What does Show don't Tell actually mean
I am asking this question because I think we need a precise definition of what Show Don't Tell means if we are to decide if it is good advice or bad, or if it is a valid suggestion for certain passages but not a general rule for a whole book.
Orson Scott Card was a particular critic of Show Don't Tell
OSC Replies: You said: "I made it a point throughout the novel to not tell motivations, but try to show them."
And you did this because ... of those morons who told you "show don't tell"?
Because motivation is unshowable. It must be told. (In fact, most things must be told.) The advice "show don't tell" is applicable in only a few situations -- most times, most things, you tell-don't-show. I get so impatient with this idiotic advice that has been plaguing writers for generations.
But in this discussion it is suggested that reporting of motivations is allowed in Show Don't Tell, which provokes the question: what is in and what is out in Show Don't Tell. Because if it is good advice or bad, we can't expect people to follow it if it is not well defined.
3 answers
Thought verbs
Chuck Palahniuk, an accomplished master of showing, suggested an exercise to learn not to tell. The exercise is to not use "thought verbs". Instead of telling the reader what a character thinks or feels, you have to show them how they behave. Palahniuk calls this "un-packing" the emotion or thought.
Using this exercise and Palahniuks examples, we can understand what the difference between "showing" and "telling" is.
Incapacitating the reader
When you use thought verbs to "tell" how a character feels or what they think, you tell the reader what to think.
You interpret the world for them.
When you avoid thought verbs and "show" the reader the raw version of the world,
you allow them to think for themselves
– and to come to a different conclusion than you.
Let's look at an example.
John loves Joan.
This tells the reader how to interpret John's behavior. While
Every day John bought Joan a flower and walked to the other side of town to lay it on her door step - then quickly ran away so she wouldn't see him.
shows the reader what John does. And the reader might disagree with you. The reader might think that what you show is not love, but, for example, obsession, and that John is stalking Joan.
Hubris vs mastery
A writer who tells claims to understand the world. When I write "John loves Joan", I do not in fact tell you that John loves Joan, but that I know what love is and that I know John's mind better than he does himself.
But different people have different ideas of love. And most people don't know how they feel. They feel sexually attracted to someone, or they care for the wellbeing of someone, or they are afraid of loosing someone's care and attention. Showing means that you do not fob off the reader with an abbreviation of the story but give them the wealth of sensory input that being in the story would entail. Which requires good observational skills and a mastery of language.
Show/tell vs point of view
Showing and telling have to be distinguished from first and third person narration. "I love Joan" is telling in first person, "Every day I put flowers in front of Joan's door" is showing in first person.
Show/tell vs stream of consciousness
Showing and telling must also be distinguished from interiority and exteriority. The examples above take an outside view of events, and just as you can tell or show what goes on from outside, you can tell or show thought processes.
Telling interiority looks exactly like telling exteriority:
John loves Joan.
Showing interiority can of course not completely avoid thought verbs, because we lack the words (and probably the self-reflective power) to describe the details of our thought processes, but it can "un-pack" the abbreviations and abstain from interpreting more than necessary:
Laying the flowers on Joan's door step, he strained to listen for any sounds from within. Every creaking or bump sent a jolt of terrified lust through his tense body. John both hoped and feared that Joan would catch him, and he was both glad and disappointed as he walked away from her house.
These examples aren't well written, but I hope you can still understand the idea I'm trying to convey.
Related questions:
- What does "telling and not showing" mean?
- "Thought" Verbs: A sign of weak writing or a stylistic choice?
- Writing techniques or exercises to improve ability to show rather than tell?
- Skipping telling to get to the showing - pros and cons
- How can I implement more show less tell in my writing?
This post was sourced from https://writers.stackexchange.com/a/24192. It is licensed under CC BY-SA 3.0.
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To me, the phrase Show don't Tell can have only one clear meaning, and it comes down to what it means to show. Show means to describe what the reader would see for themselves if they were present in the scene. This means that you can describe action and you can report dialog. You can also describe the scenery, though not its history or its significance. You cannot describe thoughts or motivations, because those cannot be seen, and what cannot be seen cannot be shown. All you can show is the things people do or say as a result of their thoughts or motivations: the things the reader could see for themselves if they were a fly on the wall.
If "show" is allowed to encompass things that cannot be seen, then where is the limit to it? What then is not showing? What would then count as telling?
This definition does not make "show don't tell" bad advice or good advice, but it does make it a technique that is rarely seen in successful published fiction, either today or in the past.
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I agree you must tell some things; but I think you can embed those tellings in a "showing":
Anna shifted the sword on her back for the tenth time since morning, the strap refused to rest in that long worn dent at the end of her collar bone, and kept slipping toward her neck. Her luck, she'd reach for the sword and miss the god damn handle. Marcus said something behind her, and she missed it. She stopped short. "What?"
He caught up. "I said, why are you walking so fast?"
"I hate this goddam sword!"
Personally I think it is stronger if I tell you what is going through her mind, both indirectly (the sword "refuses" to behave) and directly (she wants the sword handle in a precise spot she can reach blindly. I do tell what she is thinking, without saying "she thought." I just report the thought as silent mental dialogue.
I think of the "Show Don't Tell" admonition as avoiding impersonalization and generalization. These distance the reader from the characters.
"Jim felt patriotic" is poor because "Patriotic feelings" are not precise enough for the reader to turn those feelings into ramifications or predictions about Jim's behavior. Is he about to give his life for his country, or tie on his red-white-and-blue Uncle Sam apron and pour some charcoal in the grill?
Is it the Fourth of July and some astounding Fireworks? Or is it the Fourth of July and Jim is remembering his fifteen year old self attending the military funeral of his warrior father?
Of course I do have to tell you what Jim is thinking, just like I'd have to tell you what he does, but then I am telling you something precise and specific.
The same goes for "Jim felt sick", "Jim felt angry", "Jim loved Marcia". Would you write "On their first date, Marcia said something that made Jim fall in love with her" and leave it at that? So enough said, now Jim loves Marcia?
Of course not; it is far too ludicrously non-specific and the reader cannot imagine anything from it. So that would be an extreme case; but the same idea applies with less force to generalizations like "sick" or "frustrated".
I'd agree with Orson Scott Card that in the end everything is "tell". I have to tell you Jim threw the coffee cup at Rachel, missed her head by an inch, and broke the glass on the microwave door.
For me at least, Show Don't Tell means to be more specific and concrete in description, and that tends to take many more words and involve more action and specific emotions. Feeling "irritated", for Anna and her sword, influences her behavior and mental imagery in a specific and concrete way in the moment of this story. So much so that I don't have to tell you she is "irritated".
The same will be true for other generalizations one might be tempted to use; if they apply they should mean something in the moment, and perhaps in the future: Anna being forced to use an unfamiliar sword can have ramifications later, either positive or negative. (e.g. Marcus and Anna are ambushed, Anna dispatches four attackers before Marcus can engage one: then says, "I still hate this sword.")
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