“Show, don’t tell!” is arguably the most common advice given to new writers. It’s repeated with good reason — without sensory details, your stories won’t captivate readers. But can you overdo it?
Without a doubt.
Lean too hard into “show, don’t tell” and you risk overloading your narrative with so many unnecessary details that the story gets buried and the reader grows exhausted.
An example of sensory overload
I suspect we all recognize those moments when a writer has fallen head-first into “show, don’t tell” hell. Take a look at this example:
Jake’s calloused fingers trembled as they gripped the coarse, splintered wooden handle of the ancient shovel. Beads of salty sweat rolled down his furrowed brow, stinging his bloodshot eyes. The acrid stench of freshly turned earth filled his nostrils, mixing with the coppery tang of blood from his raw, blistered palms. Each labored breath sent sharp pains through his aching ribs as the relentless summer sun beat down on his sunburned neck.
Whew! That’s a lot to process. We’ve got calloused fingers trembling, a splintered wooden handle, salty sweat, bloodshot eyes, an acrid stench, a coppery tang, blistered palms, labored breath, sharp pains, aching ribs, relentless sun, and even a sunburned neck all in one short paragraph.
Too much? Abso-friggin’-lutely.
What happens when we overdo ‘show, don’t tell’?
A few things challenge readers when you spare no details.
- Sensory overload: When you bombard the reader with details about touch, sight, smell, and physical sensations all at once it can be overwhelming. Taking in all that information is tiring.
- Lack of focus: An abundance of details usually doesn’t serve a clear purpose or advance the story. It can be hard for your reader to determine what’s important.
- Purple prose: Your writing becomes flowery and overly dramatic. Your reader may find it pretentious and too showy.
- Slowed pacing: When your reader just wants to know what happens next, a few select details can build anticipation, but too many will slow your story to a crawl.
- Lack of subtlety: Describing every sensation vividly leaves no room for the reader’s imagination. It can feel patronizing, as though you don’t trust your reader.
The last bullet point, for me, is the most important. Overwriting leaves nothing to the reader’s imagination, and when it comes to reading, imagining is the fun part.
Also, overwriting isn’t the same as telling a story. Stories invite readers to discover what happens, scene by scene, as a character makes their way through a transformation. Overwriting just sounds like you’re trying (and failing) to show off.
Author Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules of Writing is a gem. I especially like what he labels his “most important rule”:
“If it sounds like writing, I rewrite it.”
Leonard reminds us to pay attention to the parts that readers are likely to skim over or skip entirely. What are those parts?
- Dense blocks of wordy prose
- Unnecessary descriptions (like weather details that don’t impact the story)
- Overlong internal monologues that don’t move the story forward
Leonard calls these things “hooptedoodle” — writing for the sake of writing.
When you write just to see yourself write, you forget your reader exists. You may even forget your story exists. You get caught up in flowery prose. And while writing all that hooptedoodle may be fun for you, reading it is a chore.
My trick for avoiding too much showing
Have you ever been writing and found yourself smiling, scowling, or crying?
I do it all the time, and it’s not because I find writing joyous, frustrating, or sad. It’s because I get so immersed in the story that I almost act it out, as though I’m performing it for my reader. For me, that’s when I know I’m in the zone. If I’m feeling it, I’m confident my reader will.
And that brings me to the advice I give writers more often than any other:
Pretend you’re in a café sharing an exciting (or moving, or heartbreaking) story with a friend. Write your story as you would tell it to that friend.
You wouldn’t sit across from me (I’m your friend, now!) sipping a latte and saying, “So, Jake’s calloused fingers trembled as they gripped the coarse, splintered wooden handle of the ancient shovel. Beads of salty sweat rolled down his furrowed brow, stinging his bloodshot eyes. The acrid stench of freshly turned earth filled his nostrils …”
I mean, you might say that if you were a 10-year-old on a sleepover huddled under the covers with a flashlight strategically aimed under your chin to make you look spooky. But you wouldn’t say it as we adults sit in broad daylight in a quaint little café. Instead, you might say, “So, Jake gripped that old shovel, sweat pouring down his face and into his eyes as he turned the earth.”
Do I need to know that Jake’s fingers are calloused and trembling? That the shovel handle is coarse, splintered, and wooden? That Jake’s brow is furrowed and his eyes are bloodshot? That the scent of earth is acrid?
Nope. Jake’s grip on the shovel and the sweat pouring down his face into his eyes provide just enough detail for me to understand what’s happening. My mind will fill in the rest. I’ll see Jake’s hands on the shovel, watch the sweat pour down his face into his eyes, and smell the earth he’s exerted himself turning.
Instead of longing to skip ahead to the good stuff, I’m intrigued. I want to find out exactly what Jake’s digging for. Is he looking for treasure? Burying a body? Interesting! Now, I’m leaning forward to learn more because I have just enough information to paint a picture in my mind. Don’t make me wait too long for the payoff or you may lose me.
10 tips to balance showing and telling
Finding the right balance between showing and telling can be tricky, but you can do it. Put these simple tips into practice.
- Prioritize important moments: Use more “showing” for pivotal scenes, character development, or emotional beats. “Tell” for less critical information or to move the story along quickly.
- Consider pacing: “Showing” slows down the narrative. “Telling” speeds it up. Use this insight to control the rhythm of your story.
- Vary your approach: Mix showing and telling throughout your work to create a dynamic reading experience.
- Use telling for background: Summarize backstory or contextual information, then show the immediate action and emotions.
- Show character traits through action: Instead of stating a character’s personality, demonstrate it through their behavior and dialogue.
- Be selective with details: You don’t have to include a laundry list of sensory details. Look for the ones you think will resonate with your reader, especially if they contain a grain of universal truth.
- Trust your readers: Ultimately, the story belongs to your reader. Trust them to infer the details without you having to explicitly state them.
- Consider your genre: Some genres (like thrillers) may benefit from more telling to maintain a fast pace, while others (like literary fiction) might lean more heavily on showing so they’re richer and more immersive.
- Use dialogue effectively: Dialogue can be a powerful tool for both showing and telling, revealing character and advancing the plot simultaneously.
- Revise with a critical eye: During editing, look for places where you might be over-describing or where a quick summary could replace a drawn-out description.
Remember, the goal is to engage your readers and serve your story. Sometimes a straightforward bit of telling can be more effective than an elaborate attempt to show.
The key is to be intentional about your choices and to keep your reader’s experience in mind.
