Showing Not Telling by Nancy L. Eady

 As writers, we are constantly bombarded with the advice “Show don’t tell.” If you’re reading this post hoping for the magic secret that makes you automatically show instead of tell, I apologize for not having it. But I did notice something today that might help.

As we get ready for our house to sell, we are stumbling across various odds and ends. Each item we find, and our reaction to it, says something about the members of my family as individuals, as does the furniture we cherish versus the furniture we only use. If my family were characters in a novel, descriptions of the items we find and our reaction to them would be part of how the novelist could sketch out our character.

Meet Ruffy, who arrived at our house when my daughter was about 6 as part of a set of three Build-a-Bear animals she acquired over the course of a year. When we found Ruffy today, my daughter (now 21) couldn’t help giving her a hug. What would that say about a character in your novel? 

While admittedly she has seen better days, this Raggedy Ann doll has been well and truly loved. My aunt made Raggedy Ann for me when I was a small child, and I still have her. I tried to mend the neck and legs when I was in high school because she was in even worse shape than she is now. My sewing skills obviously were lacking. That doll caught many silent tears and comforted me for more years than I like to count. She now resides on my closet shelf. (I pulled her out specifically for this photograph.) And yes, she will be making the move to Huntsville with us.

What might this small vignette from our study/dining room show a reader if it was described in a novel? Letting a reader know that the grandfather clock belonged to my husband’s parents, while the pitcher and washbasin belonged to his grandmother, shows them something about us. So does the fact that the round table the washbasin is sitting on probably won't make the move.  (Underneath the tablecloth, it is falling apart.  We bought it about seven years ago.)  The shoe on the dining room table might mean we’re messy, careless, or easily distracted. In our case, what it really means is that my daughter left her shoes in the hallway to the garage, where one of them was discovered by our youngest dog Max, who is only one year old and loves to chew. We barely rescued it from his clutches in time; he had retreated to his carrier to begin a peaceful afternoon of chewing until we interrupted him. In a novel, a character’s noticing the presence of the shoe, or another character’s leaving the shoe in place for days, gives the reader a clearer picture of some facet of their personality. 

So, as I edit my work, I’m going to look for places where I might be able to use settings to help with characterization and see if it gets me closer to that ever-elusive goal of showing, not telling. 

What suggestions do you have that help with showing rather than telling?