Found this in a batch of older questions: When one conveys descriptions, actions, or background information through dialogue, does it count as showing or telling?
The short answer is, the writer is “showing” two characters in conversation. People in conversations are of course “telling” each other things; that’s how conversations work. Don’t worry about it.
However, the question totally misses the point of the “show, don’t tell” supposed-rule. (Which isn’t a rule. There Is No One True Way, there are only three rules for writing but nobody knows what they are, etc. Nobody—not editors, and definitely not readers—is sitting around checking whether something “counts” as showing or telling. I promise.)
Besides, taken literally, “show, don’t tell” means that nobody can ever write a story that is meant to be read. Movies, TV, stage plays—those “show,” but everything in a novel is, technically, told. (This is why it is called storytelling.) And really, all fiction “tells” a story, one way or another, even movies and TV and comics (all of which tell their stories visually, which is the basic definition of “showing”—to make something visible).
“Show, don’t tell” is a snappy, three-word summary of a rule of thumb that is about as far from a clear and absolute law of writing as any piece of writing advice I have ever seen. The problem, as evidenced by the above question and by all the terrible examples people use to explain it, is that it doesn’t define exactly what “showing” is, compared to “telling.”
You can tell this is the case because at least 99% of the time, someone giving an example of “telling” vs. “showing” gets it wrong. The last one I saw claimed that “He got up and had breakfast” was “telling,” and three paragraphs of “He got out of bed. He showered. He shaved…” through making breakfast and eating it was “showing.” Providing extra details doesn’t change something from “telling” to “showing,” any more than eliminating details changes it from “showing” to “telling.”
Since there isn’t actually a definition of what showing or telling is, I’m going to tell you what I think it is: “telling” is providing an opinion of a character, action, place, etc. without giving the reader any evidence that they should believe said opinion; “showing” is providing a reader with evidence on which to form an opinion of their own. “Telling” is, therefore, frequently abstract (“He had a slow morning;” “The room was beautiful;” “She was a mean girl”); “showing” is concrete or (in the case of characterization, especially) dramatized.
Unfortunately, “showing” or dramatizing information is subject to interpretation. One reader may interpret a character’s behavior as believably happy and cheerful, while a different reader may see it as manic or a forced way of covering up depression. Nothing can be done about this. Different readers have different life experiences, and they will interpret character behavior accordingly.
To make it a little clearer: “Harold was a tremendously generous person” is abstract. It’s the writer’s opinion of Harold; it’s what the writer wants the reader to believe about Harold; but it does not give the reader any evidence that Harold is, in fact, more than normally generous. A conversation in which two other characters comment on Harold’s generosity is more likely to be persuasive, especially if the speakers give examples, or if the reader has reason to think those characters would know of incidents that they’re not giving in detail. A scene in which Harold signs the title to his new car and gives it to a homeless family gives the reader direct evidence of Harold’s behavior, which the reader can interpret as illustrating Harold’s generosity…or as an example of him being stupidly impulsive. Or, indeed, both.
This is one reason why some writers default to simply saying “Harold was tremendously generous.” It seems like a more reliable way of giving the reader the “right” information. The trouble is, that this “telling” is also subject to reader interpretation based on experience. To one reader, “tremendously generous” may mean making a larger-than-average dollar donation to a couple of charities at Christmas, while to another it implies contributing some time and money all year long, and to a third it means the character is going without things he/she wants in order to be able to donate more to their favorite causes. When, later in the story, the character impulsively gives away his new car, some of these readers will be disappointed, because the character isn’t portraying the specific kind of “tremendous generosity” those readers expected.
The most effective way of getting readers to share the writer’s opinion of a character is, therefore, a combination of approaches. We learn about real people based on what we see them do and hear them say, as well as what other people tell us about them. If what we see and the way we interpret it agrees with other people’s interpretations, we tend to be pretty confident in our judgement. When someone’s observations differ from what others are saying, most people give at least some consideration to the alternate interpretation…and either they revise their own interpretation of the behavior, or they revise what they think of the people giving the alternate interpretation, or both.
So the combination approach is a two-fer, or even a three-fer. If the writer describes Harold as generous, then provides a scene in which Harold behaves generously, it confirms for the reader that Harold is, in fact, a generous person. It also confirms that the reader can trust the writer’s opinion, because what the writer said has turned out to be true, as demonstrated by Harold’s behavior. If two other characters later on discuss Harold’s generous action, the reader will weigh their opinions against both the writer’s original statement and the reader’s own observations (the scene wherein Harold behaved generously), and come to conclusions about the reliability of everything—the writer’s opinion of Harold, Harold’s actual behavior, the other characters’ opinions of Harold (and how much their opinions/comments can be trusted, depending on what the reader has decided about everything else).
My sweetie once handed me a romance novel to try, because she’d enjoyed it. As I recall, the opening paragraph was a very static introduction to the female protagonist. She stood there while the author described her. One sentence was something like, “Everyone she met found her attractive.”
“I don’t,” I said, and handed the book back.
Now, that’s probably more an indication of my preference for dynamic prose than anything else…but I felt like the author was trying to tell me how to react to the book, which I resented.
All of which anecdote is merely to illustrate that “Show, don’t tell” is, as our hostess makes clear, really easy to get confused by.
But its prevalence is an indicator that many writers over many years have found that many readers prefer narrative to exposition. So “try to show, and try not to tell – too much” is probably a better way of wording the guideline. (Not rule, as our hostess also makes clear!)
This reminds me of something Roy Peter Clark writes about in chapter 27 of “Writing Tools.” (Which is a very good book, by the way.) He says that it’s better to describe the character’s actions and let the reader form their own opinion than it is to tack a label on the character and tell the reader what to believe — in essence, showing us what the person does instead of telling us about their character traits.
“She was strong” doesn’t tell me anything.
“In one trip, she carried two hundred pounds of wheat to the beggar’s shelter” tells me not only that she’s strong, but that she’s willing to use her strength to help someone. It’s a bit wordier, but if done right, that sort of technique can eliminate the need to write an entire scene demonstrating the character’s strength.
Perhaps instead of saying, “Show, don’t tell,” and trying to work with a completely ambiguous (and thus somewhat useless) piece of writing “advice”, we ought to have a little more fun with our word play and say, “Demonstrate, don’t opinionate.” 😀
Thank you for this article. It’s helped me feel better about some of the things I’ve been writing and clarified where I need to change, and where what I have is fine.
I find that there is a balance you have to strike as an author, between the showing and telling, or perhaps we should use “say and prove”. Due to the Law of the Conservation of Detail, you can only fit in so much “showing”, and you have to pick your battles. If your scene requires the MC to be generous, but that generosity is not pivotal to the plot, how much of the reader’s time are you going to spend proving yourself?
There are times when you do need to go back and prove the statement, but it might not be worth spending a whole scene on it. And that is where the “say And prove” option excels. If the assertion is a major character point then you need to provide more experience of the situation. If the whole part is just to establish realism to a side action, then maybe it is fine to just say it and move on.