Showing vs Telling: Emotional Depth
One of the most frequent go-tos touted to struggling authors is: “Show, don’t tell.” It’s become almost a holy grail among the writing community, a standard bit of advice that is pushed onto new authors. But what does that line really mean? And how, exactly, does one actually go about showing, instead of telling?
If you were to ask most people, their response would be in regard to description. "Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass,” a quote most often attributed to Anton Chekhov, is another beloved pet phrase among writers wanting to help their peers. And while the quote is indeed poignant, show vs tell goes much deeper than just adding more description.
Where many authors struggle is conveying emotion.
One of the most common mistakes writers, especially newer writers, make is that a character’s emotions are laid bare upon the page. New writers often struggle to trust their readers, fearing if they don’t describe exactly what their character is experiencing, it won’t get through. But sometimes subtlety and understatement actually—believe it or not—add to the emotional resonance of a scene. And masterfully conveying these emotions on the page is an integral part of showing your reader the tone you want to convey, rather than blandly telling them. No one gets excited to jump into prose that reads like a grocery list of facts.
Let’s start by looking at two important tools an author has at his/her/their disposal:
Sensory experience. An often overlooked but extremely vibrant way of conveying emotion on the page is through a character’s senses. Writers often describe what a character might see—which is important—but go on to neglect the other senses. We, as human beings, are sensory creatures. We rely on our senses to understand and interpret our environments. So, in a given scene, what might your character be sensing, physically? You might create a tone of discomfort or tension by describing the itchy, coarse fabric of a sweater rubbing up against their skin. A sense of foreboding or being ill-prepared may be described through a pervasive cold that penetrates through a cardigan that feels all too thin. A happy character might pause to listen to the call of songbirds, which feel peaceful and assure us everything is as it should be. They might inhale the warm aroma of freshly made bagels and rich coffee, both of which are relatable and symbolize mornings to most readers. By indulging in a character’s senses, you enrich the depth of your scene, set an expectation and tone, and create emotional resonance without bluntly saying how a character is feeling in that moment.
Setting. A common struggle with authors is known as “white room syndrome,” in which he/she/they get so carried away in writing what’s happening in the scene, that the environment in which it takes place is all but forgotten. Just like with the senses, giving a solid setting to where each of your scenes happens helps keep your reader immersed and grounded in your story. Your plot will still be readable, but you’ll likely start losing your reader if he/she/they have nothing to anchor and fuel their imagination. Remember to envision a clear picture of what your setting is for each scene, and to portray it on the page. This doesn’t mean you have to go into rambling paragraphs or pages of description, but just picking and choosing some of the important elements of a place is enough to ground your scene. And just like with sensory input, setting itself can be an incredible tool for conveying emotion in subtle ways. Inadequate lighting, a scent of something slightly rancid, and upturned furniture go a long way to create tension without having to simply describe that your character is tense.
Some further notes on marrying both of these tools: as people, we only notice limited aspects of our environment, and often what we notice will depend on our mood, how tired we are, or what is currently happening in our lives. The same environment might have a different feel to it entirely, depending on how its perceiver is feeling. A happier, more carefree person might have their attention drawn to a photograph of a pleasant memory framed on the wall, or a thriving houseplant in the corner. The same person, when falling into depression or stress, might notice hairline cracks along the plaster of the walls, the unkempt mess of clothes that they’ve let pile up on the floor, or the dust that’s come to settle on and partially obscure that same once-happy photograph. They might notice how loud the neighbors are through thin walls.
We carry a piece of ourselves wherever we go, and we perceive the world through the lens of our experiences. Keep that in mind when creating and describing a scene. Setting and the senses used to perceive it are fantastic tools to show your reader emotional depth on the page and fuel your plot.
Further learning resources:
I’ve created a printable worksheet for emotional showing vs telling that you are welcome to download and use. This worksheet and guide can be used over and over for as many scenes as you need. You can find the worksheet here.
I will be adding more learning resources, worksheets, and guides for authors over time, so check back to the resources page in the future!