“Don’t tell me your character is angry. Show me the white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, the jaw that could crack walnuts, and the silence that could suffocate a room.”
— L.A. Walton, The Book Maven
‘Show, don’t tell’ is the writing advice that every writer has heard, most writers understand intellectually, and almost nobody consistently executes well. It’s the flossing of the writing world: we all know we should do it; we just… don’t always.
So let’s break it down one more time, with practical examples, because knowing the rule and knowing how to APPLY the rule are very different skills.
Telling vs. Showing: A Side-by-Side
| Telling (Meh) | Showing (Chef’s Kiss) |
| “She was sad.” | “She pressed her forehead against the cold window and watched the rain blur the world outside.” |
| “He was nervous.” | “His leg bounced under the table, and he kept checking his phone even though nobody had texted.” |
| “The house was creepy.” | “The front door hung on one hinge, and something behind the walls scratched at the silence.” |
| “They were in love.” | “He saved the last bite of dessert for her without being asked. She wore his jacket even when she wasn’t cold.” |
| “She was brave.” | “Her hands shook as she stepped to the microphone, but she stepped anyway.” |
When Telling Is Actually Fine
- Transitions: ‘Three weeks later’ is telling. It’s fine. You don’t need to show 21 days passing.
- Pacing: Sometimes ‘he ran’ is better than a paragraph of showing the physical mechanics of running.
- Backstory: Brief telling beats a bloated flashback. ‘She’d been a doctor for 20 years’ doesn’t need a scene.
- Clarity: If showing confuses the reader, a clean ‘tell’ is the better choice.
Your Move, Creative
Find three ‘telling’ sentences in your current draft. Rewrite them as ‘showing’ moments. Feel the difference? That’s your writing leveling up in real time.
Stop letting your stories stay stuck.
