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Writer's pictureLahna Greene

From Tell to Show: Home


I've lived in Georgia all my life.


That comment conveys no sense of emotion or attachment to my home state. It's a tell: a classic example of what not to do in writing. Sometimes telling is necessary to move the plot, but a statement linked to home needs more beef, or it falls flat. Why should anyone care where I live? What does living here mean to me? Unless I give specifics, most people—unless they are also familiar with living in GA—would think, "So what?"


But say I show this picture of a mushroom I found in my yard? It gives more information and starts to paint an image of what life is like here.


I've lived in Georgia all my life: a state where funky mushrooms sprout overnight.


A few more details. Mushrooms are prevalent in the state. They pop up overnight. I like mushrooms or I wouldn't bother to take pictures of them. Now, we have an idea of a character and their attachment to their home. This is on its way to genuine showing.


How about giving it a tone? It goes deeper.


I've lived in Georgia all my life; I could never leave these strange and fascinating fungi.

I've lived in Georgia all my life, but I wish these wrinkly eyesores would wilt by noon.

I've lived in Georgia all my life, and I still have a phobia of shrooms.


Any of those sentences could kick off a story. What else does the character think about mushrooms? What will they do about it? Do they long to eat one even though many are poisonous? It could go anywhere.


The more relevance a statement has to a character or scene, the more it needs to be shown. Every author faces the challenge of balancing showing and telling. Too much telling and readers may not connect to a scene. Too much showing, and characters jerk around like malfunctioning robots after every line of dialogue. The fix?


How important is this detail?


This is a question I ask myself during every stage of editing. Telling still slips through my narrative, even when a detail needs to be shown. Let's go back to the mushroom example.


Birdie crouched down into the moist soil, her nose an inch from a rare specimen: a morel mushroom. She licked her lips and dug her fingers into the leaves. The scent of composting earth took her back to one of her earliest memories: her first encounter with the edible fungi.

That day, her diaper stuck to her in the humidity. She bent over with no aches in her knees and no glasses aiding her sight. She stretched out a tiny finger. As soon as she touched that delicate fold, her life changed.

I'll never leave Georgia, Mama. Thanks for passing on your nature wisdom and recipes.


Sensory details and tone make the statement, "I've lived in Georgia all my life" unnecessary. In this brief glimpse, readers are shown all of these tells:

- Birdie lives in Georgia

- Berdie loves morel mushrooms

- Morel mushrooms are edible*

- Berdie is old enough to need glasses and have knee pain

- Mushrooms grow in Georgia

- Georgia is humid

- Mushrooms played a pivotal part in Berdie's life and relationship with her mother


A slew of other hints are hidden in here, especially that last line of deep POV. They raise questions like what happened to Berdie's mom, and how exactly did mushrooms change her life?


How about a reverse engineer? If I convey the story through plain facts and tells, it looks like this:


Berdie is an older lady who lives in Georgia and likes morel mushrooms. She found one in her yard and remembered the day she first saw one. As soon as she touched it, her life changed. Berdie doesn't want to leave Georgia, the land where her mother taught her about nature and cooking.


So flat! And yet, this is good first draft material. One day, I'll learn to speed through a draft without dwelling on every single scene I may have to rearrange or discard later. Today is not that day. We all have our weaknesses. No matter what they are, keep up the writing.


*I learned about morel mushrooms when I looked up "wrinkly mushroom" to add depth to Berdie's story. Turns out, after all the warnings to never eat wild mushrooms, I could have picked and cooked this sucker. I doubt it's still underneath my azalea bushes, but I will check the next time I'm in the back yard.


Here's one final tell: I love mushrooms.


Keep on smilin'!

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