probably the best irl example of "show dont tell" is when you go through the video progress bar on a song on youtube and on the start of the song it says "most replayed"
Another way to think of show don’t tell is to describe the symptoms rather than tell the affliction. You could say someone was close to fainting—or you could describe their symptoms and trust the readers to understand what they mean: the world swirled around her head, her ears beginning to hum lowly, then louder, increasing into a high-pitched ring. She took a deep breath, her stomach turning over itself. Etc.
Symptoms can also mean the lump in your throat as a “symptom” of being sad enough to cry, or the warmth of your face as a “symptom” of embarrassment.
That might sound a bit silly, but I find it really helpful when I’m reading over mine or others work and looking for those places where showing would be better than telling. Have you described the symptoms, or just told the affliction?
Here’s a short list of “afflictions” and their associated “symptoms” to get you started (but make sure to explore how different characters express different afflictions, even in more odd or unusual ways!)
Any symptoms I missed?
One thing I’ve learned about writing is ”give everything a face”. It’s no good to write passively that the nobility fled the city or that the toxic marshes were poisoning the animals beyond any ability to function. Make a protagonist see how a desperate woman in torn silks climbs onto a carriage and speeds off, or a two-headed deer wanders right into the camp and into the fire. Don’t just have an ambiguous flock of all-controlling oligarchy, name one or two representatives of it, and illustrate just how vile and greedy they are as people.
it’s bad to have characters who serve no purpose in the story, but giving something a face is a perfectly valid purpose.
Hey all, here’s a quick tip about showing the passage of short amounts of time in a scene. I see a lot of beats like this:
She hesitated
He paused
A few seconds later
There was a long silence
He waited for her to answer
She didn’t respond
Instead of telling us there’s a brief moment of silence or pause in your scene, try showing us by creating the feeling that time has passed through action, description, or inner monologue. Here are a few examples.
Before:
“Are you coming or not?”
He waited for her to answer, but she didn’t respond.
“Clare? Did you hear me?”
“Huh?”
After:
“Are you coming or not?”
Clare scrolled through her phone, her face illuminating with a eerie blue glow.
“Clare? Did you hear me?”
“Huh?”
Before:
Jared lingered at the suspect’s front gate. If this guy didn’t answer Jared’s questions, he was screwed.
“Hey you!” a voice shouted. “Get off my property!”
Jared hesitated. Finally, he turned to face the man. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
After:
Jared lingered at the suspect’s front gate. If this guy didn’t answer Jared’s questions, he was screwed.
“Hey you!” a voice shouted. “Get off my property!”
Jared patted his holster. He had a gun, but he certainly didn’t want to use it. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face the man. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
Not only does creating a pause instead of describing a pause allow your reader to feel the moment more vividly, it gives you a chance to explain what exactly that pause is about. People hesitate, pause, don’t respond, etc. for all kinds of reasons. Give us as much insight as you can into your weird quiet moment.
Of course, you don’t need to do this every single time. Sometimes it’s fine to say “he paused” or “the room was quiet for a moment”—it could be the best choice for that scene. But look back through your draft and see if you’ve used those “telling” descriptions more often than you needed to. If so, try to create the feeling of a pause—perhaps one that gives the reader a bit more information—using these techniques.
Hope this helps!
Hot take: Actual literary analysis requires at least as much skill as writing itself, with less obvious measures of whether or not you’re shit at it, and nobody is allowed to do any more god damn litcrit until they learn what the terms “show, don’t tell” and “pacing” mean.
How do you set a scene without overusing visual descriptions?
Show, don’t tell is probably the most common writing advice any author will ever receive. Instead of explicitly telling readers what is happening or how characters are feeling, showing allows them to experience the story firsthand. It’s good advice, and important for writers to take to heart, but sometimes it can be difficult to get the balance right. Here are some practical tips to show, don’t tell:
To really immerse your readers in your story, you want them to feel as if they’re in it – experiencing the world you’ve built. By writing about how characters perceive and interact with their surroundings, you’ll draw your readers in.
Examples:
Telling: It was winter, and the water was cold.
Showing: I hunched my shoulders up, burrowing deeper into my coat as my heavy boots crunched through the thin ice forming at the water’s edge.
Excess scene description will almost always bring your narrative pacing to a screeching halt. Instead of describing the scene every time, describe your characters’ actions within it.
Examples:
Telling: The lake was frozen and the trees were covered in snow.
Showing: My heart pounded as I almost lost my balance on the ice beneath my feet. I ducked and weaved my way home, dodging the snow that the howling wind shook loose from the treetops above me.
When it comes to show, don’t tell, it can be easy to fall into the trap of over-describing. Language that is too flowery or over the top can be just as bad as telling. You want to set a scene, not explain it to death.
Examples:
Too much: The azure-blue lake glinted like diamonds under a glittering sun that shone like a lightbulb in the darkness.
Just right: The sun reflected off the ice brightly, highlighting the deep blue of the water beneath it.
The way a character speaks and acts can be the perfect way to show your readers who they are and set a scene without over-describing it. For example, you can use body language, like gestures and posture to reveal a character’s emotions or attitude in a way you can’t reveal by simply describing the scene. Sometimes an intricate description of the location is not as important as how the character feels in the moment
Examples:
Telling: The room was the same as he remembered as a child, with its red carpets, brown-papered walls, high ceilings, and huge wooden table propped in front of large bay windows. It made him anxious.
Showing: He shuffled anxiously to the table overlooking the garden, his mind heavy with the weight of childhood memories.