Bonus Chapter: Show/Tell Case Study

When one of your instructors, Patrick Rogers, worked on his Secret Guardians fiction trilogy, he received extensive feedback from his editor on using less tell and more show. Patrick has graciously offered to share with you some of his draft scenes written before and after a "tell less, show more" revision. We have also included his editor's comments so you can see how experienced editors look at the "show, don't tell" writing technique.

Following the passages you'll find a practice exercise that will help you recognize when a writer is telling and when he is showing.

ORIGINAL PASSAGE

This passage, taken from The Girl Who Invoked Fire, is narrative telling by the story’s protagonist, Jian, who writes in first person.

Much had transpired in the five years since I’d left Belfast. For one big thing, Luke and I were married in a small, private ceremony this past summer. It was a simple, joyous event, our only regret being that Anna and our other Irish friends had not been there. But we would celebrate with them in Ireland sometime in the near future. At least that was our hope. I hadn’t been back but once since—during Christmas break of 2002, when I stayed with Anna and her family. This was mostly because I’d decided to take classes year-round so I could finish my degree in three years instead of four. Coming out of high school, I’d badly needed to develop a skill set that would allow me to find proper employment. Now, as a communication and media arts major, I had the beginnings of one.

Note that this passage simply recounts, or tells, what happened. Let’s see how the editor has the writer add dialogue-driven action, setting and reflection in order to get him to show action, rather than simply narrate or tell what happened.

EDITOR'S COMMENTS
1. Write out the marriage scene. You cannot just tell it in narrative summary. You will also have to rework other chapters to reflect their marriage and close relationship. This will include adding more conversations between the two of them, having them share a room at night, giving each other knowing looks, etc.

2. Add more dialogue. There are a lot of conversations or information passed between characters that are conveyed in exposition (narrative telling). I would like you to pull most of these moments out into active dialogue. If it is important to the plot's progression or a character's development, the information should be actively shown, not passively talked about. This allows the other characters to speak for themselves and allows readers to make their own decisions about who these people are, rather than having to take Jian's word (and bias) on everything. It also allows Jian's narration to be reserved for her own perception of the events around her rather than simply being an informative narrative— that is to say, we get to spend most of the exposition learning about Jian's character.

3. Talking heads. When you include lengthy conversations, the setting and people surrounding the words often disappear. You'll see a lot of comments in the chapters asking you to add facial expressions, body language, character movement (crossing the room, folding their hands in their lap, sipping their drink, glancing at another person, etc.) and tone to accompany their words. We want to make sure dialogue is snappy, conversational, and not lecture-like. Remember, about 93% of all communication is nonverbal. That means that spoken words simply can't tell a reader everything that's happening in the conversation. How something is said—or the circumstances under which something is said—is almost always more important than what was said verbatim.

EXTENSIVELY REWRITTEN PASSAGE

This is the writer’s response to the editor’s request to “show” the marriage scene. Note how setting, dialogue and reflection are used to create a richly visual scene, vastly improving on the original narrative summary above. This is showing. However, note that elements of narrative telling are still interspersed throughout this shown action, such as the introductory paragraphs. The difference is that these narrative elements don’t dominate. Rather, they tie together and support the action in the chapter.

County Down, Northern Ireland

Tullymurry House, Tullymurry Road

June 2002

Luke and I couldn’t wait for graduation to reunite us. I flew back to Northern Ireland during the summer break between sophomore and junior year to spend a week with Anna’s family and Luke before embarking on a journey I could scarcely believe was true. On a glorious June morning, he and I rode together in his car out of Belfast to the countryside, with Anna’s family, Claire, and Mieke caravanning in two cars behind us. I held his hand as we drove, my heart singing with joy.

This time tomorrow, we would be married.

We drove through Banbridge and then out through open country. Soon, we passed a highsteepled church, its arched windows looking out over an overgrown cemetery. I said a silent prayer for the souls laid to rest here, briefly musing over where they might be now—perhaps reincarnated in a village or a farm nearby, or perhaps far from this bucolic corner of Ireland. Wherever they now lived, they were being taught by the great teacher called life. I wondered if any of them had ascended by now and were forever free from the wheel of rebirth. Who could say?

Luke’s voice brought me back to the moment.

“We’re here, J,” he announced as we drove up a hedge-lined lane.

Just as he said it, Tullymurry, a restored country farmhouse dating to the seventeenth century, appeared like a postcard of a time gone by.

We crunched to a stop on the gravel drive. I got out and helped Luke gather our luggage from the boot of the car. I couldn’t believe we were staying here tonight. It was lovely beyond belief.

* * *

After we dropped off our travel bags in the house, we explored the grounds. Luke and I led the way with the rest of our company—Anna and her parents, Alik and Tanya, her younger brothers, Alexei and Mischa, and Claire and Mieke—trailing a respectful distance behind. Taking in the peace of Tullymurry, no one spoke, not even the boys.

Tonight, Tom and Eamon would join us for our wedding rehearsal and dinner afterward. Since the house only slept eight and we already were squeezing in nine, the apostle boys had graciously volunteered to bunk at a nearby bed and breakfast. Tomorrow, Eamon would lead us through the vows Luke and I had written for the occasion, our legal vows having been exchanged earlier in the week at a Register Office in Belfast. If the weather cooperated, the ceremony would be held in the flowering English gardens that graced the rear of the property. I could barely contain my excitement as I thought of walking past those blooms to my soon-to-be husband.

That evening, after rehearsing in the shade of the plum trees at the edge of the property’s orchard, we went inside and squeezed around a long table in Tullymurry’s country kitchen. Anna had arranged for a catered meal, driven out from Belfast, appropriate to the varied tastes of our little group.

Over supper, we caught each other up on what we’d been up to since our last meal together, two summers ago at Lough Neagh. Anna’s parents and brother were hearing some of our news for the first time, for they were not there when I had broken the news that I was going away to college. Far away. I recapped my studies at the University of Michigan, announcing that I would graduate next summer, a year early, which was quite grand. Coming out of secondary school, I’d badly needed to develop a skill set that would allow me to find proper employment, and as a journalism major I would have the beginnings of one.

I spoke at length about my studies, answering questions, but Luke’s news was the biggest surprise.

“I’ll be working for the government,” he said almost casually.

“The federal government,” I clarified, smiling with pride.

Luke and I had been discussing his new position since he’d first seen it posted online, so I knew the subject well. Given its sensitive nature, I wondered how much detail he planned to go into.

“What?” Anna asked, looking between us, her eyes widening.

“I’ll be working out of San Antonio, Texas,” Luke confirmed. “Not coming back to Ireland, I’m afraid. Maybe someday, though, especially if this young lady sitting next to me decides to come home after she’s done with school.”

“Big news, Luke,” Tom said, giving him a congratulatory clap on the shoulder. “Tell us about the job.”

Luke paused, as if assembling his answer.

“Well, it’s in a new department, one that was created in response to the terror attacks last year. I start the week after next. Other than that, I don’t know much, except that I’ll be dealing with trafficking.”

“This department, is it Homeland Security?” Anna’s father, Alik, asked.

Luke nodded. It was little wonder that Alik guessed the specifics. America’s international security protocols had been making news for several years now, and Anna’s dad loved to follow the news.

Mieke quietly circled the table, clearing dishes. She had already refilled the cups of the coffee and tea drinkers. The Dutch girl seemed most at home serving others, I’d noticed.

“What will you do there?” Anna’s youngest brother, Alexei, interjected. Luke grimaced, as if he would rather not answer. At first, he didn’t, but then he relented.

“My job description is fighting—and I’m not sure that’s the best word for it—the human trafficking problem along America’s borders.”

“You mean smuggling people across the border?”

“No, smuggling illegals is different,” I added, as Luke had explained it to me. “Trafficking is when people are lured with promises of a better life, jobs and such, and then—”

“Then they’re enslaved,” Mieke said, the emotion thick in her voice as she placed the dish she had been washing back in the sink. “And ‘fighting’ is the right word,” she added with an approving look at Luke. “I’m so glad to hear. I want to do this, too, someday.”

We all startled at Mieke’s passion. The Dutch girl rarely offered her opinions. I tried to catch her eye, but she quickly turned back to the sink and her dishes. Luke’s eyes narrowed, as if realizing he could no longer gloss over the subject.

“It’s more common than you think,” he said.

“And you will be fighting the ones who do this?” Alexei asked again. I’d discovered that Anna’s no-longer-little brother—he now towered over me, long blond hair and all—was as quick of mind as she was.

“That’s one of the things, yes. But my position is brand new. I’ve been told it will evolve, so we’ll see.” Luke shrugged, obviously not wanting to say too much more. I knew there were still a lot of unknowns for him, and he wanted to be careful what he said to others about his new role.

Mieke began setting dessert dishes in front of us, a mix of berries with applesauce served in blueand-white china bowls.

“Wonderful! Thank you, Mieke,” Claire exclaimed. “Can’t forget dessert.”

The rest of us chimed in with our approvals and thank yous.

“So, Jian,” Claire said in between spoonfuls, “you’re marrying a rolling stone. Think you can tame his wanderlust?”

“I’m an explorer, sister, not a stone that rolls,” Luke replied theatrically. “That’s a baseless misconception.”

Claire rolled her eyes.

“He’ll still be traveling a lot, I’m afraid,” I said. I had tried not to think of that part so as not to dull my excitement about being back in the same country as Luke. Being married to him.

“Unfortunately,” Luke added. “We’ll live in Michigan until Jian graduates, but I don’t expect to be home much.”

“But we’ll be married!” I gushed, in an effort to push those thoughts aside. A grin of pure delight spread over my face. “And I’m so grateful! I love him so much!”

Everyone stared at me as if I’d gone off the deep end. I’d never said a public word about how much I cared for my husband-to-be. To me, that stuff was private. Well, I’d just broadcasted it to the world. Yes, I would declare my love again in my vows tomorrow, but this was the first time my friends had heard what was written all over my face. I could see it warmed their hearts. But I’m sure my face flushed. Luke confirmed it.

“J, you look like one of those plums on those trees out back,” he said, giving me a squeeze.

“Let’s change the subject,” I said sheepishly. Everyone was grinning like the cat in Alice in Wonderland.

My wedding day began with a pale red sky over the trees to the east, but clouds soon rolled in. By late morning, the rain started—first a light drizzle, then a steady downpour with lightning and thunder afar. But nothing would dampen this day. We moved the ceremony inside to Tullymurry’s lovely parlor. As we stood before Eamon to take our vows, with Anna to my right as maid of honor and her father serving as Luke’s best man, the rest of our guests settled into the room’s twin violet-colored love seats. The room’s fireplace had been lit, and its grand piano sat invitingly in one corner. Anna and Claire already had enjoyed the piano and had worked with Eamon—this I’d heard from Mischa—on choosing songs for the ceremony.

As per tradition, I’d been sequestered from Luke until my walk down the aisle—the hallway from Anna’s and Mieke’s room, which had been pressed into service as a bride’s dressing room.

This is about as far as I will take the tale of my wedding day. The rest I will keep to myself, dresses and tuxes, the cake and the reception, our sublime first dance and more. Suffice to say, it was a time filled with beauty and wonder. I wondered at the time, and still wonder now, at my amazing good fortune. For how in this wide world did a once-lost waif from the wrong side of Belfast find her way into the heart of a prince who had crossed the sea to find her?