 Let's talk about filtering words--what they are, and why you want to use them sparingly.
Filtering words are words that put more space between the reader and the characters in a story. Instead of directly experiencing whatever the character is experiencing, filter words move the reader back so that the character's experience is being relayed to the reader by the narrator. (Pro tip: Filter words are typically verbs revolving around the five senses and the character's thoughts and knowledge.) Why is filtering a bad thing? Well, it isn't always. Sometimes short and to the point is fine. But filter words, by putting distance between the reader and the action, make it harder for a reader to stay immersed in a story. They keep readers at arms' length, instead of creating connections. One good rule of thumb is that the more involved you want a reader to feel with a scene or character, the less filtering you should use. If you want to build drama and tension in a scene, you want the reader to feel like they're there, right alongside the main character. That means you want to replace filtering words with stronger verbs that pull the reader in to the experience. Examples of filtering verbs: to see, to hear, to feel, to touch, to smell, to taste, to know, to wonder, to realize, etc. But using sensory descriptions is good, and helps pull in readers, you might protest. And you'd be right. But you want to do it the right way, by showing what the character is experiencing. Filtering: I heard the birds chirping. Without filtering: Bird songs filled the clearing, their cheerful conversations bounding from tree to tree like an avian game of Telephone. Filtering: I smelled cinnamon rolls baking. Without filtering: The smell of warm, yeasty dough greeted me as I walked in the door, with a hint of something else...cinnamon? See how the filtering version could be me retelling the experience to someone later? Compare that with the non-filtering version, where I describe an experience as it's happening, as if you, the reader, are there with me. That's what you want your readers to feel. Give it a try in your own manuscripts, or comment below with a filtered version of a sentence and a non-filtered version if you feel like sharing!
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 One of the most common questions we get about showing after "how can I improve my Showing vs. Telling techniques" is "how can I figure out when to Show and when to Tell?"
Remember, not everything needs to be shown in a narrative. Showing creates an emotional response in the reader. Sometimes, though, it's better for the pacing to tell an event briefly instead of showing it in full detail. Here's a tip to help you decide whether showing or telling is what a situation calls for. Showing is best used when you want to evoke feelings in the reader. Telling is best used when something doesn't need to create that emotional connection. So what does that look like in a manuscript? Let's take weather as an example. Imagine it's important for the reader to know that it's raining, because it affects the characters' choices. Does the storm need to be shown or told? It depends. Does the storm have an emotional significance to the characters? Then use some telling. Is it simply a small element of the plot, without any deeper meaning? Then it can be told. The choice whether to show or to tell is two-fold. It affects both the emotional response in the reader and the pacing of the story. Too much showing can actually drag the pacing down too much. Too much telling speeds the pace, but it also makes the story feel shallower. Finding the balance between the two is important for crafting a story with good pacing and compelling characters.  A little while back, we did a general post all about the basic differences between first person point-of-view and third person point-of-view. But once you've chosen a POV for your novel, how do you use it to the fullest advantage? Here are a few things to keep in mind about first person POV as you get started:
1. The POV you choose will affect your narrator's voice. In the case of 1st POV, your main character's "voice" is the same as the narrator's voice. Everything gets filtered through them. As the main character's emotions shift in response to the story's events, so will the narration. 2. The POV you choose will affect whose side(s) of the story you can tell. When the main character is telling the story, you're presenting their version of events. Take, for example, the children's tale of the Three Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf. The pigs' version of events is different than the wolf's. There are a few clever adaptations that tell the wolf's side of events instead, and events and motives are drastically different when Big Bad is the one in charge of the narrative. 3. The POV you use will affect the overall theme and mood of your story. To use the example of the Little Pigs and the Big Bad Wolf again, think about the themes of the original story. The first two pigs are lazy and lack foresight, and almost get eaten. The third pig saves the day because he chose to work hard--and apparently knows enough about building that he can make a pretty solid house. The mood is tense, if you don't know what's going to happen, and the theme is that hard work is rewarded. Now, if the wolf were telling the story, it would have a different feeling. Some retellings have him angling for sympathy; he's just a poor, hungry wolf, following his nature, after all. Some have him arguing there's a conspiracy out to get him. Some frame the entire incident as an accident, a misunderstanding, that ended up with his good name being dragged through the mud. The wolf's story could have many different themes, but it probably isn't going to be anything like the pigs' version. So your main character is going to tell a different story than their sidekick. Their emotional arcs will be different. Whatever your character is struggling with will have a lot to do with the overall mood and theme of your story. 4. You can use POV to your advantage when you work on Showing vs Telling. This is my favorite part of POV. Personally, I imagine 1st POV as being like a magical/future tech type of contact lenses. These lenses let the reader sense everything the character is sensing, and hear their thoughts. With good contact lenses, the wearer forgets they're there, because they're unobtrusive. That's how your POV should be. Show the reader what the character is experiencing, instead of having the character recount it for the reader second-hand. For more tips on this, check out the series we did over this past summer! 5. Always remember that you can't show events your narrator doesn't know about. This is an important one. It sounds simple, but it's easy to forget. If the main character wasn't present for a conversation, they can't know about it unless someone tells them. If they're worrying about a long-lost friend, they can't say "I'd never see him again." Because the main character doesn't know that yet. Your main character can't know how someone else is feeling, unless that character demonstrates their emotions somehow. The main character can't think "John was sad because he flunked his math test" unless you've given the main character enough clues to come to that conclusion. Bottom line: if the main character has no knowledge of it, they can't narrate it. Hopefully these deep dive POV tips are helpful! A lot of them cross over to 3rd person POV also, but we'll do a separate post on some of 3rd person POV's quirks and benefits soon.  As we're wrapping up our summer workshop series on how to implement everyone's favorite writing advice (Show, don't tell), I thought it would be a good time for a companion tip:
DON'T tell, then show. We see this in many manuscripts, and it's something I catch myself doing sometimes as well, especially in earlier drafts. That's what early drafts are for, though, so it's okay--as long as you catch it later and fix it! Telling then showing can take on several different forms. One example is stating a character's emotional state and then showing it, like this: She was sad. Tears poured down her face. Do you see how stating it first minimized the emotional impact? Showing someone's feelings is almost always going to create more sympathy in the reader than straight up telling them about how the character feels. By stating it first, I lost that chance for the reader to connect with my character. Tell then show can also look like telling the reader what's causing the character to react a certain way before showing the reaction. Like this: Mary Sue looked so much like my long-lost sister, she and Jane could have been twins. She always made me think of Jane. Her hair shimmered like pollen-dusted sunflowers in the afternoon light, just like Jane's had. They both had a healthy dusting of freckles sprinkled across their cheekbones. And Mary Sue's nose crinkled up just like Jane's had when she smiled, with those two little wrinkles over the bridge like a pause symbol. I paused. Maybe Mary Sue was Jane? So in this case, I started with too big a hint at the conclusion the character was going to draw. You knew where that paragraph was going from the first sentence. And that kills any tension I might have been trying for. Just like in this next, shorter example: A black cat ran across my path. I jumped back, startled. See? You don't feel any anxiety on behalf of the startled character if you already know what's going on. In this case, the reader finds out before the character's (imaginary) brain has had a chance to process a sudden event. If I make even a simple switch here to: I jumped back, startled, as a black cat ran across my path the passage immediately has more tension. And tension is good. Telling before showing is like telling someone the punchline to a joke first. It throws off the pacing, and loses the audience's interest. It's boring. So trust your reader to be smart enough to understand your "showing" prose. They usually are. And if you're worried they won't get it, that's what beta readers, critique partners, and editors are for--helping you find the perfect balance between telling and showing. So remember: Sometimes you need to show, and sometimes you need to tell, but you almost never need to do both.  Hi! Bethany here, with a workshop on how to implement Show, Don't Tell in your world building scenes. This is tricky for a lot of writers, especially if you write any sort of speculative fiction, because you have a lot of information to get across to the reader. Finding a balance between boring info-dumps and leaving readers feeling clueless is hard, and looking at it through the lens of your characters is often key to finding that balance. Check out this scene to see what I mean. It's a pretend scene set in a world I'm writing about right now.
The door chimed as Nathan walked in. He tried not to stare at the guy behind the counter, but it was hard. (1) He was on fire. (2) Of course, he'd seen fire-elementals in passing before, but never face-to-face like this. Anyone would be unnerved, watching the way his hair burned and his eyes sparkled. (3) "Are you going to come in, or just stand there all day staring?" he asked with a smile. (4) "Uh, sure. I'm coming in," Nathan stammered. As he stepped closer, he expected to feel heat emanating from his glowing skin, but felt nothing. Surprised, he watched how the tiny flames traced down the man's arms without igniting the counter he leaned on. (5) "What can I help you with, Nathan?" He lifted the heating coil and placed it on the counter. It wasn't too heavy, but after carrying it around town for half an hour, his arms were tired. (6) "Can you fix this?" he asked, crossing his fingers. (7) So this is a chunk of fantasy with some world building worked in. It's not the worst info-dump, but it definitely could use some work. One thing to ask yourself when you're adding world building details and you want them to work smoothly is: Would this character actually notice this detail and make such a point of it? In this example, Nathan, the main character, is native to this fantasy world. That means he already knows that elementals exist, and he's at least somewhat familiar with what they can do. Depending on how common they are in this story, his shock in the first few lines might not be authentic. I'll let him get away with some surprise this time. But (1) could still use some work. The narrator is telling the reader exactly what Nathan is doing and thinking here; the narrator is speaking FOR Nathan at this point, instead of letting him tell his own story. I could use internal reactions or physical actions to show Nathan's surprise instead: The door chimed as Nathan walked in. His eyes were immediately drawn to the blazing light behind the counter. He squinted. His footsteps stuttered to a stop. The guy sitting in the blaze behind the counter looked up. His brilliant orange hair matched the flames that engulfed his body. Nathan cleared his throat to stop himself from pointing out the obvious. (2) Now if I've done my job right with point #1, I don't actually need the sentence, "He was on fire." That should be obvious. It's a fun sentence, short and punchy, but given the world building aspect, it probably should get cut. Nathan lives in a world with elemental magic. While seeing a fire elemental face-to-face for the first time might stun him a little, the fact that they exist should not. Chopping out that surprised reaction on Nathan's part actually adds to the world building, by showing that this magic is relatively common place. (3) This is a pretty classic case of telling instead of showing. But sometimes, telling small details is better for pacing and more effective than showing everything. So I'm going to leave the first sentence in (Of course, he'd seen fire-elementals in passing before, but never face-to-face like this.), and improve the second sentence. The man sat there, smiling, as flames licked at his hair, sending shadows whirling wildly in every direction. Nathan took a half-step back toward the door. His skin crawled, as if trying to creep away from the danger in front of him. Nathan ground his teeth. Elementals weren't dangerous, he knew that. But still, watching the man sit there, flickering like a campfire, his stomach clenched around the remains of his lunch. (4) doesn't need much work, other than the dialogue tag. It's not bad, but it can definitely be better. "Are you going to come in, or just stand there all day staring?" The fire-elemental grinned as he caught Nathan's gaze. His eyes sparkled, reflecting his aura. (5) is full of telling. I'm going to replace the filter verbs (watched, felt, expected), and show the details and the emotions attached to them, instead of just telling them. "Uh, sure. I'm coming in," he stammered. He held his breath as he came inside, letting the door close behind him. Nathan's burned hand throbbed with remembered pain as he braced himself for the fiery heat of the repair shop's interior. One tentative step forward, and then another. Nothing happened--no inferno slapping him in the face, no erupting into flames. His shoulders relaxed as he hurried the last few paces to the counter. Tiny flames danced along the elemental's arms without igniting the counter he leaned on. A small smile tugged up the corners of Nathan's lips. The elemental grinned. "So, what can I help you with today, Nathan?" (Are you curious how the elemental knows his name? And did you notice that Nathan didn't ask how the elemental knew his name? That's another world building detail. There's something unique about Nathan's appearance that means everyone recognizes him. So in this case, if I'd had the elemental ask his name, that wouldn't have made sense with my world building so far. Again, a case of thinking about who knows what already.) (6) This sentence is going to get another small upgrade. Instead of telling the reader about the weight, I'm going to use some sensory details to show it: He lifted the heating coil and placed it on the counter with a small thunk. He massaged his right arm muscles as they cramped, thankful to set down the coil at last. The thought of carrying it all the way back home again made him want to groan. Maybe he'd see if the air-elemental running the transports would give him a ride after all. This showing version is doing triple duty. First, I've added sensory detail, using touch (cramping muscles) and sound (small thunk). The more sensory details, the more immersed a reader feels in the story, and that keeps them reading longer. Second, I've given a quick peek into Nathan's character. He's thinking about how hard it will be to carry this back home, and he wants to groan. He doesn't actually do it, though, because this character is very hard on himself. He doesn't want to complain or inconvenience others, which is also shown by his reluctance to get a ride. Third, the reader knows more about travel in this world. I've established that there are other types of elementals, and that air ones are in charge of transportation. But it's worked in naturally, at a point when my character would be thinking of it, so the world building should feel more organic. (7) This one isn't a showing vs telling problem as much as it is a world building problem. In the original, I had Nathan cross his fingers behind his back. It shows he's feeling nervous, wishing for some good luck, right? But the problem is that this story is set on a different world, with different customs, magic, and religions than our world has. So having him cross his fingers as a gesture here doesn't really fit in this world. Think about things like this when you're world building. Now to put it all together: The door chimed as Nathan walked in. His eyes were immediately drawn to the blazing light behind the counter. He squinted. His footsteps stuttered to a stop. The guy sitting in the blaze behind the counter looked up. His brilliant orange hair matched the flames that engulfed his body. Nathan cleared his throat to stop himself from pointing out the obvious. The man sat there, smiling, as flames licked at his hair, sending shadows whirling wildly in every direction. Nathan took a half-step back toward the door. His skin crawled, as if trying to creep away from the danger in front of him. Nathan ground his teeth. Elementals weren't dangerous, he knew that. But still, watching the man sit there, flickering like a campfire, his stomach clenched around the remains of his lunch. "Are you going to come in, or just stand there all day staring?" The fire-elemental grinned as he caught Nathan's gaze. His eyes sparkled, reflecting his aura. "Uh, sure. I'm coming in," he stammered. He held his breath as he came inside, letting the door close behind him. Nathan's burned hand throbbed with remembered pain as he braced himself for the fiery heat of the repair shop's interior. One tentative step forward, and then another. Nothing happened--no inferno slapping him in the face, no erupting into flames. His shoulders relaxed as he hurried the last few paces to the counter. Tiny flames danced along the elemental's arms without igniting the counter he leaned on. A small smile tugged up the corners of Nathan's lips. The elemental grinned. "So, what can I help you with today, Nathan?" He lifted the heating coil and placed it on the counter with a small thunk. "Can you fix this?" he asked. He massaged his right arm muscles as they cramped, thankful to set down the coil at last. The thought of carrying it all the way back home again made him want to groan. Maybe he'd see if the air-elemental running the transports would give him a ride after all. Hopefully this workshop has been helpful! Remember, you can use showing techniques to sneak in your world building, making it more subtle and enjoyable for your readers! Let us know what you think in the comments.  It's time for our penultimate Show Don't Tell Workshop, and Kate is back with us today to take a look at blending in backstory. "Another double vodka, Mel?" I smiled, knowing exactly why he wanted to get me another drink. Idiot. Last year, at the office Christmas party, I got drunk - blotto drunk. That's when I was going through my rock-bottom period, what with Mum being ill, Dad being AWOL, and my eldest son overseas, and the party - and its open bar - allowed me the opportunity to forget everything and have some f**ing fun. I've never been able to handle my booze and that night at the party had been no exception. I'd started on the welcome glass of champagne, but people just kept topping up my glass - something of which I was later informed by Becky. I'd made such a prat of myself: I tried it on with at least four of my colleagues, nearly knocked myself out pole-dancing, vomited down my WHITE dress, and passed out in the middle of the dancefloor - and that's the short version. I'd been the laughing stock for months afterwards, but also the best entertainment the entire office could have asked for. I internally sighed and shook my head. "No thanks, Tim. I'm good." Now let's analyse this... In truth, there's not much wrong with the actual writing in this example. It's got voice, humorous detail, and really gives us a fair amount of info about the main character. If this is the kind of style your book takes, with the character often diverting from the action to fill the reader in on past moments through lengthy internal monologues that have great humor and relevance, then I would say leave as is. It works just fine. In fact, lots of you might just prefer it to the revised version below! But, we can look at ways in which all this backstory could be blended in more subtly, so not compromising on reader immersion. A few of the details could be removed and perhaps blended in at a later date, or earlier depending on where in the novel this scene takes place, and others could be hinted at whilst we see the character in more detail and adding in some sensory extras. There's no one way to do it when it comes to reducing backstory and information dumping. My advice to clients is, as they revise, to always highlight dialogue, action, and scene setting, and where you haven't highlighted much at all you are likely to find interior monologues and back story that might just benefit from being broken up. Here's an example of how this could be written, with the backstory in red and weaved in to the action. "Another double vodka, Mel?" I smiled, leaning my elbows on the beer-soaked bar and knowing exactly why he wanted to get me another drink. Idiot. With the forced grin fixed firmly on my face, I fought back the images of my vomit-soaked WHITE dress, the pole-dancing induced lump on my forehead, and the blurred sea of legs circling me as I collapsed on the dancefloor, and met Tim's eyes, the tinsel dangling from his Santa hat like massive glittering eyebrows. The droning, new-fangled dance beat pounded through my head, reminding me of how old I was, and how another Christmas party like that disaster last year was not going to be repeated. I was no longer at rock bottom after all. And, there was no doubt he was still fuming about why he hadn't been one of the four I'd tried it on with. Jealous idiot. Becky snickered behind me, and my smile grew even wider. I internally sighed and shook my head. "Thanks, Tim, but I'll buy my own drinks this year." So, what you have here is a lot of the same information, the odd detail left out that might not be essential right now, but perhaps a few more visuals, more setting thrown in among the back story, which itself is passed on to the reader more as momentary memories as opposed to a longer recount of the event. The voice is still there but the subtlety is magnified, and still the same information can easily be gleaned about what went down at that Christmas party. Was that helpful? Let us know in the comments!
 Please welcome back Rebecca to the blog today, with another of her fantastic workshops. Pay attention at the back! This week’s Show Don’t Tell workshop focuses on telling the reader what is going on in the main character’s head, rather than showing the reader and allowing her to form her own opinions, as well as make her own conclusions about what the author is trying to convey. Here is the Telling scene: Jenna didn’t understand her friends’ actions. She realized they meant well, but she wondered what made them come to that conclusion. She had to know. She talked to them and learned that they believed she was lonely and needed a boyfriend. But she couldn’t imagine ever dating again. Not after what happened with the last one. She wondered how she could ever replace the greatest boyfriend in the world. Now let's analyse this... Not only is this telling, it is vague and does not invite the reader to experience Jenna’s emotions. Where does this take place? Where are the other characters? Who are the other characters? What did her friends do? Why isn’t there any dialogue? And those are just the start of questions that need to be answered. While it is okay to keep something from your readers, they will demand that some of these story questions be addressed. So let’s break this scene down and see where the writing went wrong.
Ready to put it all together and see how following the Show Don’t Tell guidelines creates a strong emotional scene for the reader to experience? Standing in the hallway outside her math class, Jenna scratched her head as Matthew Black strutted over to his buddies. He glanced over his shoulder, winked, and mouthed, “Call me.” Across the corridor, Mallory and Aspen giggled and grinned from the safety of their lockers. Jenna’s hands balled into fists and she glared. Best friends or not, they had no right. How could they tell Matthew she liked him? Even if she did, that was before … before … Jenna swiped a tear from her cheek. Slamming her hands onto her hips, she marched over to them. “How could you?” Mallory averted her gaze to her neon orange running shoes, and Aspen rifled through papers in her locker. Jenna widened her stance. “Don’t ignore me. You owe me an explanation.” They glanced at each other, their smiles replaced with downward glances and fidgeting hands. “We just thought …” Mallory cleared her throat. Aspen stepped forward. “We thought it was time for you to start dating again. You never do anything fun.” Mallory pushed between us. “You never smile.” She shuffled her feet. “You seem lonely.” Jenna’s jaw dropped. “Date again?” How could they even propose such a thing? She steeled her chin. “Jared’s my boyfriend—the kindest, funniest, sweetest boy in the”—her voice cracked—“that doesn’t change just because he died.” Tears flooded Jenna’s cheeks. Mallory and Aspen huddled around her, hugging and crying with her. How do you replace the greatest boyfriend in the world? Was that helpful? Let us know in the comments!
 Please welcome Kate back to the blog today, with another example of switching telling to showing. Mr. Smith was a great big fat man (1) who enjoyed watching baking shows on TV. It was Monday and while watching The Great British Bake Off (2) , he had a big slice of chocolate fudge cake with chocolate ganache topping on his plate on his lap (3). He had decided to go on a diet last week that started today (4) and that meant watching five minutes of his show then eating a mouthful (5). The show had only been on ten minutes and he'd already eaten over half the cake. His mouthfuls were large. (6) Now let's analyse this... (1) Mr. Smith was a great big fat man. This sentence TELLS us Mr. Smith was fat using the filter verb "to be", and our imagination could create any image we want. Nothing wrong with this, but it sure would be stronger if we could SEE Mr. Smith in a little more DETAIL. Maybe: "The armchair creaked, the springs protesting loudly, as Mr. Smith squished his bulbous frame between the sides and flopped onto the cushion, huffing and puffing after his short walk from the kitchen." (2) who enjoyed watching baking shows on TV. It was Monday and while watching The Great British Bake Off This is great information about Mr. Smith's character and it definitely fits with the rest of the paragraph. Though it is TELLING us what he likes, what day it is, and what he's watching now, rather than us SEEING this enjoyment and information in action. Maybe: "After he'd caught his breath, he grabbed the TV remote from the arm of the chair and pressed the ON button with his pinkie - the only finger small enough not to hit all the other buttons at the same time. He rubbed his palms together and smiled. The best thing about Mondays was the back-to-back reruns of The Great British Bake Off." (3) he had a big slice of chocolate fudge cake with chocolate ganache topping on his plate on his lap. This one gives the reader a great visual, but in itself it's a little boring and if BLENDED with some movement and again even letting us SEE this cake through the eyes of Mr. Smith, we get to step inside the scene just a little more. Maybe: "From the other arm of the chair, Mr. Smith lifted the plate of food waiting patiently for him onto his lap. His eyes widened at the deliciousness, a trickle of adrenaline squeezing through his strained muscles. A chunk of sticky chocolate fudge cake with glittering chocolate ganache topping. Mrs. James upstairs was a genius baker - and thank goodness she delivered." (4) He had decided to go on a diet last week that started today "he decided" is another filter verb. And as we've said before, these are perfectly okay to use, but better if only every now and then and replaced with some TELLING where possible. If you bring the PERSPECTIVE a little close to Mr. Smith, we could maybe hear his thoughts and feelings on his decision, which would in turn build even more of allowing the reader to engage with the character. Maybe: "He gripped his spoon, salivating, and slid it through the cake. Chocolatey aromas drifted up from the morsel balancing on the too-small spoon. No. No. He placed the bite back down on the plate and forced his lips together. He'd promised Rosa last week he would do it, and if losing weight would win her heart, his diet had to start today. No backing out now." (5) and that meant watching five minutes of his show then eating a mouthful So, similar to the advice under (4), it would be much more ENGAGING for a reader to hop inside Mr. Smith's head and perhaps HEAR him deciding on this plan. We'd learn a lot more about him this way. Maybe: "Right. Slow at first - that was Rosa's advice. Slow...slow...? What was a slow diet? Maybe, slow meant still eating the same foods but chewing slower? Or maybe cutting back a little every day? Hmm. Mr. Smith drummed his fingers as best he could on his leg. Okay. He'd start by watching five minutes of his show then eat a mouthful, then another five minutes and then a mouthful. And so on. He smiled. Excellent." (6) The show had only been on ten minutes and he'd already eaten over half the cake. His mouthfuls were large. This is a great, humorous ending and gives a great visual and tone to the scene. It definitely works as it is, but maybe by SHOWING Mr. Smith, injecting some of his VOICE and EMOTION, and more VISUALS of the TV show perhaps as well, it would wrap it up even better. Maybe: "Ten minutes later, as the contestants put the finishing touches to their signature meringue dishes - Mr. Smith loved meringues - he picked up his spoon ready to take his third mouthful. As the spoon chinked against the china, he peered down. "Only half left?" How had this happened? Okay, he liked a largish mouthful, but how had he consumed half his cake in only two?" And now let's put it all together... The armchair creaked, the springs protesting loudly, as Mr. Smith squished his bulbous frame between the sides and flopped onto the cushion, huffing and puffing after his short walk from the kitchen. After he'd caught his breath, he grabbed the TV remote from the arm of the chair and pressed the ON button with his pinkie - the only finger small enough not to hit all the other buttons at the same time. He rubbed his palms together and smiled. The best thing about Mondays was the back-to-back reruns of The Great British Bake Off. From the other arm of the chair, Mr. Smith lifted the plate of food waiting patiently for him onto his lap. His eyes widened at the deliciousness, a trickle of adrenaline squeezing through his strained muscles. A chunk of sticky chocolate fudge cake with glittering chocolate ganache topping. Mrs. James upstairs was a genius baker - and thank goodness she delivered. He gripped his spoon, salivating, and slid it through the cake. Chocolatey aromas drifted up from the morsel balancing on the too-small spoon. No. No. He placed the bite back down on the plate and forced his lips together. He'd promised Rosa last week he would do it, and if losing weight would win her heart, his diet had to start today. No backing out now. Right. Slow at first - that was Rosa's advice. Slow...slow...? What was a slow diet? Maybe, slow meant still eating the same foods but chewing slower? Or maybe cutting back a little every day? Hmm. Mr. Smith drummed his fingers as best he could on his leg. Okay. He'd start by watching five minutes of his show then eat a mouthful, then another five minutes and then a mouthful. And so on. He smiled. Excellent. Ten minutes later, as the contestants put the finishing touches to their signature meringue dishes - Mr. Smith loved meringues - he picked up his spoon ready to take his third mouthful. As the spoon chinked against the china, he peered down. "Only half left?!" How had this happened? Okay, he liked a largish mouthful, but how had he consumed half his cake in only two? Was that helpful? Let us know in the comments!
 Please welcome Rebecca to the blog today, with her second brilliant Show Don't Tell workshop. Brielle looked in the window (1) with excitement (2). She saw the most beautiful gown (3) in the world, the perfect one for senior prom. Even though she felt sad (4) that Cayden hadn’t asked her, that no one had asked her, she made up her mind to go anyway (5). And this dress would make him jealous (6)—sorry he asked Mia Keller with the big boobs, instead. Now let's analyse this... (1) Looked in the window While there’s nothing wrong with using “looked,” and it is an active verb, there are stronger verbs/synonyms of looked that can create a more vivid image. Peered, stared, gawked, etc. (2) With excitement This is classic TELLING. Don’t tell the reader how she feels, SHOW them in her actions. She could bounce up and down or chew her lip, etc. (3) She saw the most beautiful gown Don’t TELL the reader what she saw, omit the “she saw” and just SHOW us what’s staring back at her. And this is a great place to add detail to give the reader a clear image of the dress she’s admiring. (4) She felt sad This is an opportunity lost for readers to CONNECT and BOND with the character, to EXPERIENCE her pain over not being asked to prom. If readers don’t connect, they won’t feel invested in the story, in the character, and might stop reading. So give them all the feels. SHOW them her sadness and disappointment; have her swipe away a tear, swallow a lump down her throat, have her chest constrict. (5) She made up her mind to go anyway The phrase “she made up her mind” TELLS the reader the process instead of SHOWING them. Have her check her purse for money, walk away from the store and return, pace. SHOW the reader her apprehension and then the decision as she marches into the store. (6) And this dress would make him jealous The first thing I do is question “why?” Why would this dress make Cayden jealous? The reader has no idea what this dress looks like, or more importantly, what it looks like on Brielle. Does it transform a duck into a swan? Does she go from plain to sexy? Again, SHOW the reader these important details so they can create a clear image of this important scene, rooting for Brielle against all the unfairness that is high school. Taking all of the above suggestions, this is a new-and-improved scene of Brielle’s quest for a prom gown. And yes, showing a reader does take more time, effort, and add significantly to the word count, but the results are worth it. With her forehead pressed against glass, Brielle peered into the storefront window, her eyes locking on a satin, turquoise gown with a form-fitting bodice, plunging neck line, spaghetti straps, and an ankle length skirt with a slit up the leg, all the way to the thigh. Her chest pounded. She imagined herself in the gown, slow dancing with Cayden at their senior prom. Like that would ever happen. He didn’t even know she existed. Brielle sighed. The dress was perfect. The perfect color for her olive skin. The perfect shape for her curves. But attending prom without a date was not the way she envisioned the important rite of passage. But no one asked her. Just like last year. Just like the year before. She swiped at a tear. Should she go just to say she went? She opened her purse and checked the wallet. Three hundred-dollar bills smiled back. Biting her lip, she paced in front of the store, paused at the double glass doors, and turned on her heels, heading back to her car. Three hundred dollars for a dress she’d only wear once? Three hundred dollars for her pride? Hell yes. Marching back to the store, she flung open both doors. With her head held high, she strutted to the gown and bee-lined for the dressing room. Slipping the dress over her bra and underwear, she gasped at her reflection in the mirror. No longer plain and insecure, she’d transformed into a sexy, confidant woman. She extended her long, tanned leg out the slit and grinned. Cayden may have asked Mia Keller with the big boobs, but once he got a look at Brielle in that dress, he, and all the other boys who didn’t ask her, would be sorry. Eat your heart out, Cayden. Brielle paid for the dress and wore it out of the store. Was that helpful? Let us know in the comments!
 Today, we welcome Kate back to the blog with another detailed look at Show Don't Tell. And today, it's building on from last week's workshop, focusing a little more on adding that finer detail, voice, and characterization throughout. I walked into the kitchen where my parents were waiting for me (1), their expressions filled with anger (2). I had messed up royally and I knew I was in trouble. But whatever. There were much bigger things going on in my life so this telling off wasn’t going to get me down. (3) “Sit down,” Mom said (7) and pointed to the bar stool at the island. “And don’t say a word,” Dad added. I sat down, my lips sealed as instructed. Dad was dressed in his gray suit and yellow tie, obviously ready for work, and Mom was wearing her fluffy, pink dressing gown (4). She was gripping a mug so hard I could see that her knuckles had turned white and I wondered if the mug might break. This was going to be bad. “Where were you last night, Joanne?” Dad asked, tapping the granite counter top. “Out with friends,” I replied, not looking at him. “Which friends?” Mom asked. “Tell us now so your punishment doesn’t get any worse,” Dad said. I sighed and replied, “Sam,” and braced myself for the shouts (5). “SAM!” Mom screamed. “Sam!” Dad cried, “She was out with that godforsaken boy all night! I knew it!” By this point, I’d forgotten about the phone call I was waiting for from Tammy about the party. I was focused on getting through the next few minutes (6). Now let's analyse this... (1) I walked into the kitchen where my parents were waiting for me Here we’re being TOLD that her parents are waiting for her and where, rather than us finding out naturally, maybe SEEING them waiting as Joanne enters the kitchen. This is a great opportunity to build tension and emotion by SHOWING us some finer details, bringing the perspective closer, adding direct thought so we can HEAR the character’s voice better, and so on. Maybe: One more deep breath. I couldn’t put this off any longer. Head lowered, I shuffled into the kitchen, a brief glance up so I could prepare for what awaited. Oh heck, this is bad. They both stood, backs stiff, arms frozen, and eyes already drilling into my soul. If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone had just turned my kitchen into a show room, my parents the mannequins surrounded by gleaming, sparkling unused appliances. Yes, this is a lot more words to pass on something so simple, but what we get is a lot more style and tone, tension and voice, atmosphere and personality. Don’t be afraid to use more words to show something. (2) their expressions filled with anger We see this kind of thing a lot. We’re being TOLD that her parents are angry but we don’t really get to FEEL this anger or SEE what her parents look like when they’re angry. You could just use the example above in point 1 as this definitely SHOWS their anger in their body language and the character’s perception of them, or you could carry this on and SHOW her parents in a little more detail, again building on the character’s voice. Maybe: I stepped into the vacuum of weighted silence. A small giggle pressed at the back of my throat at Mom’s flared nostrils and I guessed if I listened hard enough, I might have been able to hear the raging, panting bull waiting to be released inside her. (3) I had messed up royally and I knew I was in trouble. But whatever. There were much bigger things going on in my life so this telling off wasn’t going to get me down. Because we’ve already revised the first sentence into many much longer ones that are packed with SHOWING, these sentences could work just fine. Always remember that the odd bit of telling and filter verb usage is perfectly okay. If you wanted to keep on revising, then a few tweaks would elevate this even more, getting rid of “I knew” and “there were” (filter verbs). Maybe: I’d messed up royally and my name was written all over this telling off. But whatever. Bigger things mangled my life right now so Mom and Dad could bring it on. (4) Dad was dressed in his gray suit and yellow tie, obviously ready for work, and Mom was wearing her fluffy, pink dressing gown. Here we’re being TOLD what Mom and Dad are wearing but it would be much stronger to SEE this blended into action and dialogue, and again in the character’s VOICE. At the moment it’s a bit boring. Maybe: They drew out the silence a little longer and, fighting hard not to make eye contact, I watched their reflections in the ultra shiny granite countertop. Dad removed his glasses, hooking them in the top pocket of his suit jacket and sliding his fingers down his silky yellow tie—I hated that tie. Mom, on the other hand, still hadn’t moved. The only things that clued me in to her being alive were those white knuckles squeezing her mug. Another giggle tickled as I imagined it bursting, coffee splattering her fluffy pink dressing gown. (5) braced myself for the shouts Rather than TELLING the reader that the character has braced themselves, SHOWING this in specific body language would be much stronger. Maybe: I screwed up my face and clenched my fists in my lap. Let the ride commence. (6) By this point, I’d forgotten about the phone call I was waiting for from Tammy about the party. I was focused on getting through the next few minutes. Informing the reader of what a character has forgotten is a huge red flag of TELLING and removes the reader instantly from the action. Instead, keep us in the moment, SHOWING us exactly what is happening and what’s keeping the character occupied, or even take it one step further and SHOW the character remembering what they’d forgotten. Maybe: I sat quietly, letting my parents do their thing, allowing the shouts and screams and attacks on Sam to slide right by. Mom was in her element, and I’d become pretty nifty at blocking out her screeching. Besides, it had been one heck of a night and I had zero regrets. (7) Dialogue and Dialogue Tags Overall, the dialogue itself is okay in this passage, but what could be revised and more SHOWING added is the removal of some dialogue tags--Dad asked, I replied, Mom screamed, Dad added, etc. There are a lot and switching out a couple with an action tag would allow the reader to SEE more and FEEL and HEAR the emotions in the spoken words. Maybe instead of… “Sit down,” Mom said and pointed to the bar stool at the island. Try… “Sit down.” Mom thrust a French manicure-tipped finger at the island bar stool. Maybe instead of… “Where were you last night, Joanne?” Dad asked, tapping the granite counter top. Try… Dad leaned forward, one finger tap tap tapping a regular rhythm. “Where were you last night, Joanne?” Maybe instead of… “SAM!” Mom screamed. “Sam!” Try… “SAM!” Mom shoved her mug forward, coffee sploshing over the rim, and flung her arms in the air. “Sam!” I had no doubt the neighbors could hear her shrill voice. These are examples, of course, and the fun thing about this type of revision is playing around with ideas. Think about placing your characters, moving them around, reflecting their emotions and the words they speak through their body language and expressions. Don’t forget, however, to not go overboard with adding too many action tags, giving a blow-by-blow account of everyone’s movements. That can get pretty boring! And now let's put it all together... One more deep breath. I couldn’t put this off any longer. Head lowered, I shuffled into the kitchen, a brief glance up so I could prepare for what awaited. Oh heck, this is bad. They both stood, backs stiff, arms frozen, and eyes already drilling into my soul. If I didn’t know better, I’d say someone had just turned my kitchen into a show room, my parents the mannequins surrounded by gleaming, sparkling unused appliances. I stepped into the vacuum of weighted silence. A small giggle pressed at the back of my throat at Mom’s flared nostrils and I guessed if I listened hard enough, I might have been able to hear the raging, panting bull waiting to be released inside her. I’d messed up royally and my name was written all over this telling off. But whatever. Bigger things mangled my life right now so Mom and Dad could bring it on. “Sit down.” Mom thrust a French manicure-tipped finger at the island bar stool. “And don’t say a word,” Dad added. I sat down, my lips sealed as instructed. They drew out the silence a little longer and, fighting hard not to make eye contact, I watched their reflections in the ultra shiny granite countertop. Dad removed his glasses, hooking them in the top pocket of his suit jacket and sliding his fingers down his silky yellow tie—I hated that tie. Mom, on the other hand, still hadn’t moved. The only things that clued me in to her being alive were those white knuckles squeezing her mug. Another giggle tickled as I imagined it bursting, coffee splattering her fluffy pink dressing gown. Dad leaned forward, one finger tap tap tapping a regular rhythm. “Where were you last night, Joanne?” “Out with friends.” “Which friends?” Mom asked. “Tell us now so your punishment doesn’t get any worse,” Dad said. I screwed up my face and clenched my fists in my lap. “Sam.” Let the ride commence. “SAM!” Mom shoved her mug forward, coffee sploshing over the rim, and flung her arms in the air. “Sam!” I had no doubt the neighbors could hear her shrill voice. “She was out with that godforsaken boy all night! I knew it!” I sat quietly, letting my parents do their thing, allowing the shouts and screams and attacks on Sam to slide right by. Mom was in her element, and I’d become pretty nifty at blocking out her screeching. Besides, it had been one heck of a night and I had zero regrets. Was that helpful? Let us know in the comments! |
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