It’s time to tackle the greatest writing rule of all time. Can you guess what it is from the quote below?
Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.” ~ Anton Chekhov
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”
Show, don’t tell. When I first heard this rule as a baby writer (aka a kid who loved to write stories), it annoyed me. But that was because I didn’t truly understand it. So we can all avoid that lack of knowledge and truly shine in our work, here are two simple points to understand this rule and two tips to apply it:
The Greatest Writing Rule: Understand It
1. Writing Is Art
A wise, elder friend of mine (a fellow writer and terrible artist, just like me) decided that people like us who possess no drawing skills whatsoever still produce art, just not the painting kind. Instead, Jerry said, “We paint pictures with words.”
When we think of writing as art, it’s easier to see it creatively—colorfully, not just black on white—and therefore gain the mindset of crafting images for our readers instead of phrases, showing them a scene instead of telling them about it.
2. Share Ideas; Don’t State Facts
The point of good writing is to hide the fact that it’s writing. We should plant ideas in our readers’ minds without them realizing it. Why? That’s how we get them engrossed—when they forget they’re reading. They absorb our ideas, feeling our work as it hits them at a deeper level.
The Greatest Writing Rule: Apply It
1. Use Unusual Words
Note Chekhov’s example. The phrase he warns against includes the words “moon” and “shining.” These are average words. Bland.
The phrase that pops—that brings a vivid image to mind—includes the words “glint” and “broken.” Not only do these words create an excellent picture, but they also suggest a mood (note suggest, not actually spell out). And depending on the surrounding words and sentences, there is a vast array of possible moods for this particular piece.
2. Think Abstractly
This is the challenging part, and the part we just have to practice, practice, and practice to get right. We have to think beyond telling a story.
The best way to tell you how to do this is to show you. (See what I did there?)
When we recall an event, we think of it chronologically, concretely, and practically. We might tell it straightforwardly, like this:
I was driving to the store. The light turned yellow, but I was so close I figured I could make it through. I thought I was safe, but then I saw the police car behind me and knew I was toast when he turned his sirens on.
This is how we talk. In speech, that’s fine. However, in print, the above story is not interesting. We don’t have the storyteller’s developing blush, awkward hand gestures, and self-conscious smile to amuse us. We only have plain black words on a white page.
Thus, when we write a story, we must devise clever ways to tell it without the reader realizing we’re telling it. We have to show the story. When we do that, it might look more like this:
The orangey glow appeared at the perfect point—the point you decide you can make it, but too late realize you should have stopped. I sailed through as the orange became pink. Adrenaline up, I held my breath, as if doing so somehow made me invisible. I must have thought it worked, because after a moment I relaxed, slowly exhaling as I sheepishly glanced around. That’s when my eye caught in the corner of my rearview mirror: flashing blue and red. I swallowed and frantically tried to remember where my turn signal was.
In this account, notice that the words “driving,” “light,” “police car,” “sirens,” etc., are not used, yet we still get the idea. There is still a story. Additionally, the moods or emotions of regret, fear, embarrassment, and panic are implied while not actually spelled out.
There’s one more element that makes this mini vignette engaging. It’s relevant. Anyone who drives can relate to the fear of running a red light. The author may or may not have experienced this…after all, the other greatest rule of writing is to write what you know… That is how we make our writing realistic. We put ourselves in it—our emotions, feelings, moods, us.
When you write real, you get real writing. As a result, your reader gets a real experience.
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