What – 2020 is
almost over? It’s hard to believe, but there were some good things this year,
so in these final days, I’m rerunning the top 10 readers’ favorite posts,
starting with numbers 9 and 10:
Show, don’t tell – unless you must!
Do
you believe in coincidences? Nah, me
neither. Sure, oddball things can happen. But the same oddball thing? Over and
over? Sure, when (according to legend) an apple fell on Ike Newton’s head,
he might have thought, ouch, imagine that. Until he remembered that he’d seen
(and probably felt) apples falling year after year, from tree after tree, and
figured there had to be a reason for such repeated phenomena.
Writers
being as fixated on such oddities as scientists or conspiracy theory hawkers,
when I saw the issue of “show vs. tell” twice in the past month, from different
writers in two separate writing critique groups, I didn’t laugh it off as
coincidence. But unlike Newton, instead of pulling out what mathematics I
remember from school to address the issue, I turned to notes from author Lori Freeland’s presentation about show vs. tell at
a pre-pandemic meeting of the Writers Guild of Texas earlier this year.
At
this point, I know some readers are wondering, what the heck does “show vs.
tell” mean? It’s all words, after all, isn’t it? I hope one of Freeland’s
favorite quotes from master storyteller (ooh – should be a better word), Anton
Chekov will make things clearer: “Don’t tell me the moon is
shining. Show me the glint of light
on broken glass.”
“Actions
(that glinting light) speak louder than words,” Freeland told her audience.
“So, if you want the reader’s attention, show!”
However,
there is a caution, which is, sometimes you
just need to get something out fast, without, frankly, catching a reader’s
attention with it. But how do you know when to show and when to tell? |
Image: Pixabay
|
In
“telling,” we writers put on our journalist’s hats, reporting and summarizing
information. We can also “tell” when we need/want to let readers know how they
should feel.
In
contrast, when we “show” we put on our artist’s berets to paint word pictures
that convey sensory and emotional information. In other words, when we don’t
want to tell readers how to feel something, instead allowing
them to feel it along with our characters.
“If
you’re saying an emotion word,” Freeland said, “you’re telling.”
In
other words: She was angry vs. Her fists clenched; her eyes narrowed. See the
picture? Feel the picture?
However,
this doesn’t mean that “telling” is necessarily lazy writing. If used well, it
can:
· Summarize
· Increase
the pace of the story
· Minimize
the mundane
· Keep
down word count
Don’t,
Freeland warned, make something mundane seem overly important by describing it.
And if you find yourself needing to keep the word count of your tale under, say
300,000, look for those mundane parts and tell, tell, tell!
However,
when something in a story is a really big deal, the writer must use her “show”
hat. And when he wants to evoke an emotion? Show it! (Freeland is a romance
writer, so showing emotion is a really, really, REALLY big deal for
her.)
Somewhat
contradictorily, Freeland also noted that showing doesn’t always take more
space on the page than telling, nor does it always slow down the pace of the
story.
The
major issue in deciding whether to show vs. tell is whether what is happening
in the story is important or not. Don’t make something mundane overly important
by describing it. However, if what’s happening in the story is a big deal, it
must be shown.
If
writers are undecided, Freeland suggests writing a brief summary of what needs
to happen in a scene, marking what’s important, and then making a point of
showing at those marked places.
“If
you want something to be a big deal to the reader, make sure it’s a big deal to
your character.”
OK,
now we’re excited about showing, but how to do it?
Freeland’s
tip: avoid using emotion words. No angry, sad, glad, excited, sorry, blah,
blah, blah. Instead, use:
· Sensory
words
· Descriptions
· Actions
· Internal
thought (but only for the point of view character)
· Internal
body reactions (sometimes called visceral reactions, these are always
involuntary)
· Similes
and metaphors
· Subtext
Subtext?
It’s one of those things like “voice” that writers talk about but never seem to
pin down. It’s the implicit, unstated meaning lying beneath the written text,
as when a character states that she feels perfectly fine when we as readers
know she’s miserable. Or when a Hemingway character notices the fat hardening
on a strip of bacon while his mother is trying to discuss her concerns about
him. Hmmm.
“Sometimes
it’s more powerful to show what doesn’t happen,” Freeland said. “Subtext evokes
emotion and emotion keeps your readers involved.”
I’m
sorry I can’t share Freeland’s entire presentation with my own readers,
including her illustrative exercises. But workshops are some of what she does
for a living (she has a separate one on subtext) so why not ask your critique
group to host her. Virtually speaking.
***
Thrillerfest bites:
plotting, villains, research & more
Here I am, about to wrap up
my first-ever Thrillerfest, which I could only afford because like so many
events this year it was online. My ticket entitled me to videos of 58
internationally known thriller writers who would normally have gathered for
their annual conference in New York. I’ve watched fewer than a dozen because I
can’t sit still more than an hour or two before my dogs demand to be let out
(and back into the fortunately air-conditioned house because Texas is damned
hot in July). Still, it seemed unfair to make readers wait until I’ve seen
everything – which will be online until next year – before sharing, including
that there’s more than one way, maybe more than a dozen, to become a famous
author in my favorite genre.
To plot or not
“I start out with a couple
of topics, items of interest to me,” said writer of the Joe Pickett Wyoming
game warden series, C.J. Box, “then usually an idea or two from the wider
world.” At this point, although some of his books are unplanned, Box typically
begins an outline, which can run up to 40 pages, and which after 20 Joe Pickett
books can be helpful in keeping track of characters and events.
“Does anything ever blow up
the outline,” interviewer Ryan Steck asked. “Totally!” Box said. “Sometimes
something happen in the middle. Sometimes it’s just throwing a curve.”
“I create a lot of
outlines,” said Dan Brown, author of the Da Vinci Code among
other thrillers featuring the professorial Robert Langdon. “I usually write the
last scene first so that I know where I’m going – though it will probably
change.”
“I like to set the story
evolve organically,” Sandra Brown said. “The first draft is the rough one. The
next draft is the crafting one, making sure I’ve milked everything I can out of
every scene.”
Diana Gabaldon also
famously writes outline-free, having started her first book, Outlander, with a
single image – “a man in a kilt” – from an episode of Doctor Who set
in 18th century Scotland. After writing for about three days,
she “came upon an Englishwoman (character) who wouldn’t shut up,” and
incorporated the story’s time travel element (again, probably thanks to the
good Doctor).
On the other hand, for
lawyer turned author John Grisham. “Everything starts with a plot. . . I don’t
think I’ve started with a character. I know the last scene before I write the first
page.”
“I always have a grand
plan,” thriller/historical writer Ken Follett said. His special take on
plotting/outlining is – making lists. “I do that all the time. It’s great
because it gives me a perspective I wouldn’t have if I just wrote sentence by
sentence.”
And then there’s the unique
take of Kathy Reichs, author of the Temperance Brennan “Bones” series for
adults as well as the Virals young adult series co-written
with her son Brendan Reichs. “I don’t do a lot of outlines,” Reichs said, “(but)
my son is a fanatic about it! I outline maybe six to seven chapters and then
write the rest.” Her twist is to outline retroactively, to remember where to
find something she wrote earlier. “So, I end up with an outline, even I didn’t
start with one.”
Oddball characters
C. J. Box’s first agent (in
New York) told him he couldn’t sell his book because “who wants to read about a
game warden in some place nobody’s ever heard of?” Box deliberately set out to
make Pickett “a state employee, a Dudley Do-right, who doesn’t make much money
and dotes on his wife and family. Wouldn’t that be unusual? . . .I’m proud to
say 51 percent of my readers are women. I think it’s the family relationships
between Joe’s wife and daughters.”
If a game warden seems like
a strange protagonist for a thriller, how about a college professor like Dan
Brown’s Robert Langdon? In Brown’s case, it was a case of writing what he knew,
he said. Having grown up in an academic environment, why not have an art
history professor as the hero – although he admits Langdon’s specialty of
“symbology” is completely fictional.
Villains
“It’s all about point of
view,” Box said. “Once we know what drives (villains), even it’s despicable
reasons, readers can understand them.”
The attraction of villains,
for Dan Brown is, “the ambiguity, that is, a villain who does the wrong things
for the right reasons. . . (and) finding an argument I can argue from both
sides.”
What is it about bad
characters that readers like, interviewer Jeff Ayers asked Grisham. “Most
lawyers are good, hardworking people who make much money,” he replied. “Nobody
wants to read about that!”
Follett’s take on a great
villain is, “You have to hate him but (not) in the way you do COVID-19. He has
to be a person. He must be a bully but he must have people around him. I don’t
think it has to depend on violence. We can hate him for just being nasty.”
Series vs. standalone books
“Standalones are the harder
to write,” Box said, although after 20 Joe Pickett books, he finds himself
walking “a fine line between introducing (backstory) to new readers without
boring longtime readers. I try to sum it up in a sentence or two for new
readers so they don’t fee lost.”
Grisham, on the other hand,
prefers standalones. “Once I’ve finished a book, I’m done. You can’t do that
with a series.” Although, he’ll never say never, having written a middle-grade
thriller series, Theodore Boone: Kid Lawyer, and his Camino
Island mystery is threatening to morph into a series with its
follow-up, Camino Winds.
Author branding vs. genre jumping
“I had written 40 series
romances before I wrote my first crossover (into suspense),” Sandra Brown said.
“It was freeing but terrifying. My publisher said, ‘Do we sell you as a romance
writer or a suspense writer? You’re sending mixed signals.’”
“After ten legal thrillers,
I asked myself about writing other types of books, Grisham said. “(My
mystery) Camino Winds, for instance doesn’t have a single lawyer!”
Follett’s take on switching
from his original, trademark thrillers to historical novels with the crossover
historical fiction of The Pillars of the Earth, is
there was a common thread tying all of them together. “Two things that appeal
to me enormously are writing about people in love and people in danger. So long
as I have those very basic human (issues) there was a continuity between my
books.”
Research
“I always go (to sites),”
Box said, “if I’m going to someplace other than the mythical Saddlestring,
Wyoming,” which is Joe Pickett’s home. “I put on my old reporter hat.” Visits
to settings can turn up unexpected insights – such as how much wind turbines
can sway -- and conduct interviews. “Even though there might be some hesitancy
at first, everybody I’ve talked to has been incredibly forthcoming – sometimes
more than I anticipate. Just like cops, people love to talk about their
professions.”
“I read a lot and go to
locations,” said Dan Brown, for whom location is character. “I
also interview a lot of people, but before I can talk to specialists, I have to
know something.”
Gabaldon had, again
famously, ever been to Scotland before selling her first novel, which made
enough money to finance a trip to the country for her and her husband (who, not
incidentally, is tall and redhaired like her book’s hero). “I don’t do any
(research) before I start,” Gabaldon said, “because the research is concurrent
with the writing. I just trip over stuff as I go along.” She reads primarily
for “atmosphere,” she said, while using the Internet for particulars.
