How to Use Show, Don’t Tell to Strengthen Your Story

Writers hear it all the time: Show, don’t tell. This advice is so iconic that I wouldn’t be surprised if a few tattoos are kicking around the community. After all, our job as writers isn’t to explain what’s happening to readers, it’s to help them experience the story themselves. And show, don’t tell is how we do it!

Showing Creates an Experience.
Telling Hands Out Information.

Imagine your story as a culinary masterpiece and your reader a dinner guest. Sure, you could slap a plate down and say, “It’s lasagna, enjoy,” or you could slide the steaming dish in front of them and let those saucy layers, bubbling cheese, and heavenly aroma rev them up for the first bite.

Telling has its place -and for more on that, zip over here- but showing engages readers. It will bring them in close, make them feel involved, and awaken their emotions and memories.

One problem with show, don’t tell?

Somewhere along the way, it became so integrated with character emotion that writers didn’t necessarily think to use it for other things.

To be clear, showing emotion is great advice! I’m sure you’ve attended workshops and been told not to say your character is sad—instead, describe them standing at their school locker, clutching a break-up note, blinking fast and swallowing hard. If you’ve read The Emotion Thesaurus: A Writer’s Guide to Character Expression, you know Becca and I preach loud and proud about showing emotion. But it has so many other applications, so let’s recap a few.

Showing Can Anchor Readers in the Setting

When it comes to worldbuilding, readers should be able to imagine the character’s world and feel part of each scene.

Telling: The castle was massive, with stone walls and high towers.

Showing: The castle loomed over the village, its stone walls etched with centuries of wind and war. Torchlight flickered along the high towers, where banners snapped against the night sky.

Telling works for delivering details that aren’t important, but showing can draw a reader in, help them imagine what they reader, convey the history or importance of a location, and more.

Showing Can Set the Mood

Part of creating an experience is steering how readers should feel. The details we share, especially sensory description, can nudge them to view a setting a certain way—safe, dangerous, calming, worrying. It’s up to us.  

Telling: The alley was dark and scary.

Showing: The alley narrowed, its brick walls leaning inward, swallowing the last flickers of streetlight. Garbage bags sagged against dented cans, the air thick with something damp and rotting.

Here, telling is factual, but showing creates foreboding. Only one will push readers to eagerly read on to see what sort of bad thing is waiting in the dark.

Showing Can Define a Relationship Without Labels

Characters shouldn’t have to say they’re best friends, mortal enemies, or hopelessly in love. Their actions should make that obvious.

Telling: Jake and Connor had been best friends for years.

Showing: Jake barely knocked before pushing open Connor’s door. “Bro, I got a problem with someone and need backup.”
Connor shut his textbook. “Let’s go. I’m driving.”

Best friends? Yup! Telling would work if this friendship wasn’t relevant, but if it is, we need to see that closeness in action. Showing does that, pulling the reader along for the ride.

Showing Can Reveal Character Motivation

Characters need to have agency, doing and saying things for a reason. But if we just tell readers what’s driving them, it falls flat.

Telling: Olivia wanted to prove she was just as capable as her older brother.

Showing: Olivia tightened the laces on her running shoes. She could still hear her brother’s voice from last night: “You won’t last a mile.” Gritting her teeth, she stepped onto the track. She’d make it ten.

A character’s motivation is more likely to land with readers if they empathize with their reasons. Showing here utilizes a common human experience—a lack of support and voiced doubt—and places readers in Olivia’s corner. They want her to succeed.

Showing Helps Deepen Conflict and Stakes

If the stakes matter, readers should feel it.

Telling: If Sam lost, he’d have to leave town for good.

Showing: Sam rolled his poker chip across the felt. One hand. One chance.

Across the table, Mason smirked. “Don’t worry, I’ll pass on your goodbyes to everyone at the wedding tomorrow.”

Here, telling readers what’s at stake is equivalent to a sad trombone (womp-womp). Showing makes readers care about Sam and invest in what happens next.

Showing Can Showcase Characterization

Each character will have their own personality, talents, beliefs, tendencies, quirks, etc. How you convey who they are can mean the difference between a cardboard character and someone so authentic it feels like they stepped out of the real world.

Telling: Jonas was a germaphobe.

Showing: Jonas pinched the edge of his plate, avoiding contact. Across the table, a man sneezed into his palm, then grabbed the breadbasket. Jonas stiffened. Bacteria—everywhere. He chewed fast, breathed shallowly. The sooner he finished, the sooner he could scrub this place off his skin.

When we show it, Jonas’ fear feels authentic. Readers can surmise how this phobia will shape his life in the story.

Look for Opportunities to Make Your Story Immersive!

Showing can vastly improve a story, but crafting the right descriptions is not easy. This is why it can be so tempting to slip into telling. It’s worth the worth, though, when the situation in the story warrants showing.

It comes down to knowing what to show, and what to tell. Readers never need to know every little thing about the story and your characters, but they know the important stuff that helps them follow the story, care about the characters, and feel invested in the outcome.

Focus on what’s important, what readers need to know, and what makes them care the most. If you need help finding telling that you suspect needs to be converted to showing, try 7 Ways to Find Telling in Your Writing.