Show, don’t tell

I was recently sent on assignment to cover the inaugural Summer Literary Seminars – specifically, to sit in on a workshop being led by Croatian-American author Josip Novakovich.

Being in the workshop was reminiscent of my days in the Concordia Creative Writing program. Sitting around a long table. Nervous fiddling with pens. Coffee in cardboard cups. The first comments delivered with trepidation, the gradual momentum towards more rapid debate.

The number one theme that all comments revolve around (that all comments have always revolved around) is, how much to tell? Each writer must decide how much to explain to the reader, but approaching the problem with the question, “How much does the reader really want to know?”, will not be of much use.

Creative writing teachers always counsel “show, don’t tell“, but finding the balance between the two is not quickly found. Writers can spend their whole lives trying to measure out the perfect dose of stated facts versus telling scenes built with carefully selected words, gestures, metaphors and physical descriptions.

The problem is, every reader wants or expects a different level of transparency. Furthermore, some genres demand more transparency than others. What works for some readers – or genres – will not work for every reader – or every genre. Trying to please every reader is impossible, and yet, the balance between showing and telling is frequently what distinguishes truly superb storytelling from mediocre writing. It’s a part of the writing process that cannot be avoided – unless you choose to be a mediocre wordsmith.

There are no shortcuts. Hard work will be required. But if there’s no formula, or point of reference to build your strategy around, how to proceed? And if you’re getting conflicting points of view from different members of your writing group, how to decide which comments are pertinent and worth integrating?

Advice from Novakovich? Don’t write for the reader, write for yourself.

The wisdom on this approach runs that if you don’t worry about pleasing every reader, you can better focus on creating a well-crafted story. What this also implies, is that the writer is usually her/his own worst enemy. Our expectations of the final product and how it will be perceived distracts us from the important business of writing well. When you are able to “get out of your own way”, finding the balance required by the story you are writing will come easier (presumably).

When you sit down to your next writing session, take a moment to consider how you may be acting as your own greatest obstacle. Then trying getting out of your way to see what happens. Let me know.