Show! Don't Tell (Or Do, Don't Show!)

Hello Dreamers,

"Show, don't tell," is sound, often repeated, advice. With the exception of video games, where the advice is "Do, don't show," every storytelling medium has this as a mantra. Which makes sense, really. After, why tell me Napaca ate donuts when you can detail how Napaca grabbed each one and stuffed it into their food hole? These details aren't just more interesting they also communicate more about a character and environment than simply stating it. None likes infodumps, or having things explained.

So, why is this advice often repeated, but commonly ignored?

Simple, really. Showing takes more effort than telling.

Case in point. Here is a passage from my next book, Whispers of the Abyss, that I had to cut:

Considered a pillar of the community, Edward Morris, the businessman with his shop, hosted many events and sponsored the numerous happenings within Elmwood.  His shop, the Greatest Catch, sat in the town square near the mayor's office and the library, across from the dock where fishermen came for shore leave or to sell their catch.  He called it a curiosities shop, however many considered it to be a glorified pawn shop, as a common source of the trinkets and baubles he had for sale came from fishermen finding oddities in their nets, or beachcombers finding discarded relics along the coast. 

Shelley, the editor I hired to review the second draft, came back saying that I needed to demonstrate that Edward was the pillar of his community, and how the shop, well, shopped. The revised version:

Abigale booked a private event for the afternoon as part of her obligations as next of kin.  McFinnly, the gruff and burly third-generation owner, was more than happy to book her.  “He be good for buisness,” McFinnly said when she inquired about the space, “After all, that pawn shop of his attracted a lot of out-of-towners, if yeah get me?”
From there, around a couple of tables with simple pub food the mourners all filed in, family and townsfolk alike.  From there Abigale simply sat, sipping cider, responding to ‘Sorry for your loss’ pleasentries while everyone else spoke amongst themselves.
[...]
The townfolk, [...], appeared more interested in Abigale.  Lecter Thompson, the major for the last twenty years, gave a nod while asking “Would the Morris estate be sponsoring events again?  We all know Ed liked a good party!”
“Eventually,” Abigale just replied.
“You think the deal would be, well…”
“Sorry?”
“You know what?  Maybe not a good time to talk about this.  Will call you soon.”
She chugged her drink and went to get seconds.  [...]  Moments later another person approached.  Younger.
Abigale held her head up in a scrutinizing tilt, for something told her she should know who this was.  A moment past before she uttered “Are you… Anton?  Anton Scottsman?”
“Abby?” he replied, “Abby Morris?”
“Yes,” she nodded courtly.
“Been a while.  How you doing?  Sorry about your loss.  I know you were close to the odd man, and he indeed funded things, like the yearly parade?”
Abigale nodded, a faint smile on her face.
“By the way, while I have your attention,” he said,  “You plan to run the store?”
“I… I think so,” she replied.  She did know how to operate the til and open the safe, but after that, she really didn’t know how to run a shop.  Being employeed once didn’t mean she could own and run it.  So what to do with the shop filled her with dread.
The unease wasn’t lost on Anton.  “Well, if you need help, I would like to offer my services.”
“Those are?” Abigale asked, her eyes on the door.  Will people leave me alone? 
“Well, my body of course!” he said with a glib smile.  “I can help move merchandise, man the till, operate the POS - you know, help with the basics of running a store.  I majored in business studies at university, so I think I can also advise!”
“I’ll think about it, Anton,” Abigale simply said, “I know you worked there at one point, so I don’t have to teach much… I think.”
Anton eyed his Guiness and looked back at Abigale.  “I get it, a lot is happening at once, and suddenly too… didn’t Eddy have a heart attack?”
She nodded.
“Yeah, tough…” The young man reached into his coat and gave Abigale a business card.  “When you’re ready, you can call me!”
The opportunistic young man then disappeared to mingle with a few of the other townfolk.
“Good riddence, the fucker died!” Abigale overheard someone, a Mr. Graff, say to someone.
“Eh!  Don’t talk ill of the dead!” what sounded like his cousin replied.
“You realize that glorified pawn shop he owned down the street attracted way too many strangers!”
Something folk in Elmwood didn’t like about Edward and the Greatest Catch was the number of out-of-town visitors that the place attracted.  She had seen people, usually, white men, come to the store and ask to speak to Edward in private.  What dealings they got into she wasn’t sure, and Edward never volunteered.
“Whatcha got against tourists?” the cousin said.
“You think them visitors be touring?  Nah, that shop was a front for something.  Any sailor that has ever been on one of his charters could tell you that!  Wouldn’t be surprised if there were, well, human cargo!”
“You just spouting nonsense now!”
“I know he’s shafted enough bums and hired enough thugs…”
A third man, Abigale knew to be knowm simply as Tricky-Ricky, approached Mr. Graff, a hand balled into a fist.  “His niece is right there,” he shouted, “Now, shut the fuck up before I put this in your mouth!”
Some muttering that Abigale couldn’t hear later those three men left the pub.
The afternoon wound down.  Abigale went to settle her tab, with McFinnly shaking his head.  “Nah, Eddy was great for me.  Don’t worry about it.”  She thanked the man and headed out, leaving townfolk and family to continue the party.

The book will be available for preorder on September 2nd. Join the prelaunch on September 1st.

You can see how many words it took to show Edward's effect on the community as opposed to simply stating what it was. Perhaps the revision is more interesting than the original, however it took more time to craft.

Not just books either

Same with other mediums too. Showing two people fighting in a movie requires actors to memorize lines and perform stunts. That needs choreography of all the punches, kicks, and throws. Someone has to hold the camera. Someone else has to set the scene or find a place good enough to film at. You might even need stunt doubles depending on how elaborate the fighting is or how brave your actors are.

See how it might be easier to have a character simply say "Those two fought?"

The same effort problem shows up in "Do, don't show," for video games. For many game engines, it's easier to make a cutscene of the player fighting a monster than having the player fight the monster. Making a boss monster involves coding and testing, all while trying to have the mechanics of it interesting and not break the game. It's easier to take those models and render a cutscene that plays when the player hits a certain flag in the game.

So the next time you're reading some slush and something is told to you as opposed to shown, and ask yourself "Why not show this?" That is why.