How to Show, Don’t Tell, in Novels

by

The mantra “Show, Don’t Tell” echoes through every creative writing classroom and editor’s desk, yet its true power often remains elusive. It’s more than just a stylistic preference; it’s the fundamental principle that breathes life into words, transforming flat narratives into immersive experiences. Telling is a shortcut, a summary. Showing is an invitation, a journey. When you tell, you dictate. When you show, you allow your reader to discover, to feel, to participate. This isn’t just about avoiding exposition; it’s about crafting a visceral, immediate connection between your narrative and your audience. It’s the difference between hearing about a character’s grief and feeling the ache in your own chest as you witness it. Mastering this art elevates your writing from competent to captivating, ensuring your stories don’t just exist on the page, but resonate in the reader’s mind long after the final word.

The Core Distinction: Telling vs. Showing

Before we delve into the mechanics, let’s firmly establish the difference.

Telling is when the author summarizes information for the reader. It’s direct, efficient, but often sterile. It uses abstract nouns and adverbs to describe pre-digested emotions or states.

  • Example of Telling: “She was sad.”
  • Example of Telling: “He was angry.”
  • Example of Telling: “The house was old and neglected.”

Showing is when the author presents sensory details, actions, dialogue, and internal thoughts that allow the reader to infer or experience the emotion, characteristic, or situation directly. It engages the senses and evokes emotion without explicitly naming it.

  • Example of Showing: “Her shoulders slumped, and a single tear traced a path down her cheek.” (Implies sadness)
  • Example of Showing: “His jaw tightened, and his knuckles went white around the coffee mug.” (Implies anger)
  • Example of Showing: “Crumbling paint peeled from the porch railings, and ancient ivy strangled the warped wooden gables.” (Implies old and neglected)

The goal is not to eliminate all telling (sometimes a brief summary is necessary for pacing or clarity), but to prioritize showing, especially in pivotal moments, character introductions, and emotional beats.

Concrete Techniques for Showing

Achieving “showing” is not about a single trick but a constellation of interwoven techniques.

1. Harnessing Sensory Details: The Foundation of Immersion

Our world is experienced through our senses: sight, sound, smell, taste, touch. Your novel’s world should be no different. Instead of telling the reader about a setting or experience, show them by engaging their sensory perceptions.

  • Sight: Don’t just say a room is cluttered. Describe the teetering stacks of vintage magazines, the overflowing ashtray on the forgotten armchair, the coat rack collapsing under the weight of threadbare scarves.
    • Instead of: “The air in the forest was cold.”
    • Show: “A biting wind, smelling of damp earth and pine needles, knifed through the gaps in her thick wool cloak, raising goosebumps on her exposed wrists.”
  • Sound: Don’t just say a street was noisy. Describe the blare of distant car horns, the rhythmic clack of high heels on pavement, the tinny chorus of an unseen street musician’s saxophone.
    • Instead of: “The argument was loud.”
    • Show: “His voice rose, a sharp, ragged sound that scraped against the silence of the room. A second later, the unmistakable smash of ceramic against a wall echoed from behind the closed door.”
  • Smell: Smell is a potent trigger for memory and emotion. Use it to evoke atmosphere or character traits.
    • Instead of: “The kitchen smelled good.”
    • Show: “The air in the kitchen hung thick and sweet with the aroma of caramelized onions and melting butter, a comforting promise of the feast to come.”
  • Taste: While less frequent, taste can ground a character in their environment or reveal their experience.
    • Instead of: “The soup was bad.”
    • Show: “He spooned a mouthful of the tepid liquid, gagging as the bitter, metallic tang of instant broth coated his tongue, leaving a dry, chemically aftertaste.”
  • Touch: Temperature, texture, pressure – these physical sensations connect the reader directly to the character’s experience.
    • Instead of: “She was nervous.”
    • Show: “Her palms were slick with a sudden, cold sweat, and the worn fabric of her skirt felt rough and abrasive against her shivering thighs.”

2. Action and Body Language: The Unspoken Language of Character

How a character moves, or doesn’t move, speaks volumes. Instead of telling the reader a character is brave, show them facing down danger. Instead of telling they’re shy, show them avoiding eye contact and fidgeting.

  • Emotional States:
    • Instead of: “She was embarrassed.”
    • Show: “A hot flush crept up her neck, staining her cheeks a furious scarlet. She hunched her shoulders, suddenly desperate to melt into the floorboards.”
    • Instead of: “He was bored.”
    • Show: “His gaze drifted to the ceiling, then the window, then back to the speaker, his fingers drumming an impatient tattoo on the armrest, avoiding the presenter’s eyes.”
  • Character Traits:
    • Instead of: “He was a powerful man.”
    • Show: “When he entered the room, every conversation lagged, heads turning instinctively in his direction. He moved with a deliberate, unhurried grace, holding himself as if the very air belonged to him.”
    • Instead of: “She was meticulous.”
    • Show: “She ran a gloved finger along the bookshelf, her brow furrowing slightly at the barely perceptible film of dust, before retrieving a small, velvet cloth from her pocket to polish the spine of a first edition.”
  • Reactions to Events:
    • Instead of: “He was surprised by the news.”
    • Show: “His eyes, wide and unblinking, stared past her, fixated on some unseen point. The teacup in his hand tilted precariously, its contents sloshing over the rim and scalding his fingers, yet he didn’t flinch.”

3. Dialogue: Revelation Through Conversation

Dialogue is a gold mine for showing. What characters say, how they say it, and what they don’t say, can reveal personality, relationships, mood, and plot points far more effectively than direct narration.

  • Character Personality/Background:
    • Instead of: “He was educated and used sophisticated language.”
    • Show: ” ‘Indeed, the inherent fallibility of human perception poses a significant impediment to the accurate exegesis of empirical data,’ he intoned, adjusting his spectacles.”
    • Instead of: “She was practical and no-nonsense.”
    • Show: ” ‘Look, pretty words won’t put food on the table. What’s the plan to get it done? And when?’ she cut in, her voice blunt and devoid of pretense.”
  • Relationships:
    • Instead of: “They had an antagonistic relationship.”
    • Show: ” ‘Oh, look who decided to grace us with her presence,’ Liam drawled, a smirk playing on his lips. ‘Didn’t think you’d leave your fortress, Andromeda.’ Amelia’s eyes narrowed. ‘And I didn’t think you’d survive a week outside your mother’s apron strings, Liam. Yet here we are.’ “
  • Subtext and Unspoken Emotions:
    • Instead of: “She was trying to hide her anger.”
    • Show: ” ‘I’m perfectly fine,’ she said, her voice a thin, brittle string that vibrated with contained intensity. Her gaze was fixed somewhere past his left ear.”
  • Pacing and Tension: Sharp, quick dialogue can increase tension. Long, rambling dialogue can showcase a character’s rambling nature or a relaxed atmosphere.

4. Inner Monologue/Thoughts: The Window to the Character’s Mind

While narration tells, internal monologue shows. Allow your reader to enter your character’s head, witnessing their unfiltered thoughts, doubts, fears, and observations as they occur. This is showing, because the reader is experiencing the process of thought, not being told the conclusion of it.

  • Instead of: “She was worried about the interview.”
  • Show: (From character’s POV) “My stomach churned, a knot of dread tightening with every tick of the clock. What if I forgot my answers? What if my voice cracked? Please, don’t let me stammer. Please, don’t let them see how terrified I am.“
  • Instead of: “He doubted his decision.”
  • Show: (From character’s POV) “The signed contract lay heavy in his hand, heavier still in his conscience. Was this truly the right path? Could he trust them? No, he’d seen their eyes, calculated and cold. But what alternative did he have? The questions spiraled, each one tightening the vice around his chest.”

5. Specificity and Detail: The Enemy of Generality

Vague language is the ally of telling. Specific, concrete details are the backbone of showing. Don’t use a general term when a precise one exists.

  • Instead of: “The man walked into the bad neighborhood.”
  • Show: “The man trudged down the alley, past overflowing dumpster bins, their stench of stale beer and rotting food thick in the humid air. Graffiti-scarred brick walls loomed on either side, and the broken glass from smashed bottles crunched beneath his worn sneakers.”
  • Instead of: “Her room was messy.”
  • Show: “Used coffee mugs with dried rings stained the bedside table, a tangled pile of clothes lay half-in, half-out of the open dresser drawers, and an unread textbook served as a coaster for a wilting houseplant.”
  • Instead of: “He ate a lot.”
  • Show: “He devoured the plate, his fork scraping against the ceramic with a frantic hunger. Within minutes, the last potato was speared, the last morsel of chicken wiped clean with a crust of bread, and he leaned back, patting his distended belly with a satisfied groan.”

6. Subtext and Inference: Trusting Your Reader

One of the most powerful forms of “showing” is to present facts and allow the reader to draw their own conclusions. Don’t spoon-feed them the moral or the emotional takeaway. Let them infer it.

  • Instead of: “He felt betrayed and angry at his friend.”
  • Show: “He watched his friend laugh, the sound grating on his ears. A memory flashed: the promise whispered under the moon, the handshake sealed with earnest eyes. Now, that same friend stood triumphant, holding the very prize he had been promised, without so much as a glance in his direction. He turned his back, his jaw clenching so hard that a vein pulsed visibly in his temple.” (The details show betrayal and anger without naming them.)
  • Instead of: “The protagonist was a good leader.”
  • Show: “When the storm hit, panic rippled through the crew. But Captain Eva’s voice, calm and steady over the roar of the wind, cut through the chaos. ‘Batten down the hatches! Rivera, take the helm. Chen, secure the aft line!’ Each instruction was precise, her eyes scanning the churning waves with an unflappable focus. In moments, the frantic energy dissipated, replaced by a synchronicity of coordinated action, every crew member moving with renewed purpose under her command.”

7. Figurative Language (Metaphor, Simile): Painting Pictures

While not a substitute for concrete detail, well-placed metaphors and similes can amplify sensory experience and emotional resonance, transforming abstract concepts into tangible imagery. They show a resemblance rather than tell about a characteristic.

  • Instead of: “The man was very intimidating.”
  • Show: “The man loomed in the doorway, his shadow swallowing the light, a silent predator waiting for its prey.” (Metaphor)
  • Instead of: “Her fear was overwhelming.”
  • Show: “Fear coiled in her stomach like a venomous snake, its icy grip tightening with every creak of the floorboards.” (Simile)
  • Instead of: “He was very nervous.”
  • Show: “Butterflies, each with leaden wings, battered against the walls of his stomach. His heart hammered like a trapped bird against his ribs.” (Metaphor)

8. Pacing and Scene Construction: Guiding the Reader’s Experience

The way you structure your scenes and control the flow of information is also a form of showing.

  • Slow Pacing for Detail/Emotion: When you want the reader to feel an emotion or experience a moment intensely, slow down the narrative. Expand on sensory details, internal thoughts, and precise actions.
    • Telling: “The news made her heart race.”
    • Showing (slowed pace): “The phone slipped from her numb fingers, clattering against the polished tiles like a broken bone. Breath hitched in her throat, refusing to descend. Her vision blurred at the edges, the vibrant colors of the room draining to a monochrome haze. A high-pitched keening sound filled the air, and it took her a long, terrible moment to realize it was coming from her own lips.”
  • Fast Pacing for Action/Movement: For action sequences, quick sentences, strong verbs, and minimal descriptors keep the momentum.
    • Telling: “They fought quickly and intensely.”
    • Showing (fast pace): “He lunged. She ducked. A blur of steel. He countered. Blade scraped blade. A swift kick. He stumbled, recovered. Gritted teeth. Another thrust. Strike. Parry. Feint. They were a whirlwind of precise, deadly motion.”

When to Bend the Rule: Strategic Telling

While “Show, Don’t Tell” is a foundational principle, it’s not an absolute commandment. There are instances where telling is not only acceptable but necessary for effective storytelling.

  1. Summarizing Backstory/Information: You don’t need to show every single moment of a character’s childhood. Sometimes a brief summary of their past is essential to move the plot forward without bogging down the pacing.
    • Example: “He had spent years honing his craft in the remote monasteries of the Silent Peaks, mastering ancient forms of combat that were all but forgotten in the modern world.” (This tells the reader about his training without showing every sparring session.)
  2. Bridging Time or Scene Gaps: To transition between scenes or skip mundane periods of time.
    • Example: “The next three weeks passed in a blur of endless paperwork and grueling late-night meetings.” (Tells us time passed and what happened generally.)
  3. Establishing Minor Characters/Details: For characters or elements that are not central to the current scene or plot, a quick telling can suffice.
    • Example: “The innkeeper, a stout woman with a perpetually flour-dusted apron, greeted them with a hearty laugh.” (Quick tell about her appearance and demeanor.)
  4. Maintaining Pacing: Sometimes, showing every minute detail would halt the narrative. A swift telling can keep the story moving.
    • Example: “After several failed attempts, they finally managed to open the ancient lock.” (Doesn’t delve into every fumbled key and frustrating click.)
  5. Exposition of Abstract Concepts: For complex philosophical ideas or intricate systems within your world, direct explanation might be clearer than trying to show every nuance.
    • Example: “The arcane magic of this realm operated on principles of sympathetic resonance, where the practitioner formed a spiritual link with the desired outcome.”

The key is strategic telling. Use it sparingly, intentionally, and only when showing would be inefficient, redundant, or detrimental to pacing. When in doubt, lean towards showing.

Common Pitfalls and How to Avoid Them

Even with the best intentions, writers often stumble into common “telling” traps.

  1. Adverb Overkill: Relying on adverbs (-ly words) to convey emotion or action often signals telling.
    • Tell: “She walked angrily.”
    • Show: “She stomped, each footfall an angry punctuation mark on the pavement.”
    • Tell: “He spoke nervously.”
    • Show: “His words tumbled out, tripping over each other, his voice a reedy whisper.”
  2. Abstract Nouns: Using words like ‘sadness,’ ‘joy,’ ‘fear,’ ‘love’ directly.
    • Tell: “A wave of sadness washed over her.”
    • Show: “Her breath caught, a sharp, ragged sound, and the world seemed to tilt, all color draining from it until only the cold, hard ache in her chest remained.”
  3. Filter Words: Phrases that tell the reader the character is experiencing something, rather than letting them experience it directly. Common filter words include: saw, heard, felt, realized, decided, knew, appeared to be, seemed to be, noticed, watched, thought, looked.
    • Tell (with filter): “She saw the man run down the street.”
    • Show (without filter): “The man sprinted down the street.”
    • Tell (with filter): “He felt a chill.”
    • Show (without filter): “A chill raised goosebumps on his arms.”
    • Tell (with filter): “She realized he was lying.”
    • Show (without filter): “He averted his gaze, a nervous tic pulling at the corner of his mouth. A cold certainty settled in her gut: he was lying.”
  4. Character Labels: Directly stating what a character is like.
    • Tell: “He was a lazy person.”
    • Show: “He spent most of his days sprawled on the couch, the remote control abandoned on his chest, a half-eaten bag of chips spilling crumbs beside his head. The pile of unwashed dishes in the sink was now taller than the faucet.”
  5. Emotional Declarations: The character explicitly naming their own emotion in dialogue instead of showing it through action or body language.
    • Tell: ” ‘I’m so angry!’ he yelled.”
    • Show (better): “His face flushed, veins throbbing at his temples. ‘How dare you!’ he roared, slamming his fist against the table, making the glasses jump.” (If he needs to say “I’m angry,” then the preceding actions build to that declaration.)

Refining Your Craft: The Revision Process

Mastering “Show, Don’t Tell” is often less about brilliant first drafts and more about meticulous revision.

  1. Active Reading and Self-Correction: Read your manuscript specifically looking for instances of telling.
    • Highlight adverbs: Can the verb be stronger to incorporate the adverb’s meaning?
    • Circle abstract nouns: Can you replace “sadness” with tears, slumping shoulders, a whispered lament?
    • Underline filter words: Can you rephrase the sentence to remove the filter and plunge the reader directly into the experience?
    • Spot generalities: Where have you used a vague descriptor (e.g., “beautiful,” “big,” “good”) instead of concrete details?
    • Check character labels: Did you ever say “she was brave” instead of showing her face a fear?
  2. The “How Do I Know?” Test: For any statement you make (e.g., “She was worried”), ask yourself: How do I know she’s worried? Then, describe those sensory details, actions, or thoughts.
    • “She was worried.”
    • How do I know? “Her hands fidgeted. Her gaze darted to the clock every few seconds. She chewed on her bottom lip until it was raw.” These become your showing details.
  3. Read Aloud: Reading your work aloud can highlight passages that feel stiff or abstract. You’ll often notice where you’ve summarized rather than immersed.

  4. Seek Feedback: A fresh pair of eyes can spot telling where you, the author, are too close to the material to see it. Ask your beta readers or critique partners specifically to watch for instances of telling.

Conclusion: The Immersive Power of Showing

“Show, Don’t Tell” is not merely a stylistic flourish; it’s the fundamental operating system of compelling narrative. It’s about respecting your reader’s intelligence, inviting them into the story rather than dictating it to them. When you show, you transform passive observation into active participation. Your characters cease to be mere puppets articulated by a narrator and become living, breathing entities whose pain, joy, and conflicts resonate deeply. Your settings are no longer backdrops but living environments that influence mood and action.

The journey to mastering this skill is continuous. It requires constant vigilance, a keen eye for detail, and a willingness to revise and refine. But the reward is immense: stories that leave an indelible mark, narratives that don’t just convey information but evoke profound sensations, and readers who don’t just understand your characters, but feel them in their bones. Embrace the challenge, and your writing will transcend the page, becoming a truly immersive experience.