Show and Tell Continued...

 Following on from our last blog here's a really useful discussion with one of our authors on Showing not Telling and getting inside your character’s head:

Author: I have been working hard to improve my manuscript for the last three months in light of the comments in the report and have a general query.

This relates to getting inside the main character’s head.  I understand that when writing in the third person there are two ways of writing in the character’s voice:
(i)   echoing the character’s thoughts in the narration; and
(ii)  letting the reader hear the character’s internal voice.

Using the last paragraph on page 6 of your ‘Show Not Tell’ notes, I am assuming that an example of (i) would be: What could the old goat have meant? and an example of (ii) would be: He means that it’s going to be me!

I am quite good at using (i) but hadn’t really used (ii) much, if at all.  I would really appreciate some guidance as to how often per scene or chapter I should include Skye’s internal voice.  My concern is if I do it too much it could become intrusive, but I am not sure how to get the balance right.

My opening is currently drafted as follows:

Skye Winters lurched precariously back and forth on the crumbling roof of the church tower as the wind gusted round her.  Night had fallen and her mind whirled.  How did she get here?  Where was ‘here’?  And why was she dressed in her pyjamas?  But of one thing she was sure: the irresistible urge growing within her to jump off the tower!

I could redraft to something like:

Skye Winters lurched precariously back and forth on the crumbling roof of the church tower as the wind gusted round her.  Night had fallen and her mind whirled.  How did I get here?  Where is ‘here’?  Why am I dressed in my pyjamas?  But of one thing she was sure: the irresistible urge growing within her to jump off the tower!

I actually prefer the former version, which I think is stronger, and am having difficulty in seeing the advantage to the latter.

What are your thoughts on this?


Kathryn: What a great question.

There are two ways of including the character’s internal voice – the first, which you prefer, is often known as ‘free indirect’, where the thoughts are in the third person past tense, like the narration itself, and the second, where we actually hear the character’s thoughts in first person present tense, is ‘direct’. Neither of these is ‘correct’ as such, and you certainly don’t need to use both – it’s about finding the method that feels right for your character and story. In contemporary fiction, free indirect is more common and like you, many writers, readers and editors feel that it makes for a more immediate, smoother experience of being inside the character’s head.

As I understand it the opening paragraph in your original version read ‘she had no idea how she’d come to be there’. I think your revised version …

Skye Winters lurched precariously back and forth on the crumbling roof of the church tower as the wind gusted round her.  Night had fallen and her mind whirled.  How did she get here?  Where was ‘here’?  And why was she dressed in her pyjamas?  But of one thing she was sure: the irresistible urge growing within her to jump off the tower!

… works very well. I’d recommend cutting the adverb precariously, and showing in other ways how precarious she is (perhaps her foot slips on the slates etc) - bringing in lots of senses (how cold is it, how does it smell up there etc) is also a good way of getting right inside the character’s experience of the moment. And watch for pacing – perhaps you could introduce the urge to jump off the roof a bit more gradually, building up to it and making it really tense.

Does this help?

Author: Thank you for your comments which are extremely helpful.  I think what you are saying is that if 'free indirect' feels right for my character there is no reason why I cannot stick to it throughout (although I may occasionally use 'direct' if that feels right for the scene).

I like what you suggest in your penultimate paragraph and it is something I can look to improve on throughout the manuscript.  The only issue with bringing in lots of senses will mean lengthening a manuscript which is already too long.  Likewise, with regard to building up to the urge to jump, I understand why you made the suggestion but she actually jumps in (currently) the fourth paragraph and if I build up to the jump that will mean lengthening the first chapter and I am trying to keep it tight.


Kathryn: Again, good question.

With showing/telling and getting inside the character’s head, it’s all about achieving a balance: giving enough rich, sensory detail to make the reader and character feel rooted in the scene without slowing things down too much (although remember that at moments of heightened tension and emotion it can actually be good to slow things down to give the reader time to absorb what’s happening). But ‘showing’ doesn’t have to take up more space; remember that a really strong verb can work hard for you. For instance, if you cut out ‘mind whirled’ (which is shown by the thoughts you’ve included anyway) and the adverb, you have a bit more space:

Skye Winters lurched on the crumbling roof of the church tower as the wind tugged at her. She gripped the slates with numb fingers, straining to see in the darkness. Her pyjamas clung to her, damp with rain.
How had she got here?  Where was ‘here’?  She peered over the edge. It wasn’t far down.
She ought to jump…
What? Where had that come from? It’d be crazy to jump, she’d break her neck!

This won’t be quite right for you and your style, of course, but you can see that it’s not much longer and it’s just one way of introducing extra atmosphere whilst showing the fact that the urge to jump is growing within her rather than telling it.

Show and Tell

We often hear authors ask why they should ‘show’ not ‘tell’, when so much of the published material they read is telling. I’m in the process of reading Ian McEwan’s Enduring Love, and I can’t help but notice just how much he ‘tells’. There’s little dialogue and the reader isn’t really given the opportunity to interpret any given situation as it’s pretty much all told to them.  Yet, I am utterly hooked.

This does go to show that there’s a certain level of literary talent, which can get away with such a thing. You’ll find that most literary fiction is ‘telling’, but it takes an extremely skilled, not to mention, experienced, writer to manage to hook a reader as they’re told a sequence of events. When the writing’s not been developed to that point yet, the importance of ‘showing’ is essential to whether a story will be gripping enough.

So, when is it important to ‘show’ and when to ‘tell’?

To ‘show’ and dramatise everything can slow the pace of a story, and can quite easily end up boring a reader. The main thing is to understand the crucial moments in your story. What are the key turning points in the plot? When are there dramatic emotional moments? Who are the main characters and what are their characteristics and emotional responses? These are all points where ‘showing’ is much more engaging. Less important action can easily be ‘told’ to move the pace along. A reader doesn’t need to know, for example, when a character is getting out of a car and walking up the stairs to open a door, if opening that door doesn’t lead to some kind of significant event or experience.

‘Showing’ and ‘telling’ both need to be done in varying degrees when writing. The key is to recognise which aspects of your story are significant, and which are less so. It’s always a process and something which even experienced writers have trouble with, but to hone these skills could be the difference between a good story, and a great story.