By Janice Hardy,
@Janice_Hardy
At some point, nearly every writer struggles with
show, don't tell. It's just one of those aspects of the craft that's integral
to good writing and difficult to explain well. Which is funny, since explaining
is part of the show, don't tell problem. The more you explain, the more told
your story feels.
Anytime you stop the story to explain why a character
is doing what she’s doing, or how something came to be, you’re probably
telling. People rarely halt their actions to think about the why—they just do
it. This is why simply putting the information into an internal thought doesn’t
work.
Not only does explaining risk telling, it frequently
kills the tension of the scene because you’re not leaving anything for readers
to figure out on their own. Rare is the person who will watch a sporting event
after hearing the final score.
Writers frequently add explanations for fear their
readers won’t understand why the characters are acting or what something means.
But more times than not, if you have to explain it flat out, you haven’t laid
enough groundwork for that reason to be clear. That’s an issue with the
writing, not the told prose, so just "fixing" the told prose doesn't
always fix the problem.
For example:
· When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she slapped him.
· Kim ran from the room because she didn’t want to see
him with another woman.
These explain the situation and reasons behind the
actions, but it wouldn’t take much to show enough details for readers to
understand what’s happening and why. Let's add just a few details to show what
we're explaining:
·
Stop it. Stop it stop it stop it. She trembled, the words a mantra holding back her
fury. “Enough!” she screamed, slapping him.
This
allows readers to see the character's frustration build until she
"couldn't take it anymore" and acted. They don't have to be told
that's how she feels, they can figure that out by what she thinks, says, and
does.
·
He stood by the
fountain, smiling at the woman who’d replaced her in his life. Kim frowned and
turned around. No way was she walking in there.
This
shows Kim acting like a person struggling with seeing an ex with a new
girlfriend, and letting readers figure out why. It also allows you to show
Kim's emotional state and use that to connect with readers. The emotional
impact of, " she didn’t want to see him with another woman" is much
different than Kim's defiant refusal to look at the new couple. Readers can
wonder what she's feeling and what will happen next.
Storytelling is all about dramatizing, while
exposition is about explaining, which is why you typically find a lot of it in
the beginning of a story. Exposition is necessary to tell a story, but it hangs
out with some pretty unsavory characters—infodump and backstory. Unless handled
carefully, they can be story killers.
The basic definition of exposition sums up the
pitfalls nicely: writing or speech primarily intended to convey information or
to explain.
That’s also a solid definition for told prose. In
writing terms:
· It’s when the science fiction protagonist gets into an
anti-gravity car and the story stops to explain how it works and what it looks
like.
· It’s when the romance protagonist has a bad date and
the story stops to explain why this guy was particularly rough on her due to
her past.
· It’s when the young-adult protagonist visits her dad
at work and the story stops to explain how unhappy he is in his job and why
this is upsetting her.
Notice the key phrase in all of those: the story stops. When the characters stop acting like
themselves and your author-ness sneaks in to make sure readers understand some
aspect of the scene, you’ve probably dipped into the telling type of
exposition.
This is so easy to do (and so common) that Mike Myers
even named a character after it in his Austin Powers movies: Basil Exposition,
whose job is to come on screen and explain the relevant plot information in
that scene. Need a summary of what the bad guy’s been up to? Just ask Basil and
he’ll explain it all. While this is a clever way to spoof the cliché in the
movies, it doesn’t work the same for a novel.
In the worst cases, explaining the story can insult
your readers' intelligence. It can look as though you don’t think they can “get
it” unless you explain it, and that can be a little condescending. If you’ve
ever had someone explain a joke to you, you know how annoying that is. Trust
your readers to get it.
However, sometimes you do need to explain things to readers so they can understand and
enjoy the story, and there’s no natural way to write it without spending pages
dramatizing something you could just explain in a line or two. In these cases,
there's no harm in a little telling. Just make sure it's the best thing to do
for the story.
Knowing when to show versus tell can be a challenge,
but if you look at what you're explaining, and think about what character
actions and thoughts get that same idea across to your readers, you avoid a lot
of unintentional telling.
Do you struggle with
show, don't tell? Have you ever explained too much in your story?
Check out my new book, UnderstandingShow, Don't Tell (And Really Getting it), and learn what show, don't tell means, how to spot told prose in
your writing, and why common advice on how to fix it doesn't always work.
Janice Hardy is the award-winning author of The Healing Wars trilogy and the Foundations of Fiction series, including Planning Your Novel:
Ideas and Structure, a self-guided
workshop for planning or revising a novel, the companion Planning Your Novel
Workbook, Revising Your Novel: First Draft to Finished Draft, and
the first book in her Skill Builders Series, Understanding Show, Don't Tell
(And Really Getting It). She's also the founder of the writing site,
Fiction University. For more
advice and helpful writing tips, visit her at www.fiction-university.com or @Janice_Hardy.
*Excerpted from Understanding
Show, Don't Tell (And Really Getting It)





