Show and Tell—The Best Thanksgiving Story Ever

By Yvonne DiVita - Oct 25 , 2007

One of the hardest concepts in writing is the “Show, don’t tell!” concept. When creative writers put pen to paper or fingers to keyboard, these days, they usually think everything they produce has an element of “showing” to it. After all, isn’t, “She ran like the wind to the store” showing?

Well, no, it isn’t—it’s telling.

Scene description, personality traits, and plot lines all involve reader buy-in, and readers are more likely to buy-in if they feel themselves being part of the story. It’s hard to be part of the story when you don’t feel connected to it, and it’s hard to connect to the story when the writer is “reporting” or “telling” rather than demonstrating or showing. To rewrite the sentence at the end of the first paragraph, above, as showing, you might say, “Her feet flew over the pavement faster than her brother’s bike wheels, and no matter how hard he pumped his legs, she wasn’t going to let him win the race to the candy store.”

Oh, Stop! You’re Just Saying That . . .

As a novice writer ‘back in the day,’ I remember struggling mightily with this concept, spending hours creating just the right scene. I would describe the room, the furniture, the people, and then I’d craft wonderful conversations, all in an effort to show the reader what was happening. And, though I was heading in the right direction, my writing was mainly reporting. I told the reader what was happening—I didn’t show the reader what was happening. I told them the color of the main character’s jacket and her hair and her eyes. I told them she was prissy or prudish or a wild child, full of excitement. I told them everything they needed to know, for heaven’s sake. I told them so much, they got bored with the story and complimented me on my descriptive talents, but on little else.

Over and over again I tried to create story-showing instead of story-telling. I read everything I could on the subject, especially articles in Writer’s Digest, the bible for new writers. And gradually, over time, I began to see the light. I began to understand that description was not always in the details. The story, I learned, should carry itself in the showing, not the telling. The story should be all about the characters, and the characters should behave as real people behave. They should always be showing the reader what was happening and preparing the reader for what was going to happen next.

Show Me the Turkey

For instance, the wonderful days of Thanksgiving are on the horizon. I say “days” because we all celebrate throughout the appointed Thursday and through Friday, sometimes all the way into Saturday and Sunday. We eagerly anticipate the family camaraderie and the lavish table setting, complete with roasted turkey, dressing, cranberry sauces, and pumpkin pie.

If you were to describe a typical scene in a story about Thanksgiving, how would you do it? Would you write something similar to what I’ve written in the previous paragraph? Would you include details of the meal – the turkey, the cranberry sauce, the mashed potatoes, the pumpkin pie, and all the other accouterments? Or would you stop telling me about it and show me something like this:

Thanksgiving was the single most important day of the year at Beth’s house. From the time she was a little girl, the family celebrated at Grandma Anne’s house. “I remember the fancy tablecloth,” Beth told Bonnie as she closed the door of their dorm room behind her. As she talked, her eyes sparkled and she reached out two fingers to touch the fringe of Bonnie’s suede jacket; poor Bonnie, who came from somewhere in Ireland and had never celebrated Thanksgiving, the finest of all American holidays.

“The tablecloth was orange and tan–it felt like silk, but I don’t think it was. It had turkeys sewn into it that looked so real, I always thought they were going to hop off and strut around the table, gobbling up all the best food. And talk about food—we had the juiciest, brownest turkey in town! Always right next to the big bowl of mashed potatoes, oh yeah! My mother used her biggest mixing bowl – enough to fit 10 pounds of potatoes, steaming hot, with butter melting in the middle! My brother used to shove me out of the way to get at those hot mashed potatoes swimming in a pool of clear, rich, yellow butter. He would drag his elbow through the squash and peas to get at them, and it was the funniest thing. One Thanksgiving, he tipped the gravy bowl over and gravy spilled into the salad! I laughed so hard I fell on the floor, and my father shoved me aside with his foot so he could take my place in line!” Bonnie’s laughter burst from her throat like a child’s hiccups. “Oh, he didn’t!” she said, shaking her head until her red hair flew from side to side.

The goal of those two last paragraphs was to SHOW you who the characters were, give you a glimpse into their personalities and SHOW you the scene. I chose to use Thanksgiving because it’s looming on the horizon, and at my house we’re already drooling in anticipation. If I was successful in showing, you should be drooling, too.

Narrative Times Three

To truly understand the fine line between showing and telling, you need to ask yourself three questions:

1. Does the narrative draw the reader in?
2. Does the narrative create enough ongoing interest so the reader will continually want to know what happens next?
3. Can the reader relate to what you’re saying?

If you’ve crafted a showing paragraph, the reader will be drawn in to the story and will be eager to keep reading. Showing means crafting content that your audience easily visualizes and relates to emotionally. The reader must believe what she is reading and must, however subtly, believe that it is truly happening—not merely that it could happen, but that it is happening. Creative writing teachers call this “suspending disbelief.” Showing involves using description and adjectives that mean something to the reader –not just telling her what’s happening, but creating the reality in her mind’s eye, where she actually lives it.

Don’t just tell me there’s turkey and mashed potatoes on the table; create a visual scene that has me experiencing them, even tasting them. Show me the steam rising mistily, the family interacting playfully, the table setting sparkling cheerfully in everyone’s eyes – and then move on and show me the how and the why, supporting your opening statement that Thanksgiving is the single most important day of the year for Beth and her family.