college. And what about the League of Women Against Tossed-out Christian Louboutins? They counted on her monthly contributions. END

Okay, as the reader we get a feel for Marlena. She’s chick, smart and kind, but we feel nothing for her. In one opening paragraph we know her fears, her dilemma, her causes but there’s no emotion, no conflict, no tension, no “let’s turn the page to find out what’s going on.” Our author gave us an info dump.

The illusion: The author thinks she’s given us conflict and tension because Marlena is upset. But tis not so.

Second option. The author has the heroine showing up at a gathering of girlfriends. She keeps the disaster in her head while the dialog is about trite inconsequential events that mean nothing to the story or reveal the heart of our protagonist.

— Marlena slapped her hand on the coffee bar. “Give me a tall latte, LuAnn.”
“Hey Marlena, how are you?” The barista reached for a tall clear cup.
“I’m needing a latte.” She’d just lost her job, that’s how she was doing. Rick Conway would regret his decision tomorrow. The moment he took her thirty clients and added them to his own case load. Then he’d remember she was the best tax accountant in the city.

Marlena paid for her latte and joined her girls at their table, the far one in the corner under the track lights. She sat, reaching for the Splenda. “Your hair looks good tonight, Tina.”
“Thanks Marlena. It’s the work of my new stylist.” Tina glanced around the table, sipping her coffee. “So, what are our plans for the weekend gals.”

Fixing my resume, thought Marlena. “Movies? Pizza. I’m in the mood for something cheap this weekend.”
“Cheap?” Tina gawked. “This from the girl who runs an orphanage for discarded Louboutins?” END

We get a feel for Marlena. She’s upset. She got fired. But we’re in the same boat as the first example. No emotion. No sense of her heart, her fears. She “thinks” it all. There’s no reaction from her friends to ease or heighten her fears because they don’t know. Instead, she talks about hair.

The illusion: This scene looks like showing because the author used dialog and action, but it’s still telling. As the reader, we never see or “feel” Marlena’s emotions. We never see her reaction, emotionally or physically, to losing her job. What’s going on inside her head? Her heart? What “lie” does she believe about herself that surfaces when she’s fired. What wound or fear is mined to the surface of her heart? What dream or desires have been crushed?

Here’s an example of how our author might “show” Marlena losing her job. (Depends on the set up and goal of the scene.)

In the parking lot of Taxes R Us, Marlena slipped her keys into the ignition of her car as the evening sun spilled through the windshield and turned the key. The engine clicked but did not fire.

Marlena hit the wheel with her hand. “No you don’t, you expensive piece of German engineering. Not today. Not. To. Day.” The beast was brand new but she’d taken it to the shop four times in two months. If she had to take it again, she was leaving it. They could afford it more than she could.

She turned the key again and the engine fired up, rumbling low, matching the sobs of her heart. Checking her review, Marlena shifted into reverse with cold, weak fingers. She paused at the image of her blood shot eyes. She didn’t want to cry when she left Rick’s office, but two steps down the hall she had to duck into the Ladies Room. The cold, hard tile room offered little comfort.
How did she get here? What happened? From a rising sun to a fallen star. She could still hear Rick’s tone, see his expression. The memory created a dark bond over her heart. She swallowed the bitter bile of rising fear.

Her phone rang, playing Michael Buble, and pulled Marlena from the precipice. She hoped it was Michael. Please, please, please.

“Marlena, Flick Dunham.”

What was left of her heart shattered, leaving a ringing sound in her ears. “I can’t talk now.” The phone slipped in her cold, weak grip.

“That’s what you said the last time.”

“Nothing’s changed, Flick.” Marlena checked her review and fired out of her parking slot. Salty tears rolled down the contours of her nose and gathered at her lips.

“I can’t wait any longer, Marlena.”

“Then do what you have to do.” She didn’t wait for his answer, but pressed End and flung her phone onto the passengers seat, and ran the red light. The angles and lines of the scene beyond her dash bent in the refracted light of her tears and heading home never seemed so dark. END

Here the reader “see” Marlena upset. We know something bad has happened to her but not quite sure what. Her job? Her boyfriend? Was she having an affair with her boss? Is someone after her? We get a sense of her emotions, her feelings, her reaction to a disaster. There’s tension. Who is Rick? Who is Michael? Who’s Flick. (Rick’s evil twin, mwwwahhhh.) What does she do for a living? All we’ve done here is set up her trouble. Even if the emotion lacks, there’s enough tension and trouble to make us turn a few more pages to find out what’s going on with the heroine.

The dialog relates to the action of the scene. It sets up the reader to “feel” the tension and wonder about the story question: What has happened to Marlena?

The scene is a combination of action, dialog, and prose with emotion.

The scene also has story world. Marlena in a corporate parking lot. Sun is falling through her windshield – which could be symbolic of brighter days to come after this dark one. The reader knows she drives an expensive car so we get a sense of her affluence.

A showing scene has SHARP components: (COURTESY OF OUR OWN SUSAN MAY WARREN)

S Stakes

H Hero/Heroine Identification

A Anchoring

R Run

P Problem

Stakes – What’s at stake in this scene? Our heroine’s life? Her identity? Her relationships? We’ve set the stage for raising the stakes.

Heroine – Who is our heroine? What’s she about. Show a small piece of her.

Run – We entered the scene on the run, after the “incident.” We’re seeing Marlena’s reaction.

Problem – The author introduced a hint of the problem. We leave the scene with Marlena in turmoil, telling Flick to do what he has to do. Then she runs a red light (which could speak of her own “tossing caution to the wind.”)