Get Into Your Character

“Show, don’t tell.”

Oh, the one rule of writing that could make my eyes glaze over faster than listening to my high school chemistry teacher explain the mole.

I’m a literal person, so I never understood how words—which are used to tell someone about something—could showanything. I can’t show you what my imaginary dream house looks like; I have to tell you with descriptive words…right? I mean, isn’t showing for artists who paint pictures or sculpt with clay or compose music?

For years, I struggled with this concept in my writing, until I joined an online critique group and began receiving crits one chapter at a time on what would turn out to be my debut novel. Suddenly, the proverbial lightbulb lit up—so bright it almost set my hair on fire.

“Show, don’t tell” is difficult for both new and seasoned writers to grasp, which explains why there are many books on the subject. Below, I will share a few of my faves that touch on this subject in one way or another. But in a nutshell, here’s how it clicked for me: I became a character instead of a bystander.

In other words, instead of watching my POV (point of view) character act out the story on the TV screen in my mind, I pretended to be the POV character, with all the limitations and awareness of that character. I can only see what that character sees. I only know what that character knows. I can only touch, hear, taste, smell what my POV character does.

Okay, so this also blends into deep POV teaching, but this is how I figured out “showing.” Because I realized that as I go about my day in real life, I don’t think of my hair being dark blond when I braid it; I just braid and move on. I don’t think of my shoe size when pulling on my boots; I pull them on and go. I don’t think about the fact my eyes are hazel when I glance around a room; I’m noting the wall color instead, or the furniture pieces, or how many people can squeeze around the island counter.

As I write this, I’m glancing out the window on a Montana vista and instead of thinking, “The sky is blue,” I’m noting its hue in contrast to the blue-gray mountains along the horizon. The snow isn’t white so much as I have to squint against its brightness reflecting the sun, and the winds from the previous week have formed ridges on the snow’s surface like sand along the beach. Even the snowbanks flanking the road look like frothy ocean waves, frozen in the act of breaking against the shore.

When I listen to the news (it doesn’t happen often, believe me), I don’t think anger; but I’m aware my hands are clenching, my teeth are grinding, and my body’s growing hot. When I glimpse my stash of yarn, I don’t think longing; I feel the tug in my chest, the twitch in my fingers to hold a pair of knitting needles, my body relaxing. When I read about a painful experience in a book or online, I don’t think sad; my eyes might sting or my vision blurs, a knot fists behind my sternum, I shift in my chair, or maybe I clear my throat.

And here’s the kicker: I’ll react differently to these things than someone else will, which means getting into our characters also comes in handy when we apply it to description. Depending on the words we use, we can paint a scene in happy tones or the same scene in melancholy tones; we can show our character’s level of education or hint at his/her qualities, quirks, and interests. 

Let’s say our setting is Disney World’s Magic Kingdom.

A mother of toddlers visiting for the first time will likely recount her day as hectic, stressful and overwhelming (No? Just me?); a mother of teens, however, who’s been several times before, could recount it in unhurried, relaxed, carefree tones. Their attitudes will also influence which words they choose to describe the myriad rides, stores, and crowds of people. The teenagers might approach the Magic Kingdom with more snark than a pair of grandparents, who may be wishing they could turn back the clock. And two people going through midlife crises would view the park through different-colored lenses simply because one might be a doctor and the other a construction worker. 

Do you “see” how becoming our POV characters and starring in our imaginary movies can help us when it comes to showing? 😉 And we’re that much closer to nailing deep POV (if you’re going for that depth) and a unique voice with description, to boot!

So, the next time you run a hand through your hair, or react to a tweet, or admire the sunset; the next time you stroll through a field of flowers or race through Walmart with minutes to spare before your next appointment, pause a moment to reflect on how you’re processing these actions. Then, ask how your POV character would approach the same situations. Finally, apply what you discovered to your current WIP and let your writing shine.

Books I found helpful in the realm of “showing”:

• Mastering Showing and Telling in Your Fiction, by Marcy Kennedy
• The Emotion Thesaurus, by Angela Ackerman & Becca Puglisi
• Voice: The Secret Power of Great Writing, by James Scott Bell
• Rivet Your Readers With Deep Point of View, by Jill Elizabeth Nelson