By Bethany Jett, @BetJett

Show, Don’t Tell

Arguably, this is one of the biggest sins of a writer, and yet it’s so easy to slip into what I call “tattle-tale mode.” Is the reader experiencing the story, or are they listening to me rattle on the details like my seven-year-old does when his brother makes him mad?

“He hit me. He took my toy. He looked at me.”

Boring.

And naughty. But who wants to read that?

1. Captivate the senses.

The trick to showing a story is to make the reader feel like they’re there, and utilizing the senses does just that.

Take for example, the sentence He mowed the lawn.

Wouldn’t it be a far better thing to pull your reader into the moment? The smell of freshly cut grass stung his nose as sweat dripped down his cheeks. {Sense of smell.}

Can’t you see him? To add to the story, we can add the sound of the mower {hearing}, or even have particles from the weeds float into his mouth {taste}. Perhaps his hands are hurting from the cracked rubber on the handle {touch}. Maybe the lawn mower shoots an unseen rock towards the house and cracks a window. Anything can happen, but depth is created by simply showing us what’s going on.

2. Let the Reader Infer

The brilliance of Alfred Hitchcock was in what he didn’t show in his movies. It’s scarier to hear the squeak of a door slowly opening than to actually see it. Or in the case of one of the saddest moments in film history, at the end of a movie (that I can’t for the life of me find the name to) a child is holding a balloon on the street corner where the kidnapper is. Instead of watching the abduction, the movie ends with the balloon floating away, its owner suddenly gone.

Gives me chills.

It begs the question—how do we apply this genius to our writing?

Inference and assumption are fabulous tools in our writing arsenal. What’s left to the imagination can take you deeper into the plot than having it laid out in black and white.  The lovebirds go inside her apartment after a date. The bully walks away from behind the school, nursing a bloody knuckle.

3. Use Description Wisely.

We talked about this last week, but I’m drudging it up again.

I loved K.M. Weiland’s post: 5 Reasons Not to Describe your Character in a Mirror. My favorites: #4 and #5 — it’s contrived and will, without fail, annoy your fellow authors who are reading your story. This goes the same for editors perusing your work. A little bit is fine, but less is always more.

The blonde, blue-eyed, dimpled, petite main character is in Valley Girl terminology, “So yesterday.” And while I’m all about some blonde heroines (pats my highlighted mane), there are more interesting and unique descriptors that can be given to a character to fully develop not only her appearance, but who she is.

To do it well, show us your character is old by describing the painful arthritic clawing of her sun-spotted hands after decades of working as a seamstress. Indicate a man’s lifelong occupation as a rancher by his bowlegged gait and leathery cheeks. Give us more than the superficial hair shade + eye color + body size and you’ll win with your audience. Besides, I for one love characters with flaws (physical and personality-wise), and so do most readers.

4. Let your Characters Move

Similar to #1, let your characters show how they feel.  My favorite example of this is also the simplest.

Weak: He was uncomfortable.

Strong: He fidgeted.

Not only did we cut a word (yay flash fiction writers!) but by having our hero fidget, whether in his chair, in line, wherever he may be, the reader can infer (see #2) that he is uncomfortable. Or nervous. Or coming off a drug-induced high. Context is key here, but allowing your character to move around can help show his emotions without them being stated.

And in the spirit of playing the devil’s advocate, my husband’s favorite game, I leave you with a Writers Digest article written by Joshua Henkin entitled “Why ‘Show, Don’t Tell’ is the Greatest Lie of Writing Workshops.” I wholeheartedly agree with him—there has to be a balance and it needs to be done well. And after he gave his reason why “She bit her fingernails” is worse than “She was nervous,” I wanted to rewrite the entire example of #4.

Got an example of show, don’t tell? Do you struggle with this? Got any tips on how to not enter “tattle tale mode”?

Bethany Jett is an award-winning author of The Cinderella Rule, speaker, ghostwriter, and founder of JETTsetter Ink, a consulting and editing company. She has written for numerous publications, created the My Moments Planner, Serious Writer Companion, and is the founder of Serious Writer Academy and the Build Your Brand Program.

Bethany is a military wife and all-boys-mama who is addicted to suspense novels and all things girly. She writes on living a brilliant life at BethanyJett.com. Connect with her on Facebook, Pinterest,  Instagram, and Twitter.