"show, don't tell"

Any aspect of the characters that integral to the action of the story will be more closely woven into the fabric of the book than aspects that are merely remarked upon in passing, but never brought out in the action. If you just slap a label on the forehead of a character, such as "handsome", "intrepid", "immature" etc., and then carry on, expecting your reader to assimilate this trait into their picture of the character, then you're probably going to end up with flat, weakly developed characters.

OTOH, only showing and never telling will rob you of a useful device for adding subtleties and nuances to your characters that won't translate well into dialogue or action.

A far, far better to learn how to write than applying a set of rules like that one is to read attentively the work of excellent writers and constantly write, as if writing were the most important thing you could ever do. A few years of that should work wonders.

I think it all depends on how you approach your writing to ILX. [/sure-fire appeal to relativism]

If you really want to communicate your thoughts and ideas in the clearest and most incisive manner [yeah "incisive" ought to cow him but good], then the immediate and varied feedback from other ILXors will become a virtuous loop, revealing to you your faults of vagueness or hyperbole [sock it to him, bro!] and providing instant motivation to improve.

However, [unsheath the parallelism stiletto slowly] if you really don't pay close attention or even give a shit, [nice use of profanity for emphasis] then I doubt posting to ILX could do much beyond the rudimentary to improve your writing chops [slang inserted, liftoff acheived].

Therefore [signal the big pedantic finish] this proves that your fate as a writer is in your own hands, or brain, as it were. [Hooooeee! "as it were" in your face, broheem!!]

[/victory dance]

the usual chekhov quote is the "gun on the stage" one..?

Poet #1 - Keats

Just been rereading Don Quixote. Chock full of tell: and how insipid and two dimensional it makes most modern fiction look.

Here's the new slogan: Show and Tell.

I'd generally agree with that, unless the character's account of an event differs in some significant way from what the reader knows really happened. Can contribute to characterization, seeing what they leave out or disproportionately emphasize.

On the other hand, if you spend your time reading published books by good authors, the rule will seem silly -- because part of becoming a good writer in the first place is having good ideas and instincts about when you can "show" and when you can "tell." And possibly this is closer to the real rule: "Be aware of showing vs. telling, and be aware of what effect each one will potentially have on what you're writing, and just generally make informed decisions about how you're handling the difference."

I agree with this up to a point: what it ignores is that you are talking about fashion, not some kind of eternal truth about writing. There are always contemporary preconceptions of what good writing should be, and people who aren't particularly good writers will match them often if they observe certain rules. Currently, keep your sentences short, use active not passive verbs, show don't tell and so on. But the same advice wouldn't have worked in 1850 and may not work again in 2040.

Wait, would we?

Unless you were picking on my misspelling, in which case: pthtpthpthbbb.

Right. The difference is between dramatization and summary.

Indeed, in art classes I believe they commonly instruct students to place an eye on each side of the nose when representing the face.

like from the second reply i was going "oh i guess that actually kind of makes sense then" and all the replies were really reasonable and nabisco's is like hyper-reasonable and like argh.

Excellent! We are in agreement.

So, anyone got any plans for their Sunday?

1. TELLING - VERY AMATEUR WRITER
The bag wouldn't fall. John was furious. He went back to his desk.

2. TELLING - SOMEWHAT LESS AMATEUR WRITER
The bag wouldn't fall. John was furious. "Stupid chips," he thought, stomping angrily back to his desk.

3. TELLING - GOODISH WRITER
The bag wouldn't fall. John was surprised to find an unreasonable fury welling up inside himself, and he savored the feeling, stomping angrily back to his desk, burning with ill will.

4. SHOWING - GOODISH WRITER
The bag wouldn't fall. John stood for a moment, curling his lips, then rammed the heel of his palm into the plastic casing. A moment later, he could be heard stomping down the hallway, each footfall echoing meanly around the cubicles, from the kitchen to his desk.

"Show, don't tell" is for writers 1 and 2. Writer 1 isn't using any of fiction and literature's "showing" techniques -- he's just saying what happened, and needs to learn to dramatize. Writer 2 is at least using a couple entry-level dramatization techniques -- including the character's thoughts and one revealing action -- but could probably be encouraged to take a more complex approach to it.

Writer 3 doesn't need to be told to "show," because he clearly has a reason for telling -- he wants to talk directly about the character's feelings and even the character's reactions to his own feelings, something writers "tell" us about all the time. (He's also including just enough concrete detail to imply that he knows what he's doing, and wants to keep a foot in conventional dramatization.) And Writer 4 is following the modern-tradition show-don't-tell rule to a T, using actions and reactions to imply the state of mind without ever having to say it. (This isn't particularly useful when it comes to vending machines, but it is pretty cool when you can have a character blink and the reader understand that with that single blink, all of said character's dreams have been shattered, or whatever.)

And umm yeah I suspect all y'alls thinking the first one is fine is maybe based on thinking about books by actual writers, rather than the writing of people who don't yet know what they're doing? I mean, minimalism is a style, yeah, but it's a style that's remarkably similar to -- and maybe even self-consciously imitating -- the way people write when they don't know how to write yet: "I couldn't get the chips, so I felt angry, so I went back to my desk, but then I was still hungry, so I decided to try again..." Yeah, sure, maybe someone could make an aesthetic out of that, but obviously 90% of the time it's just by accident.

Minimalism, on the other hand, may be spare, but it's super-heavy on dramatization, almost all dramatization -- how often do minimalists digress or follow thoughts? Not hard to tell the difference between effective minimalism and just not knowing how to dramatize yet; with the former there's still life in there, and confident brushstrokes, and the feeling that it should be like that, that you wouldn't want it any other way.

That's kind of exaggerated-but-not-by-much Hemingway riff, though, no? It would probably be more like "I couldn't get the chips. I went back to my desk. I decided to try again." Or whatever. That'd be more traditionally(?) minimalist, I think, since the emotional indicators would be gone. That, to me, is the essence of "show don't tell." Like, you shouldn't need to say he was angry or hungry; the actions will indicate that. Like in one of examples above, you wouldn't say he "stomped angrily." How else can someone stomp but angrily?
Anyway, as I said, I tend to prefer this as an aesthetic and it's (surprise!) how I generally tend to write. Better to have a tantalizing detail that draws you in than to say, Okay okay, I get it already!

He returned to his desk, laden with hunger.

Ever since the deliveryman had placed him in the rack, Cappy refused to believe the rumors spread by his neighbors. One by one, they told him, chips were simply... disappearing, ground forward by the machinery to who knows what fate. Nonsense, he insisted, considering himself a better, finer class of chips. Kettle-cooked, no less. Such fantasies were for the cheez-doodles and the pork rinds. But refined chips knew better than to believe such hysteria of abductions. Still though, on occasion, as the spirals surrounding him ground forward, he did wonder what fate had in store, if there wasn't after all some... prime mover.. some impulse of the meyond that determined their movements. Other bags of chips had their own theories. One had devised an elaborate glutematecentric theory of the universe, while another prominent bag insisted that it was in fact each back of chip moving in unison... while the spirals remained perfectly still.

Immediately in front of Cappy rested Charlie, who had arrived some time earlier. A veteran of the machine, Charlie told him to pay the excitement no mind. They would often enjoy long games of geography, and conversations on the nature of truth stretching deep into the night. But all that changed one fateful afternoon, as the gears turned their fateful course. Cappy heard Charlie in front of him cry out in shock -- The bag in front, he's gone! The light! So bright, so beautiful! Don't follow it, Cappy yelled. But the gears started almost immediately again, and Charlie simply... dropped out of sight. Before Cappy stood an enormous vista of color, panning off in dimensions he had never imagined, with unfathomable reach. Charlie had seemed resigned to his fate, but not so Cappy. Who knew what lay beyond? He resolved that such mysteries could be explored later. For the time being, he would endeavor to be stronger and more secure than his speculative fellow snacks. No abductions for these fried potatoes, no sir. He was hanging on for good.

Show! Don't tell! >:D