Scary Good Tool 7: Show Don't Tell
What is going on inside that noggin?
So, Bonefish, now that you know a few things about sensory words, adjectives, adverbs, metaphors, similes and noisy-know-nothings, are you ready to make a movie?
A movie? I thought we were learning how to write to keep a reader reading not make a movie.
We are, but Scary Good Writing is like making a movie, only inside your mind. Think about it. When you read a book, don't you see what you're reading inside your mind?
I never thought of it that way, but reading books is like watching a movie of the mind.
That's right and that leads us to our next story.
A movie? I thought we were learning how to write to keep a reader reading not make a movie.
We are, but Scary Good Writing is like making a movie, only inside your mind. Think about it. When you read a book, don't you see what you're reading inside your mind?
I never thought of it that way, but reading books is like watching a movie of the mind.
That's right and that leads us to our next story.
Blind Ben Sees
Blind Ben wanted to see one last story before he passed on. The dying old man paced impatiently in his small cabin, waiting for the writer man. The clock chimed 10:30. Blind Ben frowned. The writer man had never been late before. Something was wrong.
He heard a knock. He shuffled toward the door. He swung his cane in front of him like the pendulum of a clock. He opened the door.
“You’re late," Blind Ben said.
The young boy at the door nodded, and then realized his mistake. "Yes,” he said in a clear voice.
“You are not the writer man.”
“My father is sick today. He sent me to say he won't be coming to tell you a story.”
“Come in, boy." Blind Ben gestured with his cane for the boy to enter his cabin. In one corner of the small room stood a tattered cot. Two chairs and a table sat in the middle of the room. A pot of hot chocolate brewed on an old potbellied stove.
“Sit,” Blind Ben said.
The boy sat.
Blind Ben poured a cup of hot chocolate and put it in front of the youngster. “Drink.”
The boy drank.
“I am dying,” Blind Ben said. “I'm ready to go. I just wanted to see one last story. Just one last story and I can die happy.”
“See a story?" The boy said. “I thought you were blind. Can you read?”
“No. The writer man made me see with his words.” The old man leaned forward and clutched the boy's arm. “Make me see, boy. Make me see one last story with your words.”
“But I’m not a writer.”
“Try, boy. I long to hear one last story before I die. You've got to try."
“I'll try," the boy said. He closed his eyes and tried to think of a story. Nothing came to him. So he wrote what he knew.
“Deep in the woods, there lived a blind old man. He was dying. A young boy named Stephen went to his house to say to the old man that the boy’s father wouldn't be coming to tell him a story that day.”
“Make me see, boy. What did this boy look like?”
The boy looked at his reflection in the shimmering surface of the hot chocolate. “Stephen had sandy blond hair, the color of the straw he fed to his pet horse. Freckles dotted his cheeks. His missing front tooth made him look younger than his 11 years.”
“I can see Stephen’s face," Blind Ben said. “Show me more.”
“With eyes as blue as a cloudless day, Stephen looked out the window and saw…”
The boy paused and swallowed.
“What’s wrong?" Blind Ben said. “Why are you stopping? Keep going. What did he see?"
The boy looked out the window. He gulped and continued his story. “Stephen looked out the window and saw a cloaked figure in the distance. The figure floated eerily across the fields.”
“What does he look like? I can't see him. You got to make a movie in my mind. Make me see, boy.”
“A cowl covered the ghostly figure’s face. His bony hands clutched… they clutched something.”
“What is it, boy? Show me.”
“It’s a tool,” the boy said shuddering.
“What kind of tool? Be specific, boy. Make me see it.”
“It was a scythe. Its sharpened curved blade glinted in the sunlight.”
Blind Ben smiled. “I see it. I see it. Show me more of the story.”
The young boy licked his dried lips and said, “The shrouded figure floated toward the cabin. The wind blew the cowl from his face. His face was a fright.”
“What did his face look like, boy? I can't see a fright.”
“His face was a grinning skull. Glowing yellow eyes peered from the ghastly sockets. He pulled the shroud back over his face and kept coming. Stephen was scared.”
“I can't see it, boy. Show me. How was Stephen scared?”
“Cold fingers squeezed his guts. The back of his neck tingled. He watched the cloaked figure stop at the front door.”
There was a sharp rapping at the door.
“There was a sharp rapping at the door," the boy said watching the old man grab his cane and rise from his seat. “Blind Ben got up from his chair and went to the door.”
“I can’t see it. What does he do? Show me, boy.”
“The old man picked up his cane and tottered toward the door. Tick, tick, tick. His cane sounded like a clock winding down.”
Blind Ben nodded. “Good, good, I see it now.” He clutched his chest. His heart seized. “Tell the rest. Tell it quick.”
“‘Don’t open the door,’ Stephen said to the old man.
“But the old man ignored him and reached for the knob. He opened the door and there stood a cloaked figure carrying a scythe.”
“I see him,” Blind Ben said. He smiled, opened the door and said, “I see…”
That sure was a good yarn, Mr. Butt. That ending was killer.
Pencil, paper, ACTION!
I’m glad you like it, Bonefish. In the next lesson, it’s going to be your turn to make a movie of the mind. Remember use action verbs, dialogue, and sensory words to show what is happening.
Turn me loose. I'm ready to direct my first movie of the mind.
Turn me loose. I'm ready to direct my first movie of the mind.
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Lesson Review
Read your first example aloud, Bonefish. Let’s find out if I can see it happening.
The sad worker cried at his desk.
Not bad for a first try. May I give you a different example that shows a little bit more?
Fire away, Mr. Butt.
The sobbing man slumped at his desk, clutching his last paycheck in his hand. He cried, “For stealing one lousy paperclip?”
I get it. You learn that the man’s crying because he was fired for stealing a paper clip.
That’s right, but I showed it through action. I didn’t even have to say he was fired. What’s your next example?
Old man Grunk shouted to the singing birds perched in a towering oak tree, “Shut up, you feathered fools. There’s nothing to be happy about in this crappy forest.”
He’s a grumpy old man and he lives in the woods. Good, you’re showing the reader what’s happening, not telling him what’s happened. Now, what about Carmen getting angry and going into the house? How did you show that?
Carmen stomped into the house.
Simple, but shows the action. Now show “Vernon smelled something.”
Vernon smelled terrible.
Vernon smelled terrible? Tell me, my clever caretaker, how do you smell “terrible”?
Forget your deodorant?
I mean in the example Vernon smelled something, something is a noun. In your example, Vernon smelled terrible. Terrible is an adjective.
Oh, I see. Okay. Vernon sniffed the rotten fish on his plate. He almost lost his recently consumed chips.
Much better, we see “how” he smelled something (sniffed) and that the something he sniffed was a rotten fish. Number 5?
Sonny broke the lamp.
Breaking a lamp isn’t always clumsy. You need more information.
Oh, right. How about:
Sonny tripped over the carpet and crashed into the lamp… again.
Ye Gads, Bonefish. The addition of “again” at the end of this sentence was a brilliant way to show Sonny is clumsy. You are getting better and better. I just hope you keep it up so I can avoid all that wailing and gnashing of teeth and you can keep your life. Now do the sentence about Brunella the witch.
Let's see:
The delighted Brunella stared at the children walking toward her house.
The sad worker cried at his desk.
Not bad for a first try. May I give you a different example that shows a little bit more?
Fire away, Mr. Butt.
The sobbing man slumped at his desk, clutching his last paycheck in his hand. He cried, “For stealing one lousy paperclip?”
I get it. You learn that the man’s crying because he was fired for stealing a paper clip.
That’s right, but I showed it through action. I didn’t even have to say he was fired. What’s your next example?
Old man Grunk shouted to the singing birds perched in a towering oak tree, “Shut up, you feathered fools. There’s nothing to be happy about in this crappy forest.”
He’s a grumpy old man and he lives in the woods. Good, you’re showing the reader what’s happening, not telling him what’s happened. Now, what about Carmen getting angry and going into the house? How did you show that?
Carmen stomped into the house.
Simple, but shows the action. Now show “Vernon smelled something.”
Vernon smelled terrible.
Vernon smelled terrible? Tell me, my clever caretaker, how do you smell “terrible”?
Forget your deodorant?
I mean in the example Vernon smelled something, something is a noun. In your example, Vernon smelled terrible. Terrible is an adjective.
Oh, I see. Okay. Vernon sniffed the rotten fish on his plate. He almost lost his recently consumed chips.
Much better, we see “how” he smelled something (sniffed) and that the something he sniffed was a rotten fish. Number 5?
Sonny broke the lamp.
Breaking a lamp isn’t always clumsy. You need more information.
Oh, right. How about:
Sonny tripped over the carpet and crashed into the lamp… again.
Ye Gads, Bonefish. The addition of “again” at the end of this sentence was a brilliant way to show Sonny is clumsy. You are getting better and better. I just hope you keep it up so I can avoid all that wailing and gnashing of teeth and you can keep your life. Now do the sentence about Brunella the witch.
Let's see:
The delighted Brunella stared at the children walking toward her house.
Not so good. You’re telling us Brunella is delighted, not showing us that she's a delighted witch. Also staring doesn't really go with delighted. What if you wrote:
Brunella the witch saw the plump children skipping toward her gingerbread house. She licked the frown off her face and turned on the oven.
Wow. I see her licking her lips and smiling then turning on the oven because she's going to eat those plump children skipping toward her gingerbread house.
Exactly, Bonefish, just what I wanted you to see. I think you're ready for the second exercise that makes it easy to tell the difference between showing and telling.
Brunella the witch saw the plump children skipping toward her gingerbread house. She licked the frown off her face and turned on the oven.
Wow. I see her licking her lips and smiling then turning on the oven because she's going to eat those plump children skipping toward her gingerbread house.
Exactly, Bonefish, just what I wanted you to see. I think you're ready for the second exercise that makes it easy to tell the difference between showing and telling.
Ed. note to teachers: This next lesson is a group exercise for students. Do not print out a copy for each student.
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Lesson Review
Wow, Mr. Butt it’s really easy to tell the difference between showing and telling when you act out the writing.
That’s right. If it’s easy to act out exactly what you write and you can film it, you know that it’s showing by action and not telling. Now let’s make a movie of the mind by doing the next lesson.
That’s right. If it’s easy to act out exactly what you write and you can film it, you know that it’s showing by action and not telling. Now let’s make a movie of the mind by doing the next lesson.
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Lesson Review
I finished my movie of the mind, Mr. Butt.
Read it aloud, Bonefish.
Bink trembled when he heard the giant’s stomach rumble. The scared, thin fairy hated to fight. He had moss green skin and wings, but was afraid to fly. Droog, a stubborn troll, loved to fight. He had big muscles and smelled bad. He snorted before he talked. He and the fairy hid from the giant in a forest. It was the middle of winter.
Pretty good, right?
Pretty bad, Bonefish. You’re telling us about the two characters not showing them in action. “The scared thin fairy hated to fight” tells us that he’s thin, scared, and hates to fight, but it doesn't show a thin fairy being scared or hating to fight. You can’t film it. You also tell us he has moss green skin and wings. You tell us he's afraid to fly. It's all telling, telling, telling. And you don’t have any dialogue.
Can you show me how to do it, Mr. Butt?
I just happen to have an example I did earlier.
Bink trembled when he heard the Giant's stomach rumble through the snow-covered forest. The fairy cowered behind a bush. Goosebumps covered his moss green skin. His thin arms trembled. He didn't know what was worse; waiting to be eaten by the giant or having to endure the body odor of his partner, Droog. The muscular troll crouched next to him. He clutched his club and snorted. “I’m gonna love cutting that giant down to size. Now fly up there and distract him so I can whack him in the knee.”
“I just remembered I have an appointment to have my wings adjusted.”
“It's canceled,” Droog said raising his club menacingly. “Now get flapping.”
The fairy smiled weakly. “Funny thing about that flying business, I'd rather not.”
“Look here. I’m not leaving this forest until I whip that giant,” Droog said. “You either fly up there or I’ll toss you like a paper airplane.”
The fairy gulped. "Did I ever tell you I hate to fight?"
That’s it, Bonefish.
Wow! You got all of the information into the example and I could see it all happening. Just like it was a movie.
Read it aloud, Bonefish.
Bink trembled when he heard the giant’s stomach rumble. The scared, thin fairy hated to fight. He had moss green skin and wings, but was afraid to fly. Droog, a stubborn troll, loved to fight. He had big muscles and smelled bad. He snorted before he talked. He and the fairy hid from the giant in a forest. It was the middle of winter.
Pretty good, right?
Pretty bad, Bonefish. You’re telling us about the two characters not showing them in action. “The scared thin fairy hated to fight” tells us that he’s thin, scared, and hates to fight, but it doesn't show a thin fairy being scared or hating to fight. You can’t film it. You also tell us he has moss green skin and wings. You tell us he's afraid to fly. It's all telling, telling, telling. And you don’t have any dialogue.
Can you show me how to do it, Mr. Butt?
I just happen to have an example I did earlier.
Bink trembled when he heard the Giant's stomach rumble through the snow-covered forest. The fairy cowered behind a bush. Goosebumps covered his moss green skin. His thin arms trembled. He didn't know what was worse; waiting to be eaten by the giant or having to endure the body odor of his partner, Droog. The muscular troll crouched next to him. He clutched his club and snorted. “I’m gonna love cutting that giant down to size. Now fly up there and distract him so I can whack him in the knee.”
“I just remembered I have an appointment to have my wings adjusted.”
“It's canceled,” Droog said raising his club menacingly. “Now get flapping.”
The fairy smiled weakly. “Funny thing about that flying business, I'd rather not.”
“Look here. I’m not leaving this forest until I whip that giant,” Droog said. “You either fly up there or I’ll toss you like a paper airplane.”
The fairy gulped. "Did I ever tell you I hate to fight?"
That’s it, Bonefish.
Wow! You got all of the information into the example and I could see it all happening. Just like it was a movie.
Yes, a movie of the mind. Instead of telling the reader that Bink was frightened, I showed him cowering behind a bush. Instead of telling you he had moss green skin and was frightened, I showed goosebumps of fear on his moss green skin and his thin arms trembling. Those two sentences show he’s afraid, has moss green skin and is thin.
And then you showed Droog the muscular troll, crouching next to him, clutching his club. That shows he’s muscular and has a club. Two pieces of information you needed to reveal to the reader.
Then I used dialogue to show how Droog loves to fight and how Bink hates it. Droog says, “I’m gonna love cutting that giant down to size. Now fly up there and distract him so I can whack him on the knee.”
Then Bink says: “I just remembered I have an appointment to have my wings adjusted.”
I get it. What he says shows he’s scared. Dialogue reveals his personality.
Speaking of dialogue, when a character speaks, you start a new paragraph and use quotation marks around the dialogue. If his actions relate to what he is saying, you include them in the paragraph. Look at what happens in my example when I don’t separate the character’s dialogue and actions or use quotation marks:
It's canceled, Droog said raising his club menacingly. Now get flapping. The fairy smiled weakly. Funny thing about that flying business, I'd rather not. Look here. I’m not leaving this forest until I whip that giant, Droog said. You either fly up there or I’ll toss you like a paper airplane. The fairy gulped. Did I ever tell you I hate to fight?
That’s hard to follow.
Now read it the way I wrote it:
“It's canceled," Droog said raising his club menacingly. "Now get flapping."
Funny thing about that flying business, I'd rather not.”
“Look here. I’m not leaving this forest until I whip that giant,” Droog said. “You either fly up there or I’ll toss you like a paper airplane.”
The fairy gulped. "Did I ever tell you I hate to fight?"
That’s much easier to understand, Mr. Butt. It reminds me of how movie directors change shots when actors speak to each other in a movie.
Yes, and just to make sure you understand, here’s a short lesson.
And then you showed Droog the muscular troll, crouching next to him, clutching his club. That shows he’s muscular and has a club. Two pieces of information you needed to reveal to the reader.
Then I used dialogue to show how Droog loves to fight and how Bink hates it. Droog says, “I’m gonna love cutting that giant down to size. Now fly up there and distract him so I can whack him on the knee.”
Then Bink says: “I just remembered I have an appointment to have my wings adjusted.”
I get it. What he says shows he’s scared. Dialogue reveals his personality.
Speaking of dialogue, when a character speaks, you start a new paragraph and use quotation marks around the dialogue. If his actions relate to what he is saying, you include them in the paragraph. Look at what happens in my example when I don’t separate the character’s dialogue and actions or use quotation marks:
It's canceled, Droog said raising his club menacingly. Now get flapping. The fairy smiled weakly. Funny thing about that flying business, I'd rather not. Look here. I’m not leaving this forest until I whip that giant, Droog said. You either fly up there or I’ll toss you like a paper airplane. The fairy gulped. Did I ever tell you I hate to fight?
That’s hard to follow.
Now read it the way I wrote it:
“It's canceled," Droog said raising his club menacingly. "Now get flapping."
Funny thing about that flying business, I'd rather not.”
“Look here. I’m not leaving this forest until I whip that giant,” Droog said. “You either fly up there or I’ll toss you like a paper airplane.”
The fairy gulped. "Did I ever tell you I hate to fight?"
That’s much easier to understand, Mr. Butt. It reminds me of how movie directors change shots when actors speak to each other in a movie.
Yes, and just to make sure you understand, here’s a short lesson.
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Lesson Review
How did you do, Bonefish?
Here’s what I did:
The door opened with a whoosh. A fat alien came out. He wore a yellow tuxedo. He looked a lot like my Uncle Sidney. Only Uncle Sidney didn’t have blue skin. He didn’t have three eyes. And he didn’t have a tentacle sticking out of the top of his head. “Is this Moe’s Famous Hot Dog Stand?”
I shook my head. “No, this is my backyard."
“Then you’re not Moe?”
“No, my name is Connor. I don’t have a hot dog stand.” The alien scratched his head. “Darn, I must have taken a wrong turn at Venus.”
Hold it. Is Connor the alien?
No, he’s the boy.
Then why is he scratching his head and taking a wrong turn at Venus?
Oh, right. I see.
It should be:
“No, my name is Connor. I don’t have a hot dog stand.”
The alien scratched his head. “Darn, I must have taken a wrong turn at Venus.”
Correct. Now continue.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My name is Howard of the planet Feingold. I am the food critic from outer space. I write about foods from all over the universe.” “Even hot dogs?”
Stop. You have two quotations in the same paragraph. Shouldn’t that question be from Connor?
You’re right. Let me change it and go on:
“My name is Howard of the planet Feingold. I am the food critic from outer space. I write about foods from all over the universe.”
“Even hot dogs?"
“Yes, do you have one that I can eat?”
“I don’t have any hot dogs,” I said. “I have a banana. Would you like to try that?”
“Does it taste like a hot dog?”
“No, but it’s shaped like a hot dog.”
“Close enough.”
I held out the banana. He grabbed it with his tentacle and popped it into his mouth.
Very good, Bonefish. Dialogue is much easier to read when it's written in the proper format.
Easy as pie. It helps make your writing turn into a movie of the mind.
Did you know that there is another name for movies of the mind? In fancy writer talk, it’s called immediate scene. Immediate scene means you could film what is happening in the story at that moment. I call it action in the moment.
But what if you can’t film it, Mr. Butt? What if it’s something that happened in the past that the reader needs to know? What’s that called?
If you can't film it, it's called narrative summary or simply narration. It happens off screen. It's like a narrator in a movie telling you things you need to know about the story that happened in the past or are happening somewhere else.
So how do you put the two together, Mr. Butt.
Here’s what I did:
The door opened with a whoosh. A fat alien came out. He wore a yellow tuxedo. He looked a lot like my Uncle Sidney. Only Uncle Sidney didn’t have blue skin. He didn’t have three eyes. And he didn’t have a tentacle sticking out of the top of his head. “Is this Moe’s Famous Hot Dog Stand?”
I shook my head. “No, this is my backyard."
“Then you’re not Moe?”
“No, my name is Connor. I don’t have a hot dog stand.” The alien scratched his head. “Darn, I must have taken a wrong turn at Venus.”
Hold it. Is Connor the alien?
No, he’s the boy.
Then why is he scratching his head and taking a wrong turn at Venus?
Oh, right. I see.
It should be:
“No, my name is Connor. I don’t have a hot dog stand.”
The alien scratched his head. “Darn, I must have taken a wrong turn at Venus.”
Correct. Now continue.
“Who are you?” I asked.
“My name is Howard of the planet Feingold. I am the food critic from outer space. I write about foods from all over the universe.” “Even hot dogs?”
Stop. You have two quotations in the same paragraph. Shouldn’t that question be from Connor?
You’re right. Let me change it and go on:
“My name is Howard of the planet Feingold. I am the food critic from outer space. I write about foods from all over the universe.”
“Even hot dogs?"
“Yes, do you have one that I can eat?”
“I don’t have any hot dogs,” I said. “I have a banana. Would you like to try that?”
“Does it taste like a hot dog?”
“No, but it’s shaped like a hot dog.”
“Close enough.”
I held out the banana. He grabbed it with his tentacle and popped it into his mouth.
Very good, Bonefish. Dialogue is much easier to read when it's written in the proper format.
Easy as pie. It helps make your writing turn into a movie of the mind.
Did you know that there is another name for movies of the mind? In fancy writer talk, it’s called immediate scene. Immediate scene means you could film what is happening in the story at that moment. I call it action in the moment.
But what if you can’t film it, Mr. Butt? What if it’s something that happened in the past that the reader needs to know? What’s that called?
If you can't film it, it's called narrative summary or simply narration. It happens off screen. It's like a narrator in a movie telling you things you need to know about the story that happened in the past or are happening somewhere else.
So how do you put the two together, Mr. Butt.
Here’s an example of immediate scene or action in the moment coupled with narrative summary or narration:
Oscar stared at the spinach on his plate. He stuck out his tongue and muttered, “Blegh.” When he was a little boy, his mother made him eat the loathsome vegetable every day. She used to say it would make him strong like Popeye, this squinting cartoon sailor he watched on television.
So, which one is action and which one is narration?
“Oscar stared at the spinach on his plate. He stuck out his tongue and muttered, “Blegh.” is immediate scene because you could film it happening right then. It’s action. He’s staring at the spinach. He’s sticking out his tongue. But the part when he was a little boy is narrative summary because it happened in the past and you can't film it happening right then.
I get it.
Just remember that most of your story should be immediate scene or action in the moment. You should be able to film it happening at that moment. Use narrative summary only when the reader needs to know something that has happened in the past or off screen.
So write most of your story showing your characters in action that you could film. Make a movie of the mind.
Well put, Bonefish. Making movies of the mind is Scary Good Writing.
And Scary Good Writing keeps a reader reading.
Oscar stared at the spinach on his plate. He stuck out his tongue and muttered, “Blegh.” When he was a little boy, his mother made him eat the loathsome vegetable every day. She used to say it would make him strong like Popeye, this squinting cartoon sailor he watched on television.
So, which one is action and which one is narration?
“Oscar stared at the spinach on his plate. He stuck out his tongue and muttered, “Blegh.” is immediate scene because you could film it happening right then. It’s action. He’s staring at the spinach. He’s sticking out his tongue. But the part when he was a little boy is narrative summary because it happened in the past and you can't film it happening right then.
I get it.
Just remember that most of your story should be immediate scene or action in the moment. You should be able to film it happening at that moment. Use narrative summary only when the reader needs to know something that has happened in the past or off screen.
So write most of your story showing your characters in action that you could film. Make a movie of the mind.
Well put, Bonefish. Making movies of the mind is Scary Good Writing.
And Scary Good Writing keeps a reader reading.
I have nothing to say.
