Show and Tell

Every writer has been told by a writing teacher or editor to SHOW rather than TELL.

A simple way to understand this precept is to use synonyms. To “tell” something is to summarize  it. To “show” something is to illustrate it. In both fiction and nonfiction, if you want the reader to feel an emotional impact, show the reader what is going on. This is harder than simply summarizing, but always well worth the effort.

Here is an example of the difference between telling and showing from my first novel, Pandora’s Genes. The first passage is a summary of a short but crucial scene about halfway through the book. The second passage is the scene as it appeared in the published book.

Passage A:

Zach was sent away as his wife, Leya went into labor. He knew that she was in danger of dying and was very upset. To take his mind off his anxiety and sorrow he chopped wood.

Passage B

    It was a cloudy summer day, not really hot, but so humid with an impending rainstorm that the least exertion left him sweating and feeling tired. He positioned a log on the chopping block, brought the axe up above and behind his head, then swung it, thunk. He did this again and again, the movements easy from long years of practice. Wood chips flew around him, stinging his bare chest and arms. Cut wood piled up around him, and his breathing grew heavy as his arms began to tremble with the effort. He did not dare to stop, afraid to lose the comforting sound of the axe blade biting into the wood.

   After a time, his muscles stopped responding, and he was forced to rest for a moment. The sounds of the woods became deafening. He heard birds calling their territorial limits to one another; insects scuttling in the leaves; the warm breeze before the storm, pushing the branches of trees. He shivered as the wind took the sweat covering his skin. Sighing, he sat on a log and examined the axe minutely. He had made it himself from an old pre-Change axe blade, and a stout piece of hardwood he had carved himself, carefully fitting it to hold the metal, and binding the two pieces together with strong new-vine ropes. The ancient blade was as shiny as it must have been when it was new: he took care to keep it clean with fish-oil, and sharp on his whetstones. There were nicks and scores in the metal, but it was probably, he thought, in nearly as good condition as when it had been made, untold years ago. He ran his fingers over the blade and looked for signs of wear on the handle. This was the fourth handle he had made for the blade, carefully carving and polishing during long nights in the cabin while Leya read or worked on her projects from the Garden.

   He stood, already feeling stiff, and began to gather the wood he had cut into bundles of seven to ten each, tying them carefully with new-vine, and placing them to the side of his work area, in a small shelter he had constructed. A squirrel suddenly clambered down from a tree behind him. He turned, startled, to see the little animal poised on its hind legs, its nose vibrating with its breath, every nerve in its body stretched as it tried to sense possible danger. It looked at him, its black eyes as shiny as the axe blade, then just as abruptly it ran up the tree and disappeared along a leafy limb.

   Zach picked up the axe and began again to swing it, cutting the wood as if he could cut out everything else that was happening. Never had he worked so long and so hard. Soon there would be enough wood cut to last the Garden through the entire winter. And there was already more than enough for him and Leya. He became aware of another sound and realized that it was his own breath, rasping, wet, and too rapid. Still he did not stop, not even when the raindrops finally began to fall, washing away the dirt and sweat, then soaking him as a summer cloudburst developed. He could scarcely see what he was doing through the falling water, but still he swung the axe back and up, then down, splitting each precisely placed log as he did so, stopping only to move more wood into position.

   "Zach!"

   He turned, the axe half-raised, poised to split another log. Her head and shoulders covered with a dark shawl, the old woman stood looking at him. Her face was composed and without expression, and as soon as he saw it he knew the worst had happened.

*****

When you have finished writing a story or novel, go over it for places where you can change summaries into illustrations. For example, if you have a character “crying hysterically,” think how you might show that. (Jodie’s chin began to tremble and her mouth turned white as she bit down on her lower lip. But the trembling spread, from her face to her throat, and then to her lungs as she began to gasp, tears now spilling down her cheeks and onto her hands.) 

One of the greatest compliments I've received about my writing was in a review by Eoghann Irving of my short, gritty novella, The Ptorrigan Lode, which begins: 

If you want a great example of showing and not telling, then this is it.

As a short story it doesn't have much space in which to both create a futuristic world and set up a plot and yet the author Kathryn Lance makes it looks easy.

It wasn't easy, of course, but I'm glad it worked. 

For more on the difference between showing and telling, see #2 in my five-point revision checklist.

45. Five Truths About Researching a Novel

1. All writing requires research. This is as true for fiction as for nonfiction, even if you’re just writing a short story. I was once assigned to write a short story about Jack Frost for a children’s “horror” anthology. All I knew about Jack Frost was that in some mythologies “he” represents winter. Before writing, I spent some time looking up legends of Jack Frost, to get an idea of what “he” might look and act like. I didn’t use much of the material, but it made me more comfortable in my depiction of Jack Frost as a mischievous but dangerous sprite, which made the story easier to write.

                                Jack Frost

2. You must always sweat the small stuff. As a novelist, your job is to make the world your characters live in as believable as possible. For those who write historical or present-day fiction, it’s important to to at least touch on the minutiae of daily life. What do your characters have for breakfast? What are their leisure-time activities? In science fiction, these realistic details make your world more relatable. In my sf novella The Ptorrigan Lode, which takes place on a space station, there was not much room for detail, but I tried as best I could to give a flavor of the clothing (working women wear chadors, while tourists wear revealing street dress) and eating habits (they “dial up” food at home, and also visit restaurants).

3. Every detail must be followed up. In Pandora’s Genes and Pandora’s Children, I gave long, hard thought to what life would be like in a future world with none of the conveniences we take for granted. I did quite a bit of research on medieval life, and even bought a book on “the forgotten crafts.” Since the Pandora’s world has no petroleum products, my characters use “fish-oil” in lamps. I envisioned some sort of mutant fish that were used for this purpose, but neglected to ask myself how these fish were harvested and processed. Was this done by each household, or was there a small industry? I didn’t think of those questions till they were pointed out by an attentive reader. I have since worked out the answers for myself, and will use them in the third book in the series, which I am now writing

4. No research is ever wasted. As a former writer of nonfiction books, I have researched many, many subjects in depth. One of the topics I used to write about is sports, and I’m finding that my in-depth knowledge of American professional sports is coming in handy while writing the Pandora’s sequel. So is my first-hand  knowledge of the “flyover” parts of this country, which I visited many times on cross-country drives and bus trips when I was younger. Which leads me to:

5: Everything is research.

 

Technorati Tags: Pandora's Genes,The Ptorrigan Lode,research for fiction

41. The key to creating three-dimensional secondary characters

In previous posts I talked about several ways to flesh out your main characters, such as basing them on real-life people and fine-tuning your characters’ motivation. But what about secondary characters? For me, the main key to animating less-important characters is visual.

                                                 

Cut out pictures. This sounds like something you would do in grade school, but it can be helpful in writing a novel, especially one with many characters. Flipping through magazine ads may give you a hint. Once you see a photo that screams: “That’s Celeste!” it may also be easier to grasp her personality.

Think of famous actors who might play the character and then write for that actor. A colleague who has written a successful mystery confided that she was able to write an important secondary character only when she visualized a specific actress in the role. Once she had done that, she could also “hear” the voice, and the character became real to her.

Give your character a quirk. In Pandora’s Genes and its sequel, Pandora’s Children, several generals in the Principal’s army play a role in the story. To keep them straight in my mind, and also to help readers keep them straight, I gave each general a trait that was noted most times they appeared. For example, Ralf is elderly and has a stutter; Marcus dresses like a dandy and spends excessive time on personal grooming; while Eric, who in my mind looks like Hugh Jackman, is hot-headed and impulsive.

It is important to keep the quirks from taking over, or you can end up with a character who is nothing but a collection of tics.

Let the character’s appearance do double duty. The evil drug dealer in The Ptorrigan Lode is described as having a “patchwork face,” which I explain early on is the result of radiation burns. This gives us an idea of how he looks—and also how he has lived his life.

In another example, readers tell me that Ivory, the teenager who befriends Peej and Annie in Going to See Grassy Ella, is a very memorable character. I knew that I wanted her to be very different from the two sisters, and also to have an innocence about her. Ivory became real to me when I began to visualize her as a former student in one of my Freshman English classes, a very bright girl who dressed in what she thought was the height of punk fashion: ripped black clothing, hair dyed blue on one side, the other side of her head shaved; and multiiple piercings on her ear, nose, cheeks, and lips.

Next week I will answer some questions readers have sent or asked in these posts. Please feel free to ask anything you’d like to know, either about my books or about writing. Post a comment here, or email me through the link to my website.

Technorati Tags: Novel writing,secondary characters

39. Where does a novel begin?

There are two main considerations in beginning a novel. First--WHERE do you begin? And second, HOW do you begin? This week we’ll look at the first consideration.

A rule of thumb is to begin your story in a place where something compelling happens. A friend of mine who writes young adult adventure novels advises: “Begin the day after everything changed.”

One way to look at it is to decide what the most important conflict in the story is and begin with an illustration of that conflict. That is what I did when I began Pandora’s Genes. As I mentioned in a previous post, it started with a dream, in which I saw a good man reluctantly doing something that he knew was wrong.

You could argue that the story actually begins when he makes the decision to go against his conscience, but the real story is in the consequences of that action as they unfold, and therefore that is where I started the novel.

Peter Falk as Columbo

In many murder mysteries, the story begins when a body is found, or at the moment of a murder. This decision can vary depending on the sort of mystery it is. If it’s a procedural, you may well begin with the murder, or the events leading up to the murder. Think of the old TV show Columbo, in which all the suspense lay in seeing how Columbo would figure out the events that we, the viewers, had already witnessed.

In other mysteries, the story may begin when the detective first learns of the murder, which may even have been committed long in the past. In this case, readers will see clues as the detective does and put the pieces together with him.

In my science fiction novella, The Ptorrigan Lode, I began with the main character already in trouble, in danger of dying from drug withdrawal on a space station. It is only in the course of the story that we learn how he became addicted in the first place, and why he is on a space station.

A story that begins like this is said to start in media res—in the middle of the action, and it’s long been a common technique with science fiction. Experienced science fiction readers know to be patient and the questions they have about technology or terminology will eventually be answered, either directly or implicitly. This technique is often used in mainstream fiction as well.

Other genres have other conventions for where to begin a story. Romances often begin either at the time or just before the first meeting of the star-crossed lovers. Here again, it’s important to get the story going before worrying about the events that led up to it.

The most important thing to keep in mind is that you must begin with some sort of action—physical or emotional. It’s tempting to want to explain how your main character arrived at the action or decision point that actually starts the story, but that’s a tactic that is likely to lose your readers. The best way to explain your character is to show us how she reacts to events throughout the story.

Next week: HOW to begin a novel.

Technorati Tags: novel writing,beginning a novel,novel structure

22. Novel writing: Trust your subconscious

The most important thing I have learned in forty-plus years as a professional writer is to trust my subconscious. Not only does it give me entire plots in dreams, it is apparently hard at work on my fiction even when I’m doing something else, like cooking or leading bird walks.

                                                     

In a previous post I mentioned that some writers of seemingly-intricately plotted works maintain that they never use an outline. I believe them, because I am quite sure that their subconscious does the intricate plotting for them.In that same post I showed how instead of a formal outline I jot down notes as ideas for the novel occur. Those ideas come from my subconscious, which is always several steps ahead of my conscious mind.

For example, my subconscious often plants things I will need later in a story. When I was writing Going to See Grassy Ella, my YA novel, I had Peej, the heroine, get motion sickness in a very early scene. At the time, I thought it was just a character point, but it turned out to be a crucial plot point later on, when Peej and her sister are trying to escape from kidnappers.

As far as I knew when I was writing Pandora’s Genes, Zach was not directly based on anyone I knew. But my subconscious may have known better, because thirty years after I had last seen him, an old boyfriend turned up in my life to thank me for writing about him. He had read the book, read the description of Zach, and concluded that I had based the relationship between Zach and Evvy on him. At first all I could think was, “You’re so vain I’ll bet you think this book is about you,” but on further thought I realized that he was probably, in part, right.  

In the case of The Ptorrigan Lode, my gritty sf novella, I knew in a general way that the protagonist, Jay, would be okay in the end,  but wasn't quite sure how that would happen, until it happened. Jay’s literal transformation was as big a surprise to me as it has been to many of my readers. It was like a light going on in darkness when I realized that my subconscious had been leading me to this denouement from the beginning of the story.

Here are three proven ways to enlist your own subconscious in your novel-in-progress:

1. Write down your dreams--especially if they contain vivid imagery. Even if those images don’t seem at first to connect to your novel, just writing them down will help to open a channel to unconscious processes.

2. Carry a notebook everywhere--or use your cellphone’s memo feature--to record thoughts as they bubble up. I’ve noticed that the more I do this, the more ideas occur to me. I think the subconscious LIKES to be noticed.

3. Spend some time daily in a mindless, repetitive activity like jogging, or meditate regularly. These activities will help you get your conscious mind out of the way and allow your subconscious ideas to surface.

Tomorrow: How to insert background information unobtrusively

Technorati Tags: The subconscious and creativity,novel writing

10. How Should a Writer Respond to Reviews?

I’m changing the subject today because of two reviews I received recently on Amazon. Like all writers, I’ve had to learn not to take feedback--whether positive or negative-- personally. When the feedback is from an editor, I accept it and work with it, simply and professionally making the requested changes.

On Amazon.com, feedback  from readers as well as professional reviewers is posted along with the book information. This feedback can make the difference between a sale and a click to another page. A couple of weeks ago I received the following review from someone unknown to me, on Pandora’s Genes:

Meh...Interesting plot, lacks skillful writing, and too abrupt of an ending
My title pretty much sums up the book. I really liked the story. The beginning of the book was actually pretty good and I got drawn into it fairly quickly. Once halfway through, I felt like I was being rushed through the plot by the author, wanting to make sure she explained what was going on so we didn't get lost.... Towards the end of the book, it seemed to get even more rushed and lacked any kind of artistic writing skill. It gave the facts, went through the time line and POOF! The End. I will say the plot was really interesting. It could be made into a decent film if anyone ever decided to do so and in this case might be one of the rare movies that's actually better than the book.

This reader gave me three stars, and had some positive things to say, but all I could see was the phrase “lacked any kind of artistic writing skill.” How dare she? I thought. What does she know about skillful writing? She’s probably never written anything more complicated than a grocery list. I have to admit that this review stung. But, as with all feedback, I shoved it into a corner in the back of my mind and returned to working on the third Pandora’s book.She is, after all, just one reader, and most of the other reviews are overwhelmingly positive.

Yesterday, I received this four-star review from someone unknown to me, on The Ptorrigan Lode.:

A nice read
This was definitely a short one..What I found amazing is the author was able to set up a world, several well defined characters, and introduce a well devised conflict in such a short period of time. I found the protagonist self-absorbed (as he should be based on his circumstances) and related well with the course of action that he chose. If the author chooses to expand on the ground work that this story laid, I would purchase it.

Ah, what a difference! This reader is obviously a man of great literary acumen. He GETS what I’m trying to do. I wonder if he’d like to be my Faceboook friend? I will eventually shove this review into that corner in the back of my mind, with all the others, but for now... I’m basking in it.

Technorati Tags: Pandora's Genes,The Ptorrigan Lode,Literary Criticism and Reviews

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9. Keeping it Real: how to make imaginary locales seem realistic

In yesterday’s post I told you about the maps I consulted for my fictional works located in Washington, D.C., and New York City. They helped me keep the basic details of my books true-to life. Even in the case of Pandora’s Genes, which takes place toward the end of the present century, knowing what those places looked like back in the 1990’s helped me to imagine what a century of neglect and bad weather would do.

But what about completely imaginary locales? What about, say, fantasy or science fiction locations? One of the commenters on yesterday’s post is an sf writer who sets her stories on made-up planets. She says that having been an atmospheric scientist in real life helps her to construct (in imagination) her locales.

I have never been a scientist, but I’ve read a lot of science and science fiction, and that has helped me have a feel for many possible science fictional locations.
My hard-sf novella THE PTORRIGAN LODE takes place on a space station in the asteroid belt. There are no maps for such a place, but I’ve been visiting such structures in science fiction stories since I was a teenager (for example, in The Rolling Stones, by Robert A. Heinlein), so  I already had  a general idea of what such a place (one with artificial gravity) might be like.

I did some further research on the web, perusing scientific articles describing the sort of space station I had in mind. I drew my own map of “Station,” so I could keep track of where the main character was at any given time, and how he would move from level to level. And I spent a lot of time inside his head, trying to imagine how it would feel to live in a sealed, closed station, no matter how big it is.

When writing about my fictional space station I did not go into a great deal of detail, because the novella is largely a story of character, but I worked to make those details I included seem plausible and familiar to readers of today. Jay’s small cubicle on Station,  for example, is small and bare, with everything built-in, but he keeps an old-fashioned acoustic guitar on the shiny metal wall.

A few short scenes toward the end of the novella take place inside a small spaceship and on the surface of a tiny asteroid. To create these, I mainly drew on my years of reading sci fi books and watching sci-fi movies. My general knowledge of science let me know what seemed realistic and what didn’t, and my imagination helped me to feel what the characters felt in these places.

I think the takeaway here is that research is essential to constructing the scaffolding of your novel, but it takes hard thought and imagination to bring the story to life.

Tomorrow I will continue with what keeps it “real,” in a discussion of continuity.

Technorati Tags: Pandora's Genes,Pandora's Children,The Ptorrigan Lode,fiction writing,constructing imaginary locales,creating realistic backgrounds

Me and Zach*

I have signed up for a blogathon challenge.  This will involve blogging every day for a month, starting May 1 and ending on May 31.  I am doing this partly because of Kindle KDP, in which I have some books enrolled.  These are my first conventionally-published science fiction novel, Pandora's Genes, Pandora's Children (which is not enrolled), and The Ptorrigan Lode, a novella that was never previously published.  I have also enrolled Going to See Grassy Ella, my favorite of my children's books.

If you enroll a book exclusively in KDP, you are allowed five promotions (making the book available for free) per quarter. This has been demonstrated to lead to increased sales.  I have offered Pandora’s Genes for free three times, and have given away probably 4000 copies.  As for sales, so far I have sold several dozen copies of the book.  But the interesting thing is that one to three weeks after each promotion I sell more copies of Pandora's Children then of the original book.  It seems clear that people who have read the first book want to find out what happens next.  So my plan is to now write the third novel in the series, which I have been thinking about for many years.

The writing of the first two Pandora’s books, and my progress on the third book, will be the main subjects of my blog posts during the Blogathon.

*Zach is one of the three main characters in the Pandora’s books.