Blog Post #8- Show and Tell

The chapter says “Show, don’t tell.”

This is sage advice.

Which sounds better…

My day was ruined.

Or

The day started as any other day. Tea at the usual goddess-forsaken hour of the morning, a quick shower, and breakfast while Olli played with my toes. Then, things went south. No sugar for the oatmeal, my boots had who-knows-what all over them, and I suddenly remembered I was supposed to be early for work. Sigh. Things went to all-out purgatory the minute I opened my door.

I think we can agree the second paragraph is better. The second part illustrates step-by-step how things went from bad to worse, without the oh-so-descriptive bit “My day was ruined”, which doesn't tell us what actually happened.

Sometimes, though, showing and telling go hand in hand.

Ugh. This wasn't how I wanted to spend my Friday. I did a double take when I saw Ollie try and get the guy’s attention. If he pet Olli, he’d stink for days.

“Don’t you touch my cat.”

“Not going to,” the man grunted. “I’m allergic.”

“That’s doesn't apply anymore,” I said, clenching my teeth. Stomping towards the kitchen, I snagged a bowl off the counter and the box of Lucky Charms I kept for just such emergencies. I plunked them down in front of him.

“So,” I said, trying to be conversational, “how long have you been dead?”

“Two hours. Got any milk?” He asked, wading into in my fridge. “I prefer skim.”

Goddess, how I hated being a reaper.

See what I mean? The characters let YOU, the reader, know the man was dead without actually saying “The dead man leaned against the planter.”

Editing tip of the week:

At my niece’s show-and-tell thing for school, a student brought in a picture she drew over the weekend. The picture portrayed her whole family, but the caption read “My Whore Family”. One little misplaced letter can derail the entire meaning of the sentence. I realize she was very young, but I still had to clap my hand over my mouth to keep from snorting. J