Writing Tips from an Editor (Who Also Writes)
People throw around the phrase âShow, donât tellâ all the time. But what does it mean? Really?
When Iâm editing a clientâs work, I always explain what I mean when I say âShow, donât tell,â so I know weâre on the same page (pun intended).Â
FYI: This advice is really 2nd or 3rd draft advice. Donât tie yourself in knots trying to get this perfect on the first go. First drafts are for telling yourself the story. Revisions are for craft.Â
Ruthlessly hunt down filter words (saw, heard, wondered, felt, seemed, etc.). Most filter words push the reader out of narrative immersion, especially if youâre writing in 1st person or a close 3rd person. âShe [or I] heard the wind in the treesâ is less compelling than âThe wind rustled through the treesâ or âThe wind set the bare branches to clacking.â Obviously, the point of view character is the one doing the hearing; telling the reader whoâs doing the hearing is redundant and creates an unnecessary distance between the characterâs experience and the readerâs experience of that experience. Was/were is another thing to watch out for; sometimes, nothing but was will do, but in many instancesââThere was a wind in the treesâ âThere were dogs barkingâââwasâ tells, whereas other phrasing might evokeââThe wind whispered/howled/screamed through the treesâ âDogs snarled/yipped/barked in the courtyard/outside my door/at my heels.âÂ
Assume your readers are smart. What does this mean? Donât tell the reader what your characters are thinking or feeling: âBob was sad.â How do we know? What does Bobâs sadness look like, sound like? What actions, expressions, words indicate Bobâs sadness? Does Bobâs sadness look different than Janeâs would?
It also means that you need not repeat information unless you have something new to add to itâeven if itâs been several chapters since you first mentioned it. I think a lot of readers fall into this trap because writing often takes a long time. But what takes a writer days or weeks or months to write might take a reader fifteen minutes to read. So, if the writer keeps telling the reader about so-and-soâs flaming red hair or such-and-suchâs distrust or Bobâs blue eyes or Janeâs job as a neurosurgeon, the reader gets annoyed.Â
The last thing you want is your reader rolling their eyes and muttering, âOMG, I KNOWâ at the story youâve worked so hard to write. It certainly means you donât need to have characters tell each other (and through them, the reader) what the story is about or what a plot point means.
Along these same lines, let the reader use their imagination. âBob stood, turned around, walked across the room, reached up, and took the book from the shelf.â Holy stage directions, Batman! A far less wordy âBob fetched the book from the shelfâ implies all those irrelevant other details. However, if Bob has, say, been bedbound for ten years but stands up, turns around, and walks across the room to fetch the book, thatâs a big deal. Those details are suddenly really important.
Write the action. Write the scene with the important information in it. Let the reader be present for the excitement, the drama, the passion, the grief. If youâre finding yourself writing a lot of after-the-fact recap or âhe thought about the time he had seen Zâ or âand then they had done X and so-and-so had said Y,â youâre not in the action. Youâre not in the importance. Exceptions abound, of course; thatâs true of all writing advice. But overuse of recapping is dull. Instead of the reader being present and experiencing the story, itâs like theyâre stuck listening to someoneâs imperfect retelling. Imagine getting only âLast week onâŠâ and âNext week onâŠâ but never getting to watch an episode.
Iâm editing a book right now with some egregious use of this. The author has a bad habit of setting up a scene in the narrative presentââThe queen met the warrior in the garden.ââbut then backtracking into a kind of flashback almost immediately. âLast night, when her lady-in-waiting had first suggested meeting the warrior, she had said, âBlah blah blah.â The queen hadnât considered meeting the warrior before, but as she dressed for bed, she decided they would meet in the garden the next day. Now, standing in the garden, she couldnât remember why it had seemed like a good idea.â
Thatâs a really simplified and exaggerated example, but do you see what Iâm getting at? If the queenâs conversation with the lady-in-waiting and the resulting indecision are important enough to be in the narrative, if they influence the narrative, let the reader be present for them instead of breaking the forward momentum of the story to âtellâ what happened when the reader wasnât there. Unless itâs narratively important for something to happen off-page (usually because of an unreliable narrator or to build suspense or to avoid giving away a mystery), show your readers the action. Let them experience it along with the characters. Invite them into the story instead of keeping them at a distance.
Finally, please, please donât rely on suddenly or and then to do the heavy lifting of surprise or moving the story forward; English has so many excellent verbs. Generally speaking, writers could stand to use a larger variety of them.Â
(But said is not dead, okay? SAID IS VERY, VERY ALIVE.)