‘Show Don’t Tell’ Is Ruining Your Writing

The Most Misunderstood Rule in Writing

“Show, don’t tell” is the most frequently cited—and most frequently misapplied—writing advice in existence. New writers hear it and try to show everything, turning simple statements into elaborate pantomimes. Experienced writers know the truth: sometimes you should show, sometimes you should tell, and wisdom lies in knowing which is which.

What “Show, Don’t Tell” Actually Means

The core principle: instead of telling readers what to think or feel, create an experience that leads them to think or feel it themselves.

Telling: Sarah was nervous about the interview.

Showing: Sarah checked her reflection three times before leaving the bathroom. In the elevator, she rehearsed answers to questions no one had asked yet. Her hands wouldn’t stop straightening her jacket.

The first states a fact. The second creates an experience. Readers don’t just know Sarah is nervous—they feel it alongside her.

But here’s what the rule doesn’t say: you should always choose the second option. Sometimes “Sarah was nervous” is exactly right.

When to Show

Emotional High Points

The scenes that matter most—the pivotal moments, the revelations, the climaxes—deserve full dramatization. If your protagonist’s heart breaks, we should feel it break, not just be told it did.

Character-Defining Moments

Actions reveal character more powerfully than summary. Don’t tell us someone is brave; show them acting bravely. Don’t tell us they’re kind; show them noticing the security guard’s birthday.

Key Information

Information that readers need to remember or believe requires dramatization. A detail shown in scene sticks; a detail summarized slides past.

First Instances

The first time readers encounter something—a character trait, a relationship dynamic, a setting—show it fully. Later instances can be summarized because readers already have the foundation.

When to Tell

Transitions

“Three weeks passed” is perfectly good writing. You don’t need to dramatize every day of those weeks to establish that time moved.

Minor Information

Not everything matters equally. If your character’s eye color doesn’t affect the plot, “she had green eyes” is fine. Save your showing for what counts.

Pacing Control

Showing slows narrative pace; telling speeds it up. If you need to move quickly through a section—establishing context, summarizing a period, transitioning between major scenes—telling is your tool.

Repetition

You’ve shown us Sarah’s nervous habits once. The tenth time she faces stress, you can simply note “her old nervousness returned” rather than restaging the entire performance.

Common Knowledge

You don’t need to demonstrate that fire is hot or that funerals are sad. Shared understanding can be stated directly.

The Spectrum Between Show and Tell

Show and tell aren’t binary options—they’re endpoints on a spectrum. Consider these versions of the same information:

Pure tell: He was angry.

Summarized showing: He stormed around the house, slamming doors.

Brief scene: He picked up the vase from the mantle, examined it for a moment, and hurled it against the wall. Shards scattered across the hardwood. He stood there, breathing hard, fists clenched.

Extended scene: [Full dramatization with dialogue, internal monologue, physical detail, etc.]

Each has its place. Match the amount of showing to the importance of the moment.

Emotional Telling: The Hidden Problem

The most damaging kind of telling isn’t “she was nervous”—it’s telling readers how to feel about what they’ve just witnessed:

She watched him walk away, his silhouette disappearing into the fog. It was the saddest moment of her life.

That last sentence doesn’t add information—it tells readers what emotional response they should have. If your scene is working, readers already feel the sadness. If it isn’t, this sentence won’t create it.

Trust your readers. If you’ve done the showing well, you don’t need to add the telling.

Filtering: A Subtle Form of Telling

Filter words create distance between readers and experience:

“She saw the door swing open. She heard footsteps approaching. She felt her heart begin to race.”

Compare:

“The door swung open. Footsteps approached. Her heart hammered.”

The second version puts readers inside the experience rather than watching the character have it. “She saw,” “she heard,” “she felt,” “she noticed,” “she realized”—these words often tell rather than show.

Dialogue Attribution: Show and Tell Together

Dialogue offers a perfect example of how show and tell work together:

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said angrily, her hands shaking as she pushed back from the table.

“Angrily” is telling; “hands shaking as she pushed back” is showing. You often don’t need both:

“I can’t do this anymore.” She pushed back from the table, hands shaking.

The action shows the emotion; the adverb becomes redundant.

Showing Through Specificity

The strongest showing is specific rather than general:

General: The room was messy.

Specific: Pizza boxes formed a pyramid by the TV, and somewhere under the pile of clothes on the couch, his phone kept buzzing.

General: She was a careful person.

Specific: She alphabetized her spices, backed up her computer every Tuesday, and had never once forgotten an umbrella.

Specific details do double duty: they establish facts while implying character, mood, or meaning.

Exercise: The Show/Tell Audit

Take a page from your current project. For each piece of information, ask:

• Is this shown, told, or somewhere between?
• How important is this information to the story?
• Does the amount of showing match the importance?

You’ll likely find you’re over-showing minor details and under-showing crucial ones.

Exercise: Translation Practice

Take these telling sentences and show them instead:

• “He was exhausted.”
• “The house felt haunted.”
• “She loved him but would never admit it.”
• “The town was dying.”

Then ask: In what contexts would the original telling sentence be the better choice?

The Real Rule

“Show, don’t tell” isn’t really a rule—it’s a reminder that experience is more powerful than summary. But experience takes time, and not everything deserves equal time.

The real skill is knowing when to immerse readers in the moment and when to move efficiently past it. Show what matters; tell what doesn’t. And always remember: the best prose balances both, using each where it serves the story.

A novel that shows everything would be exhausting. A novel that tells everything would be boring. The magic is in the mix.