Writing the Perfect Scene: Show Don't Tell

In my last post I spoke about my first grimy introduction to literary criticism from other writers.  If you didn't read it (shame, shame) then you should probably go back and do that now.  Look, I'll even include a link to it (see how well I treat you?).  In short, criticism sucks, but it will make your writing better.  But that doesn't mean that everything another writer throws your way should be taken like the words of Jesus Himself (remember, there's a lot of unpublished writers who stick to the rules).

I wanted to discuss some of the rules that you're gonna hear in connection to your narrative.  Some of them may be worth paying attention to, or at least keeping in the back of your mind while you are crafting away.  Others might be outright dumb, genre specific, creative writing course style bull crap.  Okay, you're right; I shouldn't call it bull crap ... I insult the feces of the bovine brethren too much. Let's  take a look at one of the "rules" I found most helpful.

Show The Reader, Don't Tell 

This one seems pretty straight forward, right?  I mean, you are writing a novel after all, and the point is for your readers is to see what's inside your head ... right?  This "rule" is somewhat deceitful in it's simplicity, because it is complex to adhere to.  The heart and soul of this rule is to have the dialogue (character interactions) drive the story forward while you show the reader what's going on.  Showing people something is one of the first skills we learn as mortal creatures (like the baby on the right), but it seems to be something we lose the older we get.  Look at this example:

Telling

 John was angry because his wife was leaving him.

Showing

John slammed his fist down on the bare kitchen table.  "Why can't we fix this, Helen?" he said.  "Why won't you just try!"

"Because," Helen said with her back towards him, "you'll never change."


See the difference in the (poor) example above?  Telling the reader simply states a fact.  It's boring, uninteresting, and leaves nothing for the reader to imagine.  Showing the reader changes everything.  You don't have to spell it out for the reader; they are clever creatures, and can get that John is angry with his wife ... if you write it well enough.

 "What about back story?" you may ask.  "How will the reader know what's going on unless I give them three pages of backstory before the opening scene?"

Good question, my dear Watson!  Very astute observation, my friend (I thought about saying "boy" here, and then "girl" ... my androgynous desires won out with "friend").  This is where you will hear the phrase drip feed.  Think of it just as it sounds.  You don't want to dump a butt load of information on the reader all at once like a dense chunk of Leftover casserole (now that's not casserole that was left over from dinner last night.  I mean Leftover Casserole, as in that dish that Mom makes every Friday that includes all the leftovers from the week before).  Rather, give the reader (through context and well planned dialogue) small, delicious, nutrient-packed crumbs as you go along.  This will help add drama to your narratives, and create the page-turning desire you want your reader to have with your work.

Take a look at the example of John and his wife.  I could have said, "John's wife was leaving him because John was stubborn and violent.  After several beatings she was sick of the abuse."  Even though it's one line, there's a lot of information that can be shown to the reader rather than explained, especially if the story's focal point is why she left her husband. In the showing example, information is slowly given to the reader through context and dialogue.  The reader can get that Helen is leaving John, that John is angry about it, and that John is (in Helen's opinion) stubborn.  A clever reader (and they always are) will get that John is violent (i.e. banging the table).  Nothing should be said in your story that isn't important (is this a rule?), and if it's worth mentioning, then it's worth showing (holy Moses!  More rules!  What have I become?!)

Finally, telling your reader what's happening, or has happened in the story, is basically calling them dumb.  You unknowingly believe that the reader will not be able to draw the connections together on their own, and so you must tell them up front.  This is a lie of the adversary, the devil, to get you to write crappy stories!  Alright, the devil might not be responsible for your misstep here, but then again ... maybe (shifty eyes).

This "rule" happens to be one that I think will really elevate your work.  Maybe you're not like me, and you figured this one out pretty early.  If so, then good for you.  We're proud of you!  But for the rest of us, this is going to be something we'll have to really work hard to remember.  And you probably won't catch it the first time through.  This is one of those things you'll catch in the dreaded editing stage of your novel (good luck with that).

So what do you think?  Is this a "rule" of writing good narrative, or are there instances where spoon feeding your reader is exactly what you need to do?  Let us know in the comments below.  If you've found this information useful, like it, love it, share it, and share some more!  Don't forget to follow and subscribe!

Criticism & Your First Novel

Criticism sucks.  There I said it.

It's not fun, it doesn't feel good, and it's not going to be easy.  David Mitchell, Black Swan Green, said, 

"If you show someone something you've written, you give them a sharpened stake, lie down in your coffin, and say, 'When you're ready'." 

 If you haven't taken this critical (deplorable) step in your quest to become (que superhero overtones) the Greatest Writer in the Universe, pay close attention to this quote ... it's true, and, just like the death of Dracula, you'll feel the torture of every negative word they speak (or write).  Beware, my friends, this road you've chosen to embark upon is one filled with the flayed skin of writers, and the continual, mutalation of their souls.  Criticism to the writer is it's own kind of hell.  Beware!  You must have the skin of a German Panzer to withstand what must be endured.

And it must be endured, too.  If you don't let anyone read your work before you attempt to publish, be it self publishing or through a traditional publishing house, you will be doing yourself and your novel a great disservice.  It doesn't matter how many times you have re-written your story.  It doesn't matter if you edited the holy crap out of it and found it flawless.  Someone, somewhere will find something that needs to change within your work.  

It's Okay.

You know why it's okay?  Because people (other than mom, God love her) can pick out those places in your narrative that are flimsy and weak.  If your dialogue is too boring to keep someone reading, you need to know about it.  They (your critics) will find information dumps where you thought you had none, and stupid, dumb, inconsistencies that you know shouldn't be there.  In short, taking those criticisms will make your writing stronger, better, more efficient, and just freakin' awesome (like the 6 million dollar man).

 But at what cost?  Is there a cost (shifty eyes) ... yes.  There may be a cost involved.

The Problem With Criticism

So let's say you've already spent countless hours researching for your novel.  Now you've gotten twenty, fulfilling chapters pumped out, and have decided that you want others to take a look at it.  You're sold on your work.  You love your work.  It's your baby.  You spoon fed it it's first few days ... changed it's dirty diapers, burped the little farts out of it.  I bet you remember the day when the chapters started to fly from your fingers, too.  Wasn't that a wonderful day?  Writing became quick and furious for you, and you watched your baby grow.

Now you're letting other people hold that baby, and they don't quite think so much of it as you do.  You thought it was damn near flawless, little to no blemish.  But the critics?  Oh man, they've all but dissected it, chewed it up, spat it out, and became a little green because it just didn't settle too well (I've now moved from the baby metaphor to food ... do not eat babies, please ... unless they are scrambled with cheese and from a chicken).  

Then they will rattle off all of these "rules" of writing that you've unknowingly broken.  "Poor thing," they say, "you obviously didn't know ... why would you have written such [insert negative term referring to your writing] if you had known?"  They mention your use of adverbs, and then your dialogue tags ... oh God, what have I done?  I've used "mumbled" instead of "said"!

You've discovered there are all these rules that you should've been paying attention to, and that perfect little baby looks a little more like an Orc (Balruk, runny bowels, he is now called) than a human.  Your heart it broken; you've been torn down, and you don't think you have the courage to pick yourself back up again (one dude even said your work sucked so much that he couldn't read it all).  Perhaps, like me, you contemplated throwing it all away (if I'm that bad, why should I be a writer in the first place?).  

Your work is worth it, that's why.  All those tears, all that hatred and self-loathing ... worth it.

Because you've got a damn good book, and you freakin' know it.  Take the criticisms that are helpful.  Employ the ones that really make your work to shine.  Take the painful criticisms and learn from them.  But don't get bogged down by them.  Make sure you keep pushing forward, ever progressing to that lofty goal of being a working writer (and all the things that means to you).  

I felt like life had ended.  While writing my novel, He the Hallowed, I fell into something like I've described above.  For a day or so I thought I needed to really follow all these rules people kept throwing at me.  Was I really that bad of a writer?  Had I not paid attention to the books I read as research?  I picked up a couple of best sellers from my private library (book shelf) and flipped through them.  

Do you know what I found?

Authors who disobeyed the almighty "rules", that's what.  So be careful that you don't listen to every word that your constructive critics suggest.  What they say, no matter how they say it, doesn't make them unaltered laws that you have to follow.  I'll leave you with another quote to simmer on until next time:

"In theory it was, around now, Literature.  Susan hated Literature.  She'd much prefer to read a good book." -Terry Pratchett, Soul of Music

Okay, one more:

"If critics say your work stinks it's because they want it to stink and they make it stink by scaring you into conformity with their comfortable little standards.  Standards so low that they can no longer be considered "dangerous" but set in place in their compartmental understandings." - Jack Kerouac 

For more quotes on novels and criticisms, check this out (all of the above quotes were derived from goodreads).  Sharing this stuff encourages me to write it.  If you feel encouraged by what I write, please follow me and sp-sp-sp-spread the word!

What do you think of criticism?  Have you ran into other writers that preach "rules" like a Southern Baptist on the sinner's prayer?  Let us know about it in the comments below.