TELLING IS SOMETIMES OKAY AND BETTER THAN SHOWING

Write Better Now

So, I talk to a lot of writers about showing and not telling.

Showing is what it sounds like. You are showing what’s happening in the scene or with the character.
Telling is also what it sounds like. You are blunt and direct and are just stating things. Sometimes you’re stating and summarizing.

Here is a quick example:

Telling:

Shaun was cranky.

Showing:

Pogie the dog barked for hours at the dogs trotting by the house that morning and after a quick pause for a drink from her red water bowl in the kitchen, she’d pranced back to the living room sliding glass door and started again.

Shaun slammed his fist against his desk and roared, “Will you just shut up already?”

Telling often kills immediacy and lends to less vibrant writing and more exposition. We don’t want those things boring our reader, but here’s the thing: You can tell once in a while.

Gasp! I know!

Do not take this to mean that you should do a lot of telling, but you can do a little. As Janice Hardy writes in her book, Understanding Show, Don’t Tell (and really getting it)

“It’s perfectly valid technique for certain tasks, so you shouldn’t be afraid to use it when you need to. If showing is going to detract from events unfolding in the scene, or draw too much attention to what’s not important, it might be better to tell. It’s also better to tell if showing is going to bog down the story or bore the reader, such as relaying every punch or kick thrown in a lengthy fight.”

Or, someone walking to the car, pulling out the keys, unlocking the door, opening the door, closing the door. That sort of thing.

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So, when is it okay to do this naughty, naughty thing?

According to Hardy:

When you’re catching characters up

You don’t want the reader to relive the rabid hamster attack on Las Vegas when Sofie is explaining it to her friends. They’ve just lived through it.

When you’re trying to make a big dramatic impact

You sometimes need that big feel of a telling sentence at the end of a chapter or scene or sometimes the beginning.

They knew—no, they prayed—that they’d never see that hamster again.

To get some info down quickly.

On her blog, Sophie Pembroke breaks it down in a slightly different way with some other good points for times to tell.

She says it can be used for:

Transitions

Yes, the main character who staved off the rabid hamster attack went to the bathroom in between saving the world and telling the police about it. We don’t need to see that.

Time passing

That leads into Hardy’s point. There are things we don’t need to know. Flossing teeth, opening doors, tying shoes aren’t important unless they are.

Backstory

If you can’t weave in that the main character once had a beloved pet hamster named Hammy, then drop it like it’s hot in there, but do it quickly.

Unimportant secondary characters

Pembroke writes,

“In category romance particularly, there isn’t a lot of room for secondary characters. While you want to make them feel real and rounded to the reader, you can’t spend a lot of pages on them. So, where showing doesn’t add anything, or even takes away from the main point of the scene, feel free to indulge in a little telling to get the important information across and move back to what matters.”

What do you think? Is telling okay sometimes? Any other times where you think it’s a better choice?

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