Tell me you’re a writer without telling me you’re a writer.

Hands down the most mis-wielded piece of writing advice is “show, don’t tell.”

I could write an entire dissertation on the topic (and I probably will, if you stick around long enough), but for the sake of brevity, here is what “show, don’t tell” is NOT:

  • always using actions instead of feeling words
  • never including a character’s inner monologue
  • excessive metaphors and purple prose
  • never summarizing anything ever

What it IS:

  • letting a reader draw their own conclusions and experience their own emotions while reading instead of holding their hand and explaining what they should think and how they should feel at every turn

Practically, there are thousands of ways this can show up. “Show, don’t tell” doesn’t mean never telling anything—in fiction, every sentence is, at its core, telling a reader something—it means telling a reader something that will make them think or feel something else. It’s about adding nuance and subtext for a richer reading experience. 

Because it’s context-dependent, what counts as “telling” in one instance might be “showing” in another, and vice versa. The sentence “the dog slept” in a story about a dog taking a nap would be telling. The same sentence in a story about a human insomniac would be showing, because it adds a nuanced contrast to the human’s situation without directly telling the reader what to think or how to feel about it.

Effectively using “show, don’t tell” in your writing is a lifelong endeavor. But here’s an exercise to get started, or to just practice if you already feel like a pro.

The Exercise

You know that meme that went around social media awhile back: tell me you’re x, without telling me you’re x?

If you’re unfamiliar, a barista might post “tell me you’re a barista without telling me you’re a barista” along with a photo (or description) of a stained apron, a wildly misspelled name on a cup, a customer service smile, a cringe while going through a different drive-thru, imagined violence toward an annoying customer, a pile of laundry that smells like coffee, etc. All the trappings of being a barista without coming out and directly saying “I’m a barista.”

Believe it or not, that’s the perfect foundation for understanding “show, don’t tell.”

For this exercise, take a character you’ve created, or a particular piece of worldbuilding, and re-create this meme with words. Do it a few different ways for each person, place, or thing.

For example, if you’re trying to show things about a fantasy character, you could try “tell me she’s a faerie without telling me she’s a faerie” and list pointed ears, the inability to lie, preternatural speed, can’t touch iron, etc. Then, for the same character, try “tell me she’s a mechanic without telling me she’s a mechanic” and list grease-stained overalls, encyclopedic knowledge of cars, calloused hands, etc. Look for overlaps or contradictions in the lists (how does your fae mechanic avoid iron? does she have more customers because she’s always truthful?), then consider which of the details you’ve listed best embody your character and the themes of your story and work them into your prose where they fit.

Other thought starters: “tell me it’s a church,” “tell me that building is rundown,” “tell me he’s the chosen one,” “tell me this situation is dangerous,” “tell me these characters hate each other.” This exercise can apply to literally any aspect of any story, and as you get the hang of it, branch out into more abstract concepts: “tell me he’s sad,” “tell me she’s lonely,” “tell me the people in this world worship a vindictive god of war.” 

Remember that you can go beyond details about the immediate character (or thing). For example, “tell me this ten-year-old is sad without telling me he’s sad” could involve a well-loved toy on his dresser that’s broken, or a lost dog poster, or a room filled with shadows. The options are endless, as long as they evoke what you’re trying to get across.

The Purpose

Obviously “show, don’t tell” is more complex than just lists of details, but focusing in on the “without telling me” aspect of this exercise will get you thinking outside of the most obvious solutions for introducing or describing things.

The most important thing to remember about “show, don’t tell” is that you, the writer, are not trying to conceal everything. You’re trying to create an experience for a reader. If you tell a reader “this is scary,” they’re not going to feel scared. If you tell a reader, “here’s a scary clown,” they still won’t feel scared. If you show them a man in white face paint wielding a machete in the middle of the woods and repeatedly appearing in your main character’s life, they might start to feel scared.

The goal is to know what experience you want your reader to have, what conclusions you want them to draw, and to then show them things that will elicit that experience or give them the necessary clues to draw those conclusions, without telling them the “right” answers.

As a reader, being told what to feel and think at every given moment, even when it’s interspersed with some pretty details, makes for a boring book.

So, if you want to tell me you’re a good writer without telling me you’re a good writer, try out this exercise and work some intentional showing into your narrative. As with all writing advice, “show, don’t tell” isn’t an immutable rule to force you to add descriptions, it’s a tool for making your writing do what you want it to do.

Happy writing!

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