How to Avoid Telling Traps

The cornerstone of compelling narrative is not just what happens, but how it’s perceived. For many aspiring and even seasoned writers, the insidious “telling trap” lies in wait, ready to drain the vibrancy and immediacy from their prose. It’s the difference between being a voyeur to an experience and being a passive recipient of information. This isn’t about shunning all exposition; it’s about mastering the art of revelation, ensuring your reader actively participates in the discovery process rather than being force-fed facts. This guide will dismantle the concept of telling, expose its many forms, and arm you with concrete, actionable strategies to transform your narratives from flat pronouncements into immersive realities.

The Anatomy of a Telling Trap: Why We Fall and What It Costs

At its core, “telling” is the act of stating a piece of information or an emotional state directly, rather than allowing the reader to infer it through action, dialogue, or sensory details. It’s the writer-as-narrator hand-holding the reader through every emotional beat and plot point, removing the intellectual and emotional payoff of discovery.

Why do we fall into this trap? Often, it stems from a desire for clarity, a subconscious fear that the reader won’t “get it.” We assume our audience needs explicit signposts for every nuance. Sometimes, it’s simply efficiency – it feels quicker to state “He was angry” than to sculpt a scene that shows his anger. But this efficiency comes at a steep price:

Loss of Immersion: When you tell, you pull the reader out of the narrative. They become an observer of your words, not a participant in your world.
Reduced Emotional Resonance: Emotions told are rarely felt. Readers empathize when they witness the struggle, not when they’re told someone is struggling.
Undermined Trust: Constant telling can make a reader feel patronized. It implies you don’t trust them to connect the dots or draw their own conclusions.
Flat Characters: Characters described with adjectives rather than demonstrated through their actions and reactions remain two-dimensional and uninteresting.
Static Scenes: Explaining what’s happening or how someone feels prevents the scene from unfolding organically.

Understanding these costs is the first step toward consciously avoiding the traps.

Decoding the Deceptive Forms of Telling

Telling isn’t a monolithic entity; it manifests in various subtle and not-so-subtle ways. Recognizing these forms is crucial for self-correction.

1. The Adjective and Adverb Overload

This is perhaps the most common and insidiously simple form of telling. You use a single word to describe a complex state or action, short-circuiting the need for descriptive prose.

Telling Example: “The woman was beautiful and kind. He spoke nervously.”

Why it tells: “Beautiful” tells us she possesses a quality, but doesn’t show us how she’s beautiful (a graceful curve of her jaw, the way light catches her eyes). “Kind” is a judgment, not an observation of an act of kindness. “Nervously” describes the manner of speaking but bypasses the physical manifestations of nervousness (fidgeting, stammering, avoiding eye contact).

Showing Strategy: Focus on sensory details and physical manifestations.

Showing Example: “Light seemed to gather in the gentle curve of her cheekbone, her eyes crinkling at the corners when she smiled. He cleared his throat, the sound rough, and his gaze skittered across the polished tabletop, refusing to meet hers as he began to speak.”

2. The Emotional Statement

Directly stating a character’s emotion without demonstrating it. This strips the emotion of its power and connection.

Telling Example: “Sarah was sad.” “He was furious.”

Why it tells: These are labels. Sadness and fury manifest differently in everyone. Without knowing how Sarah is sad (silent tears, a slumped posture, a vacant stare) or how he is furious (clenched fists, a vein throbbing in his temple, a low growl), the reader receives a mere fact, not an experience.

Showing Strategy: Translate emotion into physical reactions, internal monologue, dialogue, or shifts in environment.

Showing Example (Sadness): “Sarah stared blankly at the rain streaking the windowpane, a single, unheeded tear tracing a path across her cheek. The weight in her chest felt like a stone, pressing the air from her lungs.”

Showing Example (Fury): “His knuckles gleamed white where they gripped the steering wheel, a muscle ticcing relentlessly in his jaw. The veins in his neck stood out like cords, and a low, guttural sound rumbled from deep within his chest.”

3. The Character Trait Declaration

Announcing a character’s personality or inherent qualities rather than revealing them through their actions, decisions, and interactions.

Telling Example: “Mark was brave and resourceful.” “She was a selfish person.”

Why it tells: We immediately accept these judgments without seeing the evidence. This leaves no room for the reader to form their own opinion based on the character’s behavior. A “brave” character isn’t brave because you say so; they’re brave because they step into a burning building or stand up for an unpopular truth.

Showing Strategy: Let characters act their traits. Their personality should emerge organically.

Showing Example (Bravery/Resourcefulness): “The building’s timbers groaned, smoke thick enough to chew, but Mark didn’t hesitate. He tore a strip from his shirt, soaked it in the overflowing sink, and tied it over his mouth and nose. ‘Stay low,’ he rasped, gesturing towards the flickering light of the emergency exit before ducking beneath a collapsing beam.”

Showing Example (Selfishness): “With a sigh, she picked the largest slice of cake, barely glancing at her younger sister’s wistful expression. ‘Oh, you can have the next one,’ she mumbled around a mouthful, crumbs dusting her chin.”

4. The Backstory Dump and Information Download

Cramming large chunks of past events or technical information into a single paragraph or page, often interrupting the flow of the present narrative. This is the literary equivalent of an infomercial.

Telling Example: “Elara had always hated the color red, a deep-seated aversion stemming from a traumatic childhood incident where a rogue blood-mage had ravaged her village, leaving her the sole survivor. This event shaped her entire worldview, making her distrustful of magic and fiercely independent.”

Why it tells: It’s exposition delivered in a block. The reader is told the cause and effect, without experiencing the gradual revelation or impact of the past on the present.

Showing Strategy: Weave backstory naturally into the narrative – through flashbacks (brief and purposeful), dialogue, character reactions, or environmental clues. Deliver information in smaller, digestible chunks as it becomes relevant.

Showing Example: “Elara flinched when the merchant unfurled the crimson silk, her hand instinctively going to the hilt of her dagger. A phantom scent of burnt earth and something metallic, cloying, pricked at the edge of her memory – a memory she still couldn’t unearth entirely, only the chilling impression it left on her soul. She just knew red was a color of ill omen, of things best left buried.” (Later, pieces of the backstory can be revealed through encounters or internal reflection.)

5. The Internal Monologue as Explicit Exposition

While internal monologue can be powerful for showing a character’s thoughts and feelings, it becomes a telling trap when used to explicitly state plot points or character motivations that could be implied or shown through action.

Telling Example: “He thought about how important it was to secure the relic quickly, because if he didn’t, the entire kingdom would fall to Lord Malakor’s dark magic.”

Why it tells: This is the character narrating the plot for the reader. It strips the suspense and discovery.

Showing Strategy: Use internal monologue to reveal how the character processes information, their biases, their fears, not simply what the stakes are. Let actions, dialogue, and rising tension demonstrate the stakes.

Showing Example: “A cold knot tightened in his gut. The relic. Every waking moment was swallowed by that single, burning truth. If it fell into Malakor’s hands… a vision of blackened spires and starving faces flashed unbidden behind his eyes. Not on his watch. Never again.”

6. The Abstract Statement

Making broad, general statements about a situation or a character’s experience instead of grounding them in specific details.

Telling Example: “Their journey was difficult.” “The city was impressive.”

Why it tells: These words are subjective and vague. “Difficult” to one person might mean a few bumps in the road; to another, it means starvation and near-death experiences. What makes a city “impressive” – towering architecture, bustling markets, or its historical significance?

Showing Strategy: Replace abstract terms with concrete, sensory details.

Showing Example (Difficult Journey): “The sun beat down relentlessly, baking the earth into a cracked mosaic. Their water skins were nearly empty, and the biting dust settled on every exposed inch of skin, rasping in their throats with every labored breath.”

Showing Example (Impressive City): “Marble spires pierced the cloudless sky, gleaming like polished teeth. Below, the marketplace hummed with a thousand voices, the scent of exotic spices mingling with the distant clang of the blacksmith’s hammer and the sweet perfume of blooming jacaranda.”

The Art of Showing: Actionable Strategies to Master Revelation

Moving from telling to showing isn’t just about identifying problems; it’s about developing a robust toolkit of solutions.

1. Employ Sensory Details (The 5 Senses + Kinesthetic)

This is the bedrock of showing. Readers experience your world through their senses. Don’t just tell them what happened; let them taste, smell, hear, see, and touch it. Don’t forget the kinesthetic sense – how something feels on or in the body (a sharp ache, a shiver, a knot in the stomach).

Instead of: “The room was cold.”
Try: “A chill, damp and bone-deep, seeped from the stone walls, raising goosebumps on his arms.”
Instead of: “She felt angry.”
Try: “Her jaw ached from clenching, and a hot, prickly sensation spread from her neck up into her scalp.”

2. Leverage Strong Verbs and Nouns

Vague verbs and weak nouns often pave the way for adverbs and adjectives that tell. Opt for verbs that carry intrinsic meaning and nouns that are specific.

Instead of: “He walked sadly.” (Verb + Adverb)
Try: “He shuffled,” or “He trudged.” (Stronger, more specific verbs implying sadness or weariness.)
Instead of: “She made a loud noise.”
Try: “She shrieked,” or “She bellowed.” (More precise verbs).
Instead of: “He went to the building.”
Try: “He went to the gothic cathedral,” or “He went to the weathered shack.” (Specific nouns create a clearer picture).

3. Utilize Dialogue for Character and Plot Revelation

Dialogue is a powerful tool for showing. What characters say, how they say it (their chosen words, their tone, their pauses), and what they don’t say, all reveal character, relationships, and advance the plot without direct narration.

Instead of: “He was a good leader who inspired loyalty.”
Try: “‘I’d follow him into the jaws of a leviathan,’ the grizzled veteran muttered, spitting tobacco. ‘He always puts his men first.'” (Dialogue reveals loyalty and the leader’s quality).
Instead of: “The secret was about to be revealed.”
Try: “‘Just… one more thing,’ she whispered, her gaze darting towards the closed door, ‘something I never told anyone about that night…'” (Dialogue creates suspense and hints at the revelation).

Consider subtext in dialogue – do characters say one thing but mean another? This “showing” reinforces complexity.

4. Employ Body Language and Action

Characters communicate constantly through their physical presence. Their posture, gestures, facial expressions, and movements speak volumes.

Instead of: “She was nervous.”
Try: “She wrung her hands, the fabric of her skirt twisting between her fingers, and her gaze, wide and flickering, avoided his.”
Instead of: “He was frustrated.”
Try: “He slammed the book shut with a resounding thud, then ran a hand through his already disheveled hair, letting out a sharp sigh that whistled through clenched teeth.”

These actions don’t just describe; they perform the emotion for the reader.

5. Show, Don’t Explain, Internal Conflict

A character’s inner turmoil is best displayed through their indecision, their contradictory actions, or even a subtle tremor in their voice, rather than a narrative summation of their dilemma.

Instead of: “He was torn between loyalty to his family and his desire for freedom.”
Try: “His hand hovered over the letter, his fingers tracing the familiar script of his father’s name. Outside, the wind howled, a song of the open road, beckoning him. But the warmth of the hearth, the lingering scent of his mother’s stew, pulled him back, heavy as chains.”

6. Weave in Backstory and Exposition Organically

Instead of a block, drip-feed information. Introduce details when they are most relevant to the current scene, illuminating the present rather than derailing it.

Through Objects: A faded photograph, a scar, a tattered book – these can hint at past events, prompting reader curiosity and allowing for later, more detailed reveals.
Through Reactions: A character’s strong aversion or attraction to something can quickly reveal past trauma or positive experiences that later can be explored.
Through Reflection (Briefly): A character’s internal thoughts might touch on a past event, but it should be a fleeting thought that informs their present action, not a comprehensive history lesson.

7. Use Metaphor and Simile for Impact and Evocation

While these are literary devices, they can be potent “showing” tools by drawing comparisons that evoke a feeling or image in the reader’s mind, rather than stating it plainly.

Instead of: “The silence in the room was awkward.”
Try: “The silence in the room stretched, thin and brittle, like old glass waiting to shatter.”
Instead of: “He felt defeated.”
Try: “His shoulders slumped, a heavy cloak of failure settling over him, pulling him down like anchors.”

8. Leverage Setting and Environment to Reflect Mood and Character

The environment is not just a backdrop; it can be an active participant in your showing. A gloomy, oppressive setting can amplify a character’s despair, a chaotic room can reflect a character’s disordered mind, a meticulously clean one can hint at obsession.

Instead of: “She felt trapped and hopeless in the dreary, oppressive city.”
Try: “The same grey sky pressed down on the city every day, choking out the sun. Alleyways, perpetually slick with an unidentifiable grime, twisted like constricting veins, and the air hung heavy with the smell of stagnant water and old despair. She imagined the concrete walls leaning in, slowly crushing her.”

9. Focus on “Micro-Actions”

Sometimes, the smallest, most granular actions can “show” more than grand gestures. The tilt of a head, the twitch of a lip, a subtle shift in weight – these are the nuances of human behavior.

Instead of: “He was annoyed by her questioning.”
Try: “He exhaled slowly, a faint hiss escaping through the gap in his teeth. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm on the tabletop, barely audible but insistent.”

The Editing Lens: Spotting and Transforming Telling Traps

Avoiding telling isn’t just a first-draft consideration; it’s a fundamental part of the revision process. After you’ve poured your story onto the page, put on your “telling-trap” detector.

Self-Correction Question List:

“Says Who?” Test: Whenever you read an adjective (e.g., “brave,” “beautiful,” “dangerous”) or an emotional label (e.g., “sad,” “angry,” “happy”), ask yourself: “Says who?” Who is making this judgment? Can I show the reader the evidence so they can make the judgment?
“How Does It Feel/Look/Sound/Taste/Smell?” Test: For every abstract statement or emotional declaration, ask yourself: How would this manifest physically? What sensory details define this emotion or situation?
“Could This Be Dialogue?” Test: Is there information being told directly that could be better revealed through a conversation between characters?
“Is This Happening NOW?” Test: Am I stopping the forward momentum of the story to explain something that happened in the past, or should this information be woven into the present action?
“Is There a Stronger Verb/More Specific Noun?” Test: Am I using weak verbs or vague nouns that require adverbs/adjectives to prop them up?
“What’s the Subtext?” Test: Is there an opportunity to imply, rather than state directly, a character’s true feelings or intentions?
“Is This the Reader’s Job or Mine?” Test: Am I doing the interpretive work for the reader, or am I providing them with the raw material to draw their own conclusions? The latter creates a more engaged reader.

Practical Application During Editing:

Search and Destroy Adverbs: While not all adverbs are evil, many of them are the first sign of a telling trap. Search your manuscript for adverbs ending in “-ly” (sadly, quickly, angrily). For each, challenge yourself: Can I replace “walked quickly” with “strode” or “raced”? Can I replace “spoke angrily” with a line of dialogue that shows anger?
Highlight Abstract Nouns and Adjectives: Use your word processor to find words like “happiness,” “sadness,” “bravery,” “difficulty,” “importance.” Then, for each, rewrite the surrounding sentence to demonstrate the concept.
Read Aloud: This simple technique is incredibly powerful. As you read, does the narrative flow? Do you feel immersed, or do you feel like you’re being lectured? Stilted or overtly expository passages will often feel unnatural when spoken.
Targeted Rewrites: Don’t try to fix everything at once. Pick a specific chapter or scene and focus solely on eliminating telling. Identify a paragraph where you’re telling, then brainstorm 3-5 different ways to show that information.
Get Feedback: A trusted beta reader or editor can be invaluable. Ask them specifically: “Are there places where I’m telling instead of showing?” “Did you feel connected to the characters’ emotions, or did I just say they were feeling something?”

The Nuance of Exposition: When Telling Is Necessary (and How to Do It Well)

It’s crucial to understand that “showing” doesn’t mean abandoning all exposition or narrative summary. There are times when judicious “telling” is necessary and even beneficial, particularly for conveying foundational information that doesn’t need to be dramatized. The key is purposeful telling.

When Telling Can Be Effective:

Conveying Background Information Quickly: If a piece of history, a character’s long-established routine, or a distant past event doesn’t directly impact the current scene’s tension or character arc, a brief summary can be efficient.
- Okay Telling: “He had lived in the city for twenty years, a quiet life of routine and solitary pursuits.” (No need to show every single year here).
Transitioning Between Scenes/Time Jumps: A short, declarative sentence or paragraph can bridge gaps in time or location without the need for an elaborate scene.
- Okay Telling: “The months that followed were a blur of intense training, punctuated by fleeting visits to his ailing mother.”
Summarizing Facts or General Truths: Objective information that doesn’t benefit from being dramatized.
- Okay Telling: “The planet Xylos was known for its corrosive atmosphere and dangerous flora.” (Vs. having someone walk around the planet getting burned and attacked to show this.)
Establishing Narrative Voice: Sometimes a narrator’s direct commentary or summary is part of their distinct voice, adding a layer of charming subjectivity. Be aware that this is a stylistic choice and should be consistent.
Setting the Stage (Briefly): A very quick overview to ground the reader before launching into showing.
- Okay Telling: “The annual Harvest Festival was always a time of revelry and excess.” (Then immediately dive into a scene that shows the revelry and excess.)

How to Tell Effectively When Necessary:

Keep it Concise: If you must tell, make it brief. Avoid extended paragraphs of pure exposition.
Integrate it Smoothly: Don’t plonk down an info-dump. Weave it into the narrative flow, perhaps at the beginning or end of a scene, or punctuated by a character’s reaction.
Prioritize Relevance: Only tell information that is essential for the reader’s understanding. If it can be inferred or discovered later, save it.
Maintain Voice: Even when telling, ensure your narrative voice is consistent and engaging.

The ultimate goal isn’t to eliminate all narrative summary, but to ensure that the vital, emotionally resonant, and character-driven moments are shown, allowing the reader to experience them directly.

The Unseen Power of Showing: Why Readers Thrive on Discovery

The difference between a story that “tells” and one that “shows” isn’t merely stylistic; it’s fundamental to reader engagement. When you show, you invite the reader into a partnership. You provide the raw materials – the actions, the dialogue, the sensory details – and they, through their imagination and empathy, construct the experience. This collaborative effort makes the story uniquely theirs.

Think of it like being told about a breathtaking sunset versus witnessing one yourself. Being told “the sunset was beautiful” offers the fact. Witnessing it – seeing the sky bleed from fiery orange to soft violet, feeling the cool air settle, hearing the last birdsong – is an experience that resonates deeply, imprinting itself on memory.

Your job as a writer is not to spoon-feed readers. It’s to sculpt a world with such vivid detail and authentic emotion that they lean forward, eager to explore, discover, and feel it for themselves. Mastering the art of showing is the single most powerful step you can take towards creating narratives that don’t just entertain, but truly captivate and endure. By diligently applying these strategies, you’ll transform your prose from passive reporting into dynamic, unforgettable living experiences.