You want to create stories that grab people and pull them right in, right? We all do! That’s what “Show, don’t tell” is all about. It’s not just some fancy writing rule; it’s the secret sauce that brings your words to life, turning plain old stories into experiences you can practically taste and touch.
When you tell, you’re just spilling facts. But when you show, you’re crafting an unforgettable experience. And for us short story writers, where every single word counts, really nailing this is a game-changer. It’s what’s going to make your stories truly resonate with your readers. So, let’s peel back the layers and get into how we can actually do this.
What’s the Real Difference? Facts vs. Feels
To truly get this “showing” thing, we first need to get a firm grasp on the difference between telling and showing.
Telling (Just the Facts, Ma’am): This is straightforward, like when you just state something. It’s quick, but it can be a bit… flat.
* Telling Example: “Eliza was sad.”
Showing (Making You Feel It): This is where you use all those delicious sensory details, actions, conversations, and even what’s going on inside someone’s head, so the reader can figure out what’s happening and experience it right along with the character.
* Showing Example: “Eliza’s shoulders slumped, her gaze glued to the rain streaking down the windowpane, each drop a tiny, shimmering tear. A knot tightened in her chest, making it hard to swallow.”
See the difference? The telling example just gives you a fact. But the showing example? That paints a picture. It makes you feel for Eliza. You don’t just know she’s sad; you feel her sadness. This shift, from just giving information to creating an immersive experience, that’s the absolute bedrock of powerful storytelling.
Master Your Senses: Engage, Don’t Overwhelm
We experience the world through our five senses, right? Your characters do too, and so should your readers. Tapping into the reader’s senses is the quickest way to show. But here’s the trap: don’t just dump a ton of generic descriptions on them. The trick is choosing your sensory details wisely, making them impactful.
Here’s a tip: Tie Sensory Details to What Your Character Experiences or What’s Important to the Story.
Don’t just list everything in a room. Describe what your character notices, or what sets the mood, or what pushes the plot forward.
- Telling: “The room was a mess.”
- Showing: “Wrinkled shirts, discarded like fallen leaves, carpeted the floor. A half-eaten pizza, calcified to its cardboard, sat forlornly on the coffee table, a testament to hurried meals and forgotten resolutions. The air hung thick with the stale scent of unwashed laundry and loneliness.”
- My thoughts on this: Instead of just saying “mess,” we get specific pictures. Those wrinkled shirts, the crusty pizza, the smell of laundry… these details create a sense of neglect or chaos. You see the mess, you don’t just read about it. And those details even give you a hint about the person who lives there.
Another tip: Mix and Match Unusual or Specific Sensory Stuff.
Fresh details really pop. Try to avoid those tired old clichés.
- Telling: “The city was noisy.”
- Showing: “The city breathed a metallic roar, a cacophony of screeching tires and distant, mournful sirens. Beneath it, a faint, sweet tang of frying dough mixed with the acrid fumes of bus exhaust, an unnerving blend of comfort and decay.”
- My thoughts on this: “Metallic roar” and “screeching tires” are way more specific than just “noisy.” And that smell combo – frying dough and bus exhaust – that’s unexpected and layered. It makes you actually feel the city’s conflicting sensations.
Show, Don’t Just Tell, Emotions: Body Talk and Inner Thoughts Beyond Labels
Emotions are at the heart of being human, and they’re central to every character’s journey. Just telling readers a character is “angry” or “happy” is a missed opportunity. Instead, show us the physical signs and what’s going on inside their head.
Here’s a way to do it: Turn Emotions into Visible Body Language and Tiny Expressions.
Focus on specific, concrete actions or physical reactions.
- Telling: “He was furious.”
- Showing: “His jaw clenched so hard a muscle twitched near his temple. Fingers curled into fists at his sides, nails digging crescent moons into his palms. A low, guttural sound, like a broken growl, escaped his throat.”
- My thoughts on this: We don’t see the word “furious,” but we totally get how angry he is because of his tense body, those digging nails, and that growl.
Another way: Let Internal State Shine Through Controlled Thoughts or How They See Things.
Sometimes you need to get inside a character’s head, but even then, how you do it matters. Avoid just stating their feelings.
- Telling: “She felt hopeless.”
- Showing: “The world outside her window seemed to dim, colors muted as if viewed through a frosted pane. Each breath felt like an effort, a struggle against an invisible weight pressing down on her chest. What was the point? The question echoed, hollow, in the cavern of her skull.”
- My thoughts on this: Instead of saying “hopeless,” we see her world warp, we feel her struggle to breathe, and we hear that despairing inner question. This shows hopelessness through its impact on her perception and her thoughts.
Action Speaks Louder: What Characters Do Defines Them
Characters aren’t just what we say they are; they’re what they do. Their actions are powerful, unbiased clues to their personality, what motivates them, and what they believe.
Try this: Show Character Traits Through Specific Actions and Reactions.
Instead of declaring a character is “brave” or “kind,” show them doing something brave or kind.
- Telling: “He was a generous man.”
- Showing: “The old woman shivered, clutching her threadbare shawl tighter. Without a word, he unzipped his worn, but still warm, jacket and draped it over her shoulders, then knelt to tie her loose shoelace, his hands surprisingly gentle.”
- My thoughts on this: Giving away his jacket and gently tying her shoelace? Those actions scream generosity and kindness without me having to label him.
Also, use Action Beats to Add Meaning to Dialogue.
Dialogue is super powerful, but plain dialogue can sometimes be telling. Add brief, meaningful actions (action beats) to reveal underlying emotion or how characters relate to each other.
- Telling: “‘I trusted you!’ she shouted, angry.”
- Showing: “‘I trusted you!’ She hurled the chipped mug against the wall, ceramic shards scattering like sudden, sharp tears across the linoleum. Her voice, though loud, wavered, almost a sob.”
- My thoughts on this: Throwing the mug, those sharp shards, and her voice almost breaking? That amps up the raw emotion. The anger is obvious in what she does, and the hurt in that near-sob.
Dialogue as Your Secret Weapon: Revealing Character and Drama
Dialogue isn’t just about people talking; it’s a major way to show your story. What characters say, how they say it, and even what they don’t say, all reveal layers of who they are, what they want, and what’s going on in the plot.
My advice: Make Dialogue Imply, Not Explain.
Let your characters hint at their opinions, their pasts, or their relationships indirectly through their conversations.
- Telling: “She didn’t like her brother because he always borrowed her money and never paid it back.”
- Showing:
“‘Still owe me twenty from last month, don’t you, Mark?’ she said, her voice tight, not quite a question.
He shrugged, digging in his pocket. ‘Relax, Jen. It’s just money.’
‘Easy for you to say,’ she retorted, snatching the crumpled bill he held out. ‘Some of us actually earn it.'”- My thoughts on this: Just from this little chat, you know about his borrowing habits, his chill attitude, and Jen’s resentment – all without me, the writer, having to butt in and explain it.
Also: Give Each Character a Unique Voice in Their Dialogue.
A character’s voice is as distinct as their fingerprint. It shows their background, education, and personality.
- Telling: “The professor was intelligent and precise in his language, while the street vendor used slang.”
- Showing:
- Professor: “One must endeavor to ascertain the precise semantic nuances lest one inadvertently misrepresent the contextual paradigm.”
- Street Vendor: “Yo, lemme tell ya, this ain’t no five-star joint, but these dogs? Best damn thing you’ll put in your gob all week, capisce?”
- My thoughts on this: The word choices, the sentence structures, the formal vs. informal language – instantly, you know these two characters and their different worlds.
Specificity is Power: Ditch the Vagueness
Vague language usually means you’re telling. But specific, concrete details? Those are inherently showing. The more precise you are, the more vivid the image or experience becomes for your reader.
Try this: Swap Generic Nouns and Adjectives for Specific, Evocative Ones.
General words let the reader come up with their own (vague) image. Specific words lead them right to your vision.
- Telling: “The dog was big and barked fiercely.”
- Showing: “The mastiff, a shaggy brute the color of rusted iron, rose on massive paws, its chest a rumbling thunder before a guttural, earth-shaking series of barks split the air.”
- My thoughts on this: “Mastiff” instead of “dog.” “Shaggy brute the color of rusted iron” instead of “big.” And then that sound – “rumbling thunder,” “guttural, earth-shaking barks” – it makes you hear the sound, not just read about it.
And another one: Use Strong Verbs and Active Voice.
Weak verbs often need adverbs to do their job, which can be telling. Strong, precise verbs, especially in active voice, show action and motion directly.
- Telling: “He walked quickly and shyly into the room.”
- Showing: “He scurried into the room, his gaze fixed on the floor, shoulders hunched as if expecting a blow.”
- My thoughts on this: “Scurried” implies speed and maybe even nervousness without a single adverb. And his body language – fixed gaze, hunched shoulders – that perfectly shows shyness and apprehension.
Metaphor and Simile: Enhancing, Not Replacing, Imagery
Figurative language, when used carefully, is a super powerful tool for showing. It creates connections and adds layers of meaning, turning abstract ideas into something you can really grasp.
My tip: Create Original and Illuminating Metaphors and Similes.
Steer clear of clichés. A good metaphor or simile illuminates a character, setting, or emotion in a fresh way.
- Telling: “Her anger was immense.”
- Showing: “Her anger was a furnace, stoked white-hot, its heat warping the very air around her until it shimmered.”
- My thoughts on this: The “furnace” metaphor makes her anger something you can almost feel – powerful and tangible. And how it “warps the very air”? That shows its immediate, physical impact.
Also: Make Sure Figurative Language Actually Helps the Story.
Every metaphor should deepen understanding, not just make a sentence sound pretty.
- Not so great (telling): “Her mind was a vast ocean, full of swirling thoughts, like a tempest.” (Generic, abstract, doesn’t add much.)
- Better (showing): “Her mind, a tangled knot of fishing lines, snagged on every passing memory, pulling her deeper into the muddy despair.”
- My thoughts on this: That “tangled knot of fishing lines” metaphor? That shows a mind caught and dragged down, really making you feel the struggle with intrusive thoughts and despair with a concrete, painful image.
Scene Composition: How You Frame the Revelation
Beyond just individual sentences, how you build a scene – what you put in, what you leave out, and the order you reveal things – is super important for showing.
Try this: Drop the Reader Right Into the “Middle” of the Action.
Instead of describing everything that led up to something, throw the reader directly into the unfolding moment.
- Telling: “After much deliberation, John resolved to confront his boss.”
- Showing: “John’s palm, slick with sweat, gripped the cold doorknob. His breath hitched—was that his boss’s voice booming from inside? This was it. No turning back now.”
- My thoughts on this: The telling version just gives you a decision. The showing version? It puts you right there in that tense, decisive moment, using sensory details and emotions to convey John’s apprehension and commitment.
Also: Use Setting Details to Mirror or Hint.
The environment your characters are in is rarely just wallpaper. It can show their inner state or foreshadow what’s coming.
- Telling: “The house was old and neglected, just like its owner.”
- Showing: “The porch swing creaked dolefully in the unmoving air, its chains corroded with rust. Tendrils of ivy, thick as ancient ropes, strangled the gutters, and the paint, once a cheerful yellow, peeled away in brittle flakes, revealing the grey, despairing wood beneath.”
- My thoughts on this: All those specific details of decay – the creaking swing, rusted chains, strangling ivy, peeling paint – they show the house’s neglect and subtly hint at the old owner’s declining state without me saying it directly.
The Art of Omission: Trust Your Reader
Sometimes, the most powerful showing comes from what you don’t say. It lets the reader connect the dots and figure things out, which makes them way more engaged.
My advice: Leave Out the Obvious; Focus on the Undercurrent.
Don’t repeat what’s already clear. Trust your reader to be smart.
- Telling: “She saw her ex-boyfriend, which made her feel awkward, so she quickly turned away.”
- Showing: “Across the crowded bistro, his laugh cut through the din, a sound she hadn’t heard in years but instantly recognized. Her fork clanged against the plate. She busied herself with the wine list, though her eyes blurred over the words.”
- My thoughts on this: The reader totally gets the “awkward” and “turning away” from the clanging fork, the blurring vision, and the sudden interest in the wine list. Her reaction is shown through her actions and immediate physical sensation, implying her discomfort.
And another one: Use White Space and Scene Breaks for Implied Time or Focus Shifts.
Sometimes, just having a break lets the reader’s imagination fill in the gaps and process what’s happening.
- Instead of: “After that intense argument, a week passed, and they were still not speaking.”
- Consider:
“The door slammed shut, rattling the old house to its foundations.
***
A week later, dust motes danced in the lone shaft of sunlight piercing the closed blinds. He still hadn’t touched her side of the bed.”- My thoughts on this: That scene break, plus the detail of the untouched bed, powerfully shows the continuing distance without needing to explicitly say time passed or how their argument was going. You feel the unresolved tension.
Revision: Where Showing Truly Happens
Showing almost never happens perfectly in a first draft. It’s something you craft carefully during revision.
Try this: Read Aloud to Catch Telling Passages.
Your ears often pick up what your eyes miss. Telling usually sounds flat or like you’re lecturing.
- How to do it: As you read, if a sentence sounds like you’re explaining something to a kid, it’s probably telling. Mark it and fix it later.
Another tip: Use the “Lacks Resonance” Filter.
If a passage doesn’t create a strong image, feeling, or understanding, it’s probably telling. If it doesn’t make the reader feel or see or hear something specific, it needs showing.
- Ask yourself: “Does this sentence spark a sensory experience or an emotional understanding in the reader, or is it just giving information?” If it’s just information, revise it.
And finally: Challenge Every Adverb and Abstract Adjective.
Often, an adverb or a vague adjective (like “very,” “really,” “sad,” “good”) is a sign that you’re telling instead of showing. Can you replace it with a stronger verb or a specific physical detail?
- Example 1: “He ran quickly.” → “He bolted.” or “He sprinted, a blur in the twilight.”
- Example 2: “She was very happy.” → “A wide, unrestrained smile split her face, and a joyful laugh bubbled up, light and airy.”
The Magic of Immersion
Mastering “Show, don’t tell” unlocks a deep connection between your story and your reader. It transforms your writing from just a report of events into a vibrant tapestry of experience. This isn’t about ditching all explanation, because sometimes you need a little telling for pacing or background. It’s about being purposeful. It’s about choosing to draw the reader in, making them a part of the story, not just a bystander.
Every precise verb, every sensory detail, every subtle piece of dialogue, and every carefully constructed scene works to pull the reader deeper into your world. This is the real magic of writing: conjuring worlds and emotions from mere words, letting the reader not just understand, but feel. Invest in this art, and your short stories won’t just be read; they’ll be truly lived.