SHOW DON'T TELL WORKSHOP 2!

Today, we welcome Kate to the blog with another detailed look at Show Don't Tell. 
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A knock sounded on the door. (1) I looked up at the old, wooden rectangle with its peeling white paint and held my breath. (2) I knew who it was before the door opened (3) but I felt panicked anyway. (4) The door opened, and I watched as Aunt Pauline walked in. (5) She was wearing a long flowing summer dress, which was what she always wore when she beat me, and her hair was shiny, gray and long, all the way down her back to her waist. (6) She looked fierce as she strode toward where I was sitting on the bed. (7) I wanted to get up and run fast, away from her and all the horrible things she did to me, but I was stuck. (8) 

Aunt Pauline gave me an angry look that scared me, and a shiver ran down my spine. I was so frightened and I felt my hands starting to shake. (9) But I knew I had to be brave and deal with it (10) if I wanted to go through with the escape plan later that I made with my best friend Jarrod to meet by our tree. (11)  

Now let's analyse this... 

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(1) A knock sounded at the door

The reader is being TOLD that there's a knock at the door, which is great as this definitely attempts to engage their hearing. But, it would be so much stronger if they were able to actually HEAR the knock. Something like: Tap. Tap. Tap. By writing this in italics, you're letting the reader hear the taps at the same time as the character. 


(2) I looked up at the old, wooden rectangle with its peeling white paint and I held my breath. 

Here the reader is being TOLD what they can see but more emotional depth could be SHOWN here to create tension, letting the reader SHARE the character's fear. If you simply SHOW what the reader can see in this moment the experience becomes far more engaging. Also, doors are usually rectangle in shape so maybe show some finer detail, something that might reflect how the character is feeling as well. Something like: I held my breath, my eyes traveling to the chipped, wood-paneled door, peeling white paint clinging on for its life, or maybe making its escape - I could relate to both.


(3) I knew who it was before the door opened

To know is considered a filter verb and TELLING, and from time to time it's perfectly okay to use them. In this instance, it could indeed work, but an alternative way to SHOW and make this stronger, might be to let the reader access the character's thoughts. Something like: She was here. She'd found me. Or a direct thought in italics like: She's here. She's found me. 


(4) but I felt panicked anyway.

To feel is another filter verb as you're simply TELLING the reader how the character is feeling. It's so much stronger to let the reader FEEL the emotion and SEE the character's physical reaction. Something like: I squeezed fistfuls of the bed sheet, my heart kicking like a spooked horse, its hooves so loud it was all I could hear.  


(5) The door opened, and I watched as Aunt Pauline walked in.

This is similar to (2) in that the reader is being TOLD how the character is watching the action, creating a certain distance. It's so much stronger to SHOW with strong verbs, again raising the tension. Something like: The door creaked, opening slowly, gradually, the outline of Aunt Pauline darkening my room. Silent, her toes pointed like a ballerina, she slid into my room. 


(6) She was wearing a long flowing summer dress, which was what she always wore when she beat me, and her hair was shiny, gray and long, all the way down her back to her waist.

The dreaded "was" has infested this sentence making it really quite boring. Rather than TELL the reader what Aunt Pauline looks like, it would be so much more exciting and interesting to SEE her appearance through her movements. Something like: The hem of her summer dress, the dress she wore only for my turn, the one that infected my nightmares, caressed her manicured feet as she moved, swishing against her legs. And her gray streaked hair, loose, swinging around her waist, glistened in the moonlight seeping through my curtains. 


(7) She looked fierce as she strode toward where I was sitting on the bed. 

Here, you're actually TELLING the reader quite a lot - what Aunt Pauline looks like, where she's going and where the POV character is. This could all be blended in more subtly by including a lot of finer details and by engaging the senses. Something like: Aunt Pauline glided toward my bed, step by step, until her cold bare toes pressed against mine. She loomed over me, her slight frame suddenly seven foot tall and two foot wide. 


(8) I wanted to get up and run fast, away from her and all the horrible things she did to me, but I was stuck. 

Again you're TELLING the reader what the character wants rather than letting them SHARE this need and FEEL and SEE it in the character's body language, at the same time only hinting at what horrible things Aunt Pauline did rather than telling us everything. Something like: My feet, my body, every bruise and healed bone, longed to run. Fast, away, anywhere but beside this witch and her evil hands. But as always paralysis claimed me. 


(9) Aunt Pauline gave me an angry look that scared me, and a shiver ran down my spine. I was so frightened and felt my hands starting to shake. 

A lot of TELLING in this short sentence, such as Aunt Pauline's look being an angry one and that the POV character is scared. And although that ending does SHOW us some physical reactions, one is a little overused and cliche nowadays. It would be so much more engaging if the reader could SEE the anger and FEEL and SHARE the fear, maybe HEAR the character's thoughts. Something like: Her face lowered until her breath kissed my nose, and Aunt Pauline's lip curled into a snarl, teeth bared. A scream blocked my airways, sinking into my chest and stomach. I had to stay calm, not move, not utter a sound. But my hands betrayed me, trembling, sliding backwards. 


(10) But I knew I had to be brave and deal with it 

To know is another filter verb which is a TELLING red flag and can easily be removed by allowing the reader to HEAR the character's thoughts. Something like: Come on, Sally. Come on. I urged my mind to take me away, focus on a better place. A technique that allowed me to leave the present. 

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(11) if I wanted to go through with the escape plan later that I made with my best friend Jarrod to meet by our tree. 

This final sentence TELLS the reader everything, perhaps too much, which isn't necessarily wrong because it certainly does SHOW that this character has hatched a plan to escape her abuser, a little about her personality. But, there is a lot of room where you could be more subtle and add some voice. Something like: But tonight things were different. Tonight would be the last time I would let Aunt Pauline come near me. Jarrod, my beautiful Jarrod, would be waiting for me by our tree. My freedom called to me.  

And now let's put it all together...
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​Tap. Tap. Tap. 
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I held my breath, my eyes traveling to the chipped, wood-paneled door, peeling white paint clinging on for its life, or maybe making its escape - I could relate to both.

She's here. She's found me. I squeezed fistfuls of the bed sheet, my heart kicking like a spooked horse, its hooves so loud it was all I could hear.  ​

​​The door creaked, opening slowly, gradually, the outline of Aunt Pauline darkening my room. Silent, her toes pointed like a ballerina, she slid into my room. The hem of her summer dress, the dress she wore only for my turn, the one that infected my nightmares, caressed her manicured feet as she moved, swishing against her legs. And her gray streaked hair, loose, swinging around her waist, glistened in the moonlight seeping through my curtains. 
​
Aunt Pauline glided toward my bed, step by step, until her cold bare toes pressed against mine. She loomed over me, her slight frame suddenly seven foot tall and two foot wide. My feet, my body, every bruise and healed bone, longed to run. Fast, away, anywhere but beside this witch and her evil hands. But as always paralysis claimed me. Her face lowered until her breath kissed my nose, and Aunt Pauline's lip curled into a snarl, teeth bared. A scream blocked my airways, sinking into my chest and stomach. I had to stay calm, not move, not utter a sound. But my hands betrayed me, trembling, sliding backwards. 

​Come on, Sally. Come on. I urged my mind to take me away, focus on a better place. A technique that allowed me to leave the present. 

But tonight things were different. Tonight would be the last time I would let Aunt Pauline come near me. Jarrod, my beautiful Jarrod, would be waiting for me by our tree. My freedom called to me.  
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