Showing posts with label show don’t tell. Show all posts
Showing posts with label show don’t tell. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 28, 2023

Back to Basics: Write a believable story by including the stink, slime, and grime

 

Readers want stories that catch their attention and reach into their hearts. They want stories that will stick—stories that will make a difference in their lives. 

 

To that end, in recent weeks we’ve worked on creating well-rounded main characters your readers can relate to. (Click on How to create “a sensory world that you and your readers can inhabit together” as well as Refuse to let cardboard characters lurk in your memoir.)

 

We’ve also worked on crafting the best descriptions of your memoir’s key places so readers feel they’re with you at that place.  (See The importance of “place,” and How’s your progress in describing your memoir’s key places?)

 

In addition, you’ll want to write a believable story.

And for that, you must include 

the stink, the slime, and the grime.

 

In Walker in the City (1951), Alfred Kazin has returned to his childhood home in the Brownsville district of Brooklyn. He writes about everyday sights and experiences. He creates vivid images and includes sensory details:

 

“The greasy, spattered front steps, just off the Chinese hand laundry in the basement, led into what must have been the vestibule of a traditionally stately Brooklyn Heights mansion. Despite the metal shields holding up the battered front door, you could see that it once had been a beautiful door….

 

“…I step off the train at Rockaway Avenue, smell the leak out of the men’s room, then the pickles from the stand below the subway steps…. An instant rage comes over me, mixed with dread and some unexpected tenderness.

 

“It is always the old women in their shapeless flowered housedresses and ritual wigs I see first; they give Brownsville back to me. In their soft dumpy bodies and the unbudging way they occupy the tenement stoops, their hands blankly folded in each other as if they had been sitting on those stoops from the beginning of time, I sense again the old foreboding that all my life would be like this.” (From Inventing the Truth: The Art and Craft of Memoir, William Zinsser)

 

Perhaps your story is set in a country’s slums. Remember from our recent posts: Show, don’t tell.

 

Instead of telling people that children clawed through acres of garbage searching for something to eat—show readers. Describe the raw sewage flowing between row after row of rusty, crumbling, patched-together dwellings. Include sensory details:  smells, sounds, feels, tastes, and sights.

 

Show, don’t tell the extreme poverty of the slum-dwellers and their lack of good nutrition. Show the people too poor to get medical help for their diseases. Show the high mortality rate among children under age five. Show the dense population, filth, and environmental hazards. Include the high unemployment rate and the lack of educational opportunities. Show that almost no slum-dwellers have electricity or running water. Show the kidnappings and rapes.

 

“Some budding memoirists rush through a scene

without stopping to smell the rain on the pavement.

Granted, you don't want

to overwhelm your readers with details;

you have to keep the story moving along.

If the scene or event is crucial,

slow down and describe it so that the reader

can experience it with you.”

Sharon DeBartolo Carmack

 

Use specific words, compelling words. Gritty words.


Study old photos to discern specific details you might have forgotten. Did you write letters or emails about your experience? Did you keep a diary?  If so, they’re great resources for you.

 

Avoid sugar-coating.

Recreate your experience so readers will feel

they’re beside you, encountering what you did.

 

“ . . . feel the rush and throb of real life.”

O. Henry

 

Remember this good advice from Rhys Alexander:

 

“Detail makes the difference between 

boring and terrific writing. 

It’s the difference between a pencil sketch 

and a lush oil painting. 

As a writer, words are your paint. 

Use all the colors.” 

(“Writing Gooder”)

 



Tuesday, February 21, 2023

Back to Basics: Refuse to let cardboard characters lurk in your memoir!

 

“No one wants to be known for writing flat, boring, cardboard characters,” says Carly Sandifer.

 

“. . . Pick the particularly telling details that can make the difference between a cardboard character and a real, live person,” Judith Barrington says. It’s a matter “of selecting those few [details] that capture the essence of the person . . . .” (Writing the Memoir)

 

That’s your goal as a memoirist: “Capture the essence of the person.”

 

How, specifically, can you do that?

 

By employing the good old tried-and-true principle:

SHOW, DON’T TELL.

SHOW your main characters to your readers

rather than TELL readers about them.

 

“Why do we need to show?” asks author Cecil Murphey. “Telling is like overhearing someone talk about another person. Showing is like meeting the person.”

 

For example, instead of telling readers that a lady was “beautiful,”

show readers—describe her in such a way

that your reader will conclude for himself, “She was beautiful.”

 

Mark and Delia Owens could have told readers that Lionel was a problem drinker and a partier, but instead, they showed readers. They wrote:

 

“Lionel Palmer, deeply tanned, his dark hair brushed with grey, was dressed in baggy jeans, a cowboy shirt, and a bandana. He sauntered out to greet us, holding a glass of whisky in his hand. The oldest and most experienced professional hunter in the area, Lionel held considerable social position in Maun. He was famous for his parties, where bedroom furniture sometimes ended up on the roof, and once a Land Rover had been hung in a fig tree—and for his capacity for Scotch. Once, after several days of intoxication, he woke up with a stabbing earache. The doctor at the clinic removed a two-inch-long sausage fly—a reddish-brown tubelike, winged insect—which had taken up residence in Lionel’s numbed ear while he slept off his drunkenness in a flowerbed. For a week Lionel carried the fly’s carcass bedded down in a cotton-lined matchbox, proudly showing it to everyone he met, whether or not he knew them.” (Cry of the Kalahari)

 

Notice the way author Kristin Hanna showed Anouk to readers:

 

"Isabelle looked up, expecting to see German soldiers, but it was Anouk. She was dressed, as usual, more for her temperament than the season, in all black. A fitted V-neck black sweater and straight skirt with a black beret and gloves. A Gauloises cigarette hung from her bright red lips.

 

"She paused at the open doorway. . . . The Germans turned. Anouk let the door shut behind her. She casually lit her cigarette and inhaled deeply. . . .

 

"Anouk walked forward with a regal, disdainful air. . . . The Germans fell silent, watching her, moving sideways to let her pass. Isabelle heard one of them say ‘mannish’ and another ‘widow.’

 

"Anouk seemed not to notice them at all. At the counter she stopped and took a drag on her cigarette. The smoke blurred her face, and for a moment, only her cherry-red lips were noticeable. . . .

 

"Anouk turned and left the bookshop. It wasn’t until the bell tinkled that the spell broke and the [German] soldiers began speaking again.” (Nightingale)

 

Here’s another example, this one from Fred Craddock’s “Preaching as Storytelling”:

 

“‘There was this beggar sitting at the gate.’ Wait a minute. Give me a chance to experience the beggar at the gate. See the rags, smell the odor, hear the coins in the tin cup, see the hollow eyes.” (from The Art and Craft of Biblical Preaching)

 

Think about your memoir’s main characters.

 

If one of them was smarmy, find words to craft a scene showing readers he was creepy.

 

If she was weird, create a scene to show she was strange. Bizarre. Eccentric.

 

If he was intellectual, use words to show he was cerebral. Scholarly.

 

Let readers in on a person’s idiosyncrasies and gestures. Did she live life at a half-run, or did she plod through life?

 

Did he make people uncomfortable by standing too close when he talked with them?

 

Did he make a funny little noise in his throat when he was nervous?

 

Instead of telling readers “He was angry,” show them his clenched jaw, flared nostrils, red face, or cold flashing eyes. Let readers hear the yelling and the slammed door.

 

Capture sweet moments, hilarious times, personality quirks, demonstrations of courage, integrity, tenacity in the face of obstacles, or high adventure—all make for great reading.

 

Consider the following when developing your main characters. Was he/she:

 

Generous or selfish

Dull or quick-witted

Charming or dreary

Stand-offish or welcoming

Gentle or gruff

Thoughtful or insensitive

Tall or short

Plump or skinny

Young or old

Agile or awkward

Generous or stingy

Composed or nervous

Gloomy or merry

Foolish or wise

Erratic or steady

Polished or frumpy

Uncouth or refined

Hilarious or humorless

 

“This is the recording of everyday gestures, habits, manners, customs, . . . clothing, decoration, styles of traveling, eating, keeping house, modes of behaving toward children, servants, superiors, inferiors, peers, plus the various looks, glances, poses, styles of walking and other symbolic details that might exist. . . .” (Roy Peter Clark quoting Tom Wolfe)

 

Your job is to develop multi-dimensional,

memorable, compelling, well-rounded personalities.

 

Capture unique details about your main characters—

physical, emotional, psychological, spiritual.

Reveal personality, beliefs, idiosyncrasies, and heart.

 

Develop characters your readers can experience

in the ways you experienced them.

 

 Take a minute to read Cecil Murphey’s post, “Show me! Show me!”

 

You’ll also enjoy Carly Sandifer’s post, “What I learned from Truman Capote about character description.” In it, Carly wrote, “Capote didn’t have to write about [tell readers about] his character, ‘She was a moral person,’ because he shows it.”



 

Wednesday, January 25, 2012

Let no cardboard characters creep around in your memoir



I can’t remember the book’s title or author but, all these years later, I still recall the story’s main character—but not in a positive way. I knew nothing of her physical appearance, and almost nothing of her inner qualities. The author had created a stick figure.


So, when you write your memoir, write life and personality into your main characters because “No one wants to be known for writing flat, boring, cardboard characters,” says Carly Sandifer, * (emphasis mine).


Capture unique details about your main characters—physical, emotional, psychological, and spiritual.


Reveal personality, idiosyncrasies, and heart.


Create characters your readers can experience in the important ways you experienced them.


You want multi-dimensional characters, memorable characters, compelling characters.


“ … Characters come alive when you pick the particularly telling details that can make the difference between a cardboard character and a real, live person. This is not a matter of throwing an abundance of details—say, of a person’s visual appearance—at the reader, but of selecting those few that capture the essence of that person … a quirk of speech, a mannerism, the way his hair falls across his face, an item of clothing, the smell or her, or how she walks.” (Judith Barrington in Writing the Memoir)*


Remember, you want to show, not tell.* Instead of saying a lady was beautiful, describe her in such a way that your reader will conclude for himself, “She was beautiful!”


If one of your characters is smarmy, find words to show readers he’s creepy. Sinister.


If she’s weird, use words to show she’s strange. Bizarre. Eccentric.


If he’s intellectual, find words to show he’s cerebral. Scholarly.


Use words to show the following details about important people in your stories:


Generous or selfish.

Dull or quick-witted.

Charming or dreary.

Stand-offish or welcoming.

Gentle or gruff.

Tall or short.

Plump or skinny.

Composed or nervous.

Gloomy or merry.

Young or old.

Foolish or wise.

Erratic or steady.

Polished or frumpy.

Uncouth or refined.

Agile or awkward.

Hilarious or humorless.



“This is the recording of everyday gestures, habits, manners, customs, styles of furniture, clothing, decoration, styles of traveling, eating, keeping house, modes of behaving toward children, servants, superiors, inferiors, peers, plus the various looks, glances, poses, styles of walking and other symbolic details  that might exist.…”


When you describe your stories’ main characters, use all five senses: Let readers see, smell, hear, feel, and taste what you experienced.


Then go the next step: Show, don’t tell, how you felt about that person. Why did you know you could call her, day or night, and she’d always be there for you? Why did he make you want to stay as far away as possible?


Then dig deeper still: What was God doing in or through this person that impacted your life? Maybe God used him or her in small ways, but, on the other hand, maybe He used that person to determine your life’s direction.


Answering that question—What was God doing?—might take a long time, but work hard on finding the answer(s) because that’s where you’ll find the blessings.


That’s where you’ll realize, more than ever before, that God, in His goodness, has been guiding you all along. 


*References and links

Carly Sandifer,

Judith Barrington, Writing the Memoir,

Roy Peter Clark quoting Tom Wolfe,

My "Show don't tell" blog post,
 


Wednesday, October 12, 2011

Capture your readers’ interest so they’ll keep reading your memoir



Your memoir’s potential readers have countless distractions luring them away from reading your stories.


Lots of us are aflutter with baseball—Which teams will go to the World Series?—and football: local schools, colleges, and pros. Then there are athletics in which our kids and grandkids play.


And there’s the walk for cancer, food drives, Bible studies, doctor appointments, and rummage sales.


We have lawns and gardens to groom, toilets to scrub, carpets to vacuum, meals to make, dishes to scrub, empty cupboards to restock.


There’s Facebook, Twitter, LinkedIn, Google+, texting, MP3 players, movies, magazines, and hobbies.


Your story is important* but because people are busy, they’ll spend time on only what promises to be worth their effort.


That means your stories must be more intriguing than all those distractions and choices before them.


How do you earn the right to be read? As a memoir writer, you must :

  • capture the reader’s interest so he’ll keep reading all the way to the end, and
  • invite the reader to experience your story with you.


How can you accomplish that?


One way, of several, is to follow the old “Show, Don’t Tell” rule.


Avoid telling your reader, “She was beautiful.” Instead, show your reader: Describe details, one at a time, as you see them—features you want your readers to see—which will make your readers conclude for themselves, “She was beautiful!”


“Don't say it was ‘delightful’; make us say ‘delightful’ when we've read the description. You see, all those words (horrifying, wonderful, hideous, exquisite) are only like saying to your readers ‘Please will you do the job for me.’” (C.S. Lewis)


“Don't tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” (Anton Chekov)


Avoid telling readers "He was angry." Instead, show readers his clenched jaw, flared nostrils, red face, and cold flashing eyes. Let readers hear the yelling and the slammed door.


Instead of writing “old truck,” invite readers to ride with you. Describe the rusty-black ’52 Ford pick-up with its cracked leather seats. Tell your readers what it smelled like inside: hay? barn-stuff on the farmer’s boots? the old Collie that went everywhere with the driver? Let your readers hear the gravel crunch in the driveway and the low throb of the old Ford’s engine. Did the truck’s doors squeak when they opened? Did it have a radio? If so, what songs might you have heard on it?


From “Tell” to “Show”— an example

Original: A hippo stampede thundered through our camp the first night.

Revision: In the middle of our first night, the ground rumbled like an earthquake and your grandpa and I jolted awake. Within seconds I recognized hippo noises, and I knew what I heard—a stampede, right through our camp. Immediately I wondered if we had pitched our tent in their usual path because, if so, those spooked hippos would trample us to death. I asked myself, Should we get up and run? If so, where? Which direction? I couldn’t think straight, but it didn’t matter—I was so frightened I couldn’t move. The hippos thundered through our camp in about twenty seconds—which seems like a long time when you’re scared out of your wits—and then we heard colossal splashes in the lake as, one after another, they plunged in, their ghastly bellows and snorts echoing through the night. (from Grandma’s Letters from Africa, Linda K. Thomas, http://www.amazon.com/Grandmas-Letters-Africa-Linda-Thomas/dp/1440191476)


Look over your rough drafts and ask yourself, “Where can I spice up my writing by showing instead of telling?” You’ll find that “showing” can be a lot of fun!

*Related posts:

Are your stories important?


The Power of Your Story