Show, Don't Tell (And Other Advice That Sounds Easier Than It Is)
What does “show, don’t tell” actually mean, and how can you recognize telling in your own writing? This blog uses practical examples to explore how stronger verbs, action, atmosphere, symbolism, and cause and effect can create more immersive fiction—plus when telling may serve your story better.
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By now, I'm sure you've heard the dreaded "show, don't tell" advice. For some fledgling writers, we know that's resulted in a lot of head-scratching. Maybe some cursing under your breath. And even more, "how do I know if I'm telling and not showing?"
Oh, we're so glad you asked. Let's dive in while the coffee is still pumping through my veins.
First, let's dive into why it's so important to avoid "telling." We want the reader to connect with your story. In order to do that, we need to trust them to interpret your words, to absorb the emotional implications and live inside the world alongside your characters. For a lot of authors, this may feel intimidating—after all, you want your story to be perceived a certain way. That's natural.
But here's the thing: art is subjective.
You can say that your character has crimson eyes and raven-black hair as much as you want. A reader may still imagine them with purple skin and gray eyes.
All you can do is trust that your reader will absorb your words and have a meaningful experience alongside your story.
So, let's talk about how we show.
Avoid Naming Emotions
Emotions are nuanced. We all know this. We've all experienced a range, often several at once. But naming an emotion can water down the impact of a scene.
For this example, I'm going to call back to Safiya and Ravya—my two heroines from my fictitious WIP from this month's masterclass.
Telling Example: Safiya slammed the book closed angrily.
Showing Example: Safiya slammed the book closed with enough force to shake the table and cause the candle to gutter.
I don't know. Felt pretty pissed to me! But in all sincerity, the first example felt flat, right? Admittedly, it's out of context, but the named feeling felt like a work-note. Whereas the showing example put me in the moment. I felt the table shake, I saw the shadows quiver when the candlelight wavered.
Create the Atmosphere
Sometimes, it's easier to simply explain what we're meant to feel when stepping into a space or a scene. Take, for example, "the scary forest," or "a delightful sitting room." While, sure, these are valid descriptors, they don't evoke much emotion or cause any emotional resonance.
Telling Example: Ravya drew Safiya into a peaceful washroom and beckoned toward a steaming tub.
Showing Example: Ravya drew Safiya into a warm, lavender-scented washroom. Candles lined the walls and at the center sat a steaming tub.
Which description made you feel like you were there?
Hold please, I'm going to go take a bath before continuing this blog.
Metaphors, Symbolism
When used with restraint, metaphors and symbolism can carry the emotional weight of a scene without over-explaining. You don't ever have to state it directly.
Telling Example: A dagger lay unsheathed on the nightstand.
Showing Example: A naked, freshly sharpened dagger lay on the nightstand—an omen, a promise, a betrayal.
Honestly, I'm not talking myself out of writing this book. But, anyway, you get the point here. With just a little more expansion, this was no longer a comment about where an object was. Instead, it turned into something far more ominous, adding to an air of dread.
Action, Action, Action
It is far easier to avoid telling when the scene has legs. By this, I mean if the scene is progressing with action beats, we're already living inside the moment with the characters.
Sure, there are some moments when a simple "gloss over" will serve the story better. But if you're living in the moment for a while, allowing it to carry forward with action will make the scene feel more alive.
Telling Example: Ravya cleaned the blade at the wash basin and tidied the room.
Showing Example: Ravya scrubbed the blade in the wash basin, rinsing crimson from its edge. Her feet carried her forward, as if acting on their own to the linen closet, to clean sheets, to the bed, where deft fingers stripped stained bedding.
Reading this, I feel almost suspended in uncertainty or dread. I'm holding my breath, even though she's… literally just tidying a room. The mundane can be made to feel impactful if it's given the room to breathe.
Cause and Effect Is Your Friend
Allowing your readers to experience the story alongside your characters is one of the easiest and most profound ways to "show." Why? Because you're letting causation lead the narrative, and allowing the effect to iron out the emotional stakes.
Telling Example: Safiya leaned forward to better see Ravya through the crack in the door. Her foot slipped and she fell heavily into the door. Panic, white-hot, crawled up her spine and fastened around her neck like a noose.
Showing Example: Safiya leaned forward to better see Ravya through the crack in the door. Her foot slipped and she fell heavily into the door. Ravya spun in her direction, eyes gleaming wicked in the candlelight. "You shouldn't have come."
Avoid Adverbs, Verbs Are Your Good Judy
There's a lot of discourse about this in the writing community. Adverbs are perfectly valid and are great additions to prose. That said, adverbs (in our humble opinion) should be treated like "sometimes foods." And by that, we mean use them sparingly.
Don't get me wrong—I don't want you to CTRL+F your manuscript and mass-delete every -ly you find. But, I would be wary of when and where you choose to use them.
When possible, use verbs instead. The impact is usually pretty extraordinary.
Telling Example: Safiya hurriedly scrambled backward on her palms and quickly moved to the door.
Showing Example: Safiya scrambled backward on her palms and raced toward the door.
It was a minor shift, really, but the writing feels cleaner, clearer, and dare I say, more urgent.
Scenes, Not Summaries
"Now it is a strange thing, but things that are good to have and days that are good to spend are soon told about, and not much to listen to; while things that are uncomfortable, palpitating, and even gruesome, may make a good tale, and take a deal of telling anyway." — J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, Book II, Chapter 2 ("The Council of Elrond")
You know I've been itching for a reason to reference Tolkien. Come on.
But, I promise, there's a point to this quote, because in this section, I'm going to encourage you to exercise discernment. When something is uncomfortable, palpitating, or gruesome, as Tolkien says, it deserves a scene. Not the Reader's Digest version.
Telling Example: Safiya was distant after that night.
Showing Example: Ravya watched Safiya curl into herself in the days that followed. She did not reach for her, nor greet her with teeth in the morning. Instead, her color faded to gray, and the fire of her temper choked out in a plume of smoke.
That Said, There Are Always Exceptions
Not everything has to be cinematic—not everything deserves a fully fleshed-out descriptor. That would make your prose purple, which is exactly what we want to avoid.
So, here's a quick list of when it's acceptable to tell:
Time jumps or quick transitions Establishing facts or background information Scenes that don't carry a lot of emotional weight
Showing > Telling
The mark of a good story is the impact that it has on its reader. People relate most strongly to words and worlds that made them feel something. By showing them, you're allowing them to put themselves into the world—to experience everything alongside your heroes.
That's the difference between an "okay read" and a story that lives with them long after they've finished the final page.
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