Story Building (Part VIII): story alive

Good ideas often turn cliché: pirates hunting for treasure, the girl going for the “unlikely” guy, and new twists on fairy tales. The writing rule, “show, don’t tell,” is no exception. Everyone has heard of it because it is a good idea. And it’s actually a cliché that we should implement. But how do you do it? And not just do it, but do it well? How do you know when to slow down and describe, or when to sum up?

When to Show

Focus on where there is potential conflict. Show and describe those points. Don’t take shortcuts and say, “there was a clash of swords, and Hero overpowered the Villain.” Show the fight! Show action played out, walk us through the action from a to b.

For example, compare these two sections covering the same event, from my fantasy WIP, Lionel of Angrasté: Assassin of Love. I’ve colored the parallel sentences that tell in the first example and show in the second.

Telling:

He could not play with a woman like one plays with a pawn. “And where is this ‘Chosen one’?” Erik asked. “How will he fulfill the Prophecy and when?”

Boruk bowed his head. “I know not, Sire. My sister died nine years ago, and the boy disappeared with her.”

Erik’s heart sank. “What?”

Boruk held up his hand. “But I trust the Prophecy to reveal its hour and way when it is time.”

Though true that Boruk did not know the time or way of fulfillment, he deemed it best to conceal the identity of Lionel for fear that Erik and Angrasté would succumb to Velden’s offer. Aye, so much power in the hands of Boruk both addicted and frightened him.

Showing:

Erik tightened his jaw and turned to Boruk. “Where is the Jagernite? How will he fulfill the Prophecy and when?”

Boruk bowed his head, still standing. “I know not, Sire. My sister died nine years ago, and the boy disappeared with her.”

The prince’s face paled. “What?”

Boruk held up his hand. “But I trust the Prophecy to reveal its hour and way when it is time.”

“Trust?” Erik tightened his jaw again. He turned to his father. “Let me go after her now.”

The king barely shook his head and turned to Boruk. He narrowed his gaze, his eyes piercing. “Is it true that you do not know where he is?”

Boruk rested his hand on the grip of his sword. “You and your son are weak. You would give him up and sacrifice your world to the devil.”

King Korban sprang to his feet. “Where is he?”

Boruk stepped forward. “I said I know not.”

The king strode to Boruk and stopped, his eyes inches from the Elder’s. “Dare you lie to me?”

Elder Boruk laid his hands on the king’s shoulders. “Have I lied to you before?” He sighed. “Sovereign?”

Korban stepped back and bowed. “Forgiveness,” he muttered and returned to his throne.

Boruk turned and sat, his gaze falling on Lionel for a split second. A crazed power sparked in his eyes, and he turned back to the front of the room.

Notice that the “showing” segment is longer, but also more interesting. I added disputing dialogue between the king and Boruk. Much of that interchange shows what I dumped on the reader in the last, boring paragraph of the “telling” example. I especially like where Boruk reveals a bit of his fear through his acknowledgment of the king’s cowardice, and where he clearly lies without me saying,

“Boruk stepped forward. ‘I said I know not,’ he lied.”

Showing gives the opportunity for better conflict, better raising of questions, and better character development. It also gave me, in this case, more accurate narration of the story. Though the story is in 3^rd-person, most of it stems from Lionel’s perspective, not an omniscient narrator. He could not have possibly known the thoughts/reasons behind the dialogue in the first example, but he can clearly see the gestures shown in the second.

When to Tell

But how do you know when not to show and just sum up? Look for necessary, but boring sections that don’t have need or potential for conflict. Here is a paragraph from a short story I wrote about “a day when everything goes wrong.” The context is a young family taking a several hour road trip, and now they have a flat. Husband and wife are changing the tire.

“He handed me a tire chock which I placed behind the back-left tire. Brady used a hand jack to raise up the car. He loosened the lug nuts, removed them, then the tire. We lifted the tire into place, and while Brady fastened it to the car, I rolled the toasted tire to the trunk.  Brady let the car down, put the flat tire into the trunk, then together we reloaded the tools and bags. We lost another twenty minutes with that little ordeal.”

I specifically remember boredom as I wrote that, but thinking, “show, don’t tell.” If the plot needed, I could have written an interesting argument as the couple switched out the tire, but that wasn’t necessary. I just needed to show them getting a flat and changing it. I could have shortened it to,

“It was either sweat outside with Brady and help change the tire or sweat inside the car with three kids under age nine. I decided to help Brady, and twenty minutes later, climbed back into the sweltering car, dusty, blackened with grease, and wondering what made me think this road trip was a good idea.”

The second example is summing up with just enough details (and sarcastic, grumbling conflict) to make it more interesting than what I “showed.”

Showing Well

Becoming good at showing takes work. Something I’ve begun doing is taking time to observe details that capture me, then writing them down.

When you show, show precise, interesting details to paint a picture. Show the beats of the sword fight, the chatter of machine guns, the dust swirling through the air. Try to make it come alive. Don’t write:

“The moon shined on the land. The ground was dry from the famine. The Boundary River flowed on the left. Straight ahead, the town climbed up to the palace at the citadel. The red flags sat on top of the towers. The Temple stood on the left of the castle.”

Try instead, to paint a vibrant picture. Slow down to really imagine and see:

“The moon washed the fields of Angrasté in white light, defining hills and slopes in the farmland with highlights and shadows. Once beautiful and green, ugly gashes now scarred the brown, harvested landscape in attempt to bring water channels through the rain-starved fields. To the left, the Boundary River seeped through the hills, the moon glinting off the trickle of water that remained. Straight ahead, the town rose above its walls, climbing to the citadel where the palace sat in the northwest corner of town, immense and immoveable with its stone walls and square towers. The Angrastéan red flags snapped in the breeze at the top of the towers like mere ribbons in the distance. To the left of the palace stood the Temple, its seven white-faced arches shining in the moonlight.”

At the same time, don’t over describe. Let the reader use their experience to know that rocks are hard, mud is squishy, and that someone’s heart is in their chest (there is a song I know of where one of the lines is, “every heartbeat in my chest”…that line describes nothing for me that I didn’t already know). Over-showing clutters the space and tells the reader you don’t think they’re smart enough to figure it out. However, when necessary, go ahead and specify. Once I described water as black because it’s not the norm.

Consider your pacing as well. A faster scene requires snap-shot descriptions, while a longer scene can contain more detail.

Also, try to bring in the body’s five senses of sight, taste, smell, hearing, and touch. Scents are an especially powerful tool.

Telling Well

Looking back at the example shown in the tire-changing scene, you can see that I summed up the necessary information with some detail and conflict to make it stay interesting.

This week, practice describing details and showing conflict more fully. Sometimes, it may help to write down what you want to see (i.e. a smoke covered mountain), and then expound on that.

Feel free to post your notes in the comments. I’d love to read and give feedback on them if you’d like. And as always, post your questions and I’ll be happy to answer. See you next week!

…

What explosion of detail will make your story come alive? Where can you eliminate unnecessary showing and sum up in an interesting way?

…

P.S. I find it…interesting…that I chose a photo of a door for the picture for this week’s post. I thought it demonstrated cool detail. But then I remembered Nathaniel Hawthorne’s book, The Scarlet Letter, ironically begins with an entire chapter describing what a door looks like. No offense to Mr. Hawthorne, but please don’t follow his example. That was one of the driest book chapters I’ve ever read. ;)