Tell, Don't Show: When the Old Advice Doesn't Apply
So any aspiring writer who pays attention to advice has heard the saying, "show, don't tell." This helpful little gem is there to remind you that your story should be more than a laundry list of characters, their traits, and the events that happen to them. This is, of course, very important advice. You can't just tell the reader that Suzie Sunshine has a bubbly personality. You need to show it, though the enthusiastic way she buys Girl Scout cookies. Don't just say "and then they fought the most awesomest epic battle EVARRR!" You need to walk us through it, blow by blow, emotion by emotion.
There are, however, exceptions to this rule. There are (gasp!) times when you'd be better served by just coming out and telling the reader something, rather than trying to show or infer it with the story. These things include 1. minor details which are important to know but not a major plot element 2. things the POV character is not aware of and 3. things that are too complex or intangible to be shown and 4. compressed time.
Minor details can be things like elements from the character's backstory, as we discussed yesterday. They might also be contextual details having to do with the setting--geographical and historical. For example, some historical fiction will start off with a year underneath the first chapter title, or a year and a city. This is a fast and efficient way of letting the reader know when and where they are, without resorting to some hokey "show" trick, like writing "Mr. Pince-Nez picked up The New York Post. 'Ah,' he said to himself. 'July 30th, 1899. A wonderful day to be alive.'" Any reader of historical fiction has read this device, or one like it, enough times to be grateful for the simple elegance of New York, 1899 centered under the chapter title.
If you are an extremist like me, this rule can also save you from some uncomfortable situations where everything seems like telling. (I can't just say the flowers are red! I have to demonstrate their redness!) Think of it like this: tell details in order to show events. When in doubt, ask yourself whether elaborating this small detail will make the story richer and more real, or just hokey.
In the case of a third-person story, you may have times when you want the reader to know something that the main character doesn't, without switching the perspective. This would be the time for a quick "little did he know" insert; rather than forcing yourself to come up with awkward characters and an implausible secondary story line to allow you to "show" the crucial fact, it's perfectly acceptable to just say "meanwhile, across town, the scientists were unwittingly releasing the pathogen that would kill them all." Ok, I'd actually like to read that scene. But you see my point. This device can clue the reader in to things that the character is blissfully unaware of, which gives the reader a sense of anticipation (or dread) and can pull the story forward.
Some things are just too vague or complex to be shown. Subtle genetic mutations, for example. You'd probably have to either use the technique above (little did Jane know that at that very moment, her DNA was re-sequencing) or resort to some expository dialogue from a character who would know ("Your DNA is re-sequencing," the lab technician said. Jane gasped.). This also applies to things where even if the reader was shown exactly what was happening, they wouldn't understand the significance--either because it's some advanced process you had to research or had prior knowledge of, or because it's something you made up. The intricate workings of microbes as seen through a microscope, for instance, or the readings on an MRI machine, or the minutia of a peace treaty in a matriarchal monarchy in a made-up country.
This ties in nicely to the fourth instance of tell, don't show, which is compressed time. Whenever something is too long or boring or insignificant to go into detail about, it's perfectly fine to just skip it. For instance, if your story begins with your characters as seven-year-olds arriving at the king's castle for the first day of training, but the next big event doesn't occur until they are being knighted, you should feel no obligation to fill up 200 pages of nothing with the details of their training. We're reading this to get to the story, so find the story and lie, cheat, skip chunks, steal and kill to get to where the story is. Ok, don't actually do most of those. But don't be afraid to toss in a couple "After seven years of intense training..." or just a "ten days later".
These can do more than just save the reader pages of tedious, story-less reading; they can give the story dramatic effect, and make a statement. "At that moment, I knew that we would be together forever, that nothing could tear us apart, and I would love him until the end of time. Six months later, I was throwing the last of his shirts out the bedroom window and threatening to pop him one with the BB gun if he didn't get his good-for-nothing butt off my lawn."
Basically, every rule in writing comes down to this: does it make the story better? If it does, then there you go. If it doesn't, then it's either a bad rule, or simply doesn't apply to this particular instance. There's no God of Writing somewhere in the cosmos who carved these Ten Writing Commandments into stone and will smite you with the Lightning Bolt of Writer's Block and Rejection Letters if you break them. All the advice out there, mine included, is only useful if it actually helps you. Never be afraid to ignore other people.
Have a great Friday :)
There are, however, exceptions to this rule. There are (gasp!) times when you'd be better served by just coming out and telling the reader something, rather than trying to show or infer it with the story. These things include 1. minor details which are important to know but not a major plot element 2. things the POV character is not aware of and 3. things that are too complex or intangible to be shown and 4. compressed time.
Minor details can be things like elements from the character's backstory, as we discussed yesterday. They might also be contextual details having to do with the setting--geographical and historical. For example, some historical fiction will start off with a year underneath the first chapter title, or a year and a city. This is a fast and efficient way of letting the reader know when and where they are, without resorting to some hokey "show" trick, like writing "Mr. Pince-Nez picked up The New York Post. 'Ah,' he said to himself. 'July 30th, 1899. A wonderful day to be alive.'" Any reader of historical fiction has read this device, or one like it, enough times to be grateful for the simple elegance of New York, 1899 centered under the chapter title.
If you are an extremist like me, this rule can also save you from some uncomfortable situations where everything seems like telling. (I can't just say the flowers are red! I have to demonstrate their redness!) Think of it like this: tell details in order to show events. When in doubt, ask yourself whether elaborating this small detail will make the story richer and more real, or just hokey.
In the case of a third-person story, you may have times when you want the reader to know something that the main character doesn't, without switching the perspective. This would be the time for a quick "little did he know" insert; rather than forcing yourself to come up with awkward characters and an implausible secondary story line to allow you to "show" the crucial fact, it's perfectly acceptable to just say "meanwhile, across town, the scientists were unwittingly releasing the pathogen that would kill them all." Ok, I'd actually like to read that scene. But you see my point. This device can clue the reader in to things that the character is blissfully unaware of, which gives the reader a sense of anticipation (or dread) and can pull the story forward.
Some things are just too vague or complex to be shown. Subtle genetic mutations, for example. You'd probably have to either use the technique above (little did Jane know that at that very moment, her DNA was re-sequencing) or resort to some expository dialogue from a character who would know ("Your DNA is re-sequencing," the lab technician said. Jane gasped.). This also applies to things where even if the reader was shown exactly what was happening, they wouldn't understand the significance--either because it's some advanced process you had to research or had prior knowledge of, or because it's something you made up. The intricate workings of microbes as seen through a microscope, for instance, or the readings on an MRI machine, or the minutia of a peace treaty in a matriarchal monarchy in a made-up country.
This ties in nicely to the fourth instance of tell, don't show, which is compressed time. Whenever something is too long or boring or insignificant to go into detail about, it's perfectly fine to just skip it. For instance, if your story begins with your characters as seven-year-olds arriving at the king's castle for the first day of training, but the next big event doesn't occur until they are being knighted, you should feel no obligation to fill up 200 pages of nothing with the details of their training. We're reading this to get to the story, so find the story and lie, cheat, skip chunks, steal and kill to get to where the story is. Ok, don't actually do most of those. But don't be afraid to toss in a couple "After seven years of intense training..." or just a "ten days later".
These can do more than just save the reader pages of tedious, story-less reading; they can give the story dramatic effect, and make a statement. "At that moment, I knew that we would be together forever, that nothing could tear us apart, and I would love him until the end of time. Six months later, I was throwing the last of his shirts out the bedroom window and threatening to pop him one with the BB gun if he didn't get his good-for-nothing butt off my lawn."
Basically, every rule in writing comes down to this: does it make the story better? If it does, then there you go. If it doesn't, then it's either a bad rule, or simply doesn't apply to this particular instance. There's no God of Writing somewhere in the cosmos who carved these Ten Writing Commandments into stone and will smite you with the Lightning Bolt of Writer's Block and Rejection Letters if you break them. All the advice out there, mine included, is only useful if it actually helps you. Never be afraid to ignore other people.
Have a great Friday :)
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