38 of you were brave enough to post a sample of your writing last week for me to critique. As I said, I can’t critique everyone, but I’ll do a fair number. The first person to post was Yeggy, and I think being first should count for something. Here’s Yeggy’s sample:
I tried to ignore the knocking on the door. If I pretended not to be here, whoever, or whatever was giving me a headache would soon get bored and leave. My life would return to normal. But the knocking didn’t stop and my life didn’t return to normal.
I huddled further under the bedcovers and chewed viciously on my fingernails. From the moment I woke up, I knew something was wrong. The weight and texture of the blankets had been a dead giveaway. Something was terribly wrong.
Randy sez: OK, this is a mixture of showing and telling. The main issue I see here is that we are not seeing the passage of time. This feels “out of time”. That’s a symptom of telling. The solution is to rewrite it using those mighty MRUs. (For a review of MRUs, see this article.)
I’ll take a shot at rewriting the piece. (This is always hazardous, so be warned that I may end up disimproving the section. You can be the judge of that.) I’ll start by showing the implied motivation that preceded the sample. You’ll note that I always put motivations and reactions in different paragraphs.
The knocking at the door came again.
I froze, clutching my sheets and trying not to breathe. If I ignore them, they’ll go away.
Knock, knock!
I huddled further under my bedcovers. Just . . . go away!
Knock, knock!
My teeth clamped down hard on my fingernails. I tasted blood. Go away!
Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock!
The blanket felt like a sandbag, pressing me into the bed. It smelled like a wet gunny sack.
I fought the urge to puke. Something is wrong. Something is horribly, horribly wrong.
Randy sez: The above has the advantage that it’s happening in real time, blow by blow. The disadvantage is that it takes a LOT of words. That’s the nature of showing. You use a lot of words. I’m sure a literary novelist could tell all this and capture the flavor in three paragraphs, but I’m no such beast.
I’m almost afraid to ask this, but . . . did I make it better or worse? And why?
Tomorrow . . . another critique. Maybe more than one.
Hi Randy,
Since showing is so much better than telling, thanks for showing us how to make the writing happen before our eyes. I’m looking forward to tomorrow’s “serving.”
It certainly has more emotional impact as showing, although it seems stretched to the limit. I am ready (as reader) to have a break in the anticipation.
You can only do so much with slow motion–and then you speed back up to show the result.
I’d say it depends on how dramatic it’s supposed to be. If this is an important moment, go ahead and let it be huge on the page. If it’s something in passing to set us up for an important moment, edit it down to a paragraph.
What a great example of how to take something you wrote and make it an MRU. Break it up, fill in the pieces, then see how you like it. I’d been wondering how to do that!
Thanks for this example, Randy.
It has really illustrated to me how MRU’s make it seem like I’m experiencing something as it is happening *now*, rather than listening to the tale of something that has happened.
That was a distinction I don’t think I fully grasped before.
Can’t wait to read more!
Your example increased the tension and urgency. I think that makes it better.
I thank you for taking the time to critique these pieces, as well as making them public so we can all learn something.
Since you asked, your example grabbed me, but I also agreed with Charlotte in that I was ready for a break in the anticipation.
I’m looking forward to more!
I want to also thank those who submitted samples. They’ve made for some interesting reading!
Fantastic example, Randy! I learn so much better from real life than I do from reading all the “how to” books I can get my hands on. Thanks so much for giving us a practical application of your teachings.
Oops! I was supposed to say why your version was better. Several reasons: I like that you showed the knocking over and over again. It’s one thing to say it, but showing it puts us inside the protag’s head. Second, by breaking this down into “real time,” we have a sense of the escalting fear the protag. feels. Also, you really breathed life into the example. While I liked what Yeggy was trying to communicate, it felt a little “flat.” Your emotions and reactions added depth and feeling to the scene that made reading it an “experience” rather than a narrative story.
I don’t know why, but spelling out sounds as actions–knock, knock, bang, bang–causes a “bump” in the reading for me. Am I the only one?
Moving the first action–froze, clutching my sheets–to the first helps us know the person is in bed (not clear till second paragraph of the original piece). And the quick progression of the rest- huddled, clamped, tasted, smelled–move the reader right into the middle of it, increasing the tension.
Thanks for the tutorial.
I WANNA KNOW WHO’S OUTSIDE THAT DOOR! (Wait, lemme get my shotgun first…)
Thanks SO MUCH for the link to the article. I bookmarked it to read again and again. Good stuff in there. 🙂
Yes, see this is the reason I LOVE those MRU’s so much – they really do create a scene where you feel like you’re living the story. Love it! I can’t wait to see what you do with the other examples.
Yes, see this is the reason I LOVE those MRU’s so much – they really do create a scene where you feel like you’re living the story. Love it! I can’t wait to see what you do with the other examples.
Some parts were better. But I lost the intrigue as to why the texture of the covers had anything to do with the future.
And it dragged a bit. I could have done without the second ‘knock, knock.’
My biggest problem with the original was a disconnect between the two paragraphs.
OK, now I’m going to stick in my untutored observation about show-versus-tell. After reading Stein, et all, I went back to the books that are selling well right now on Amazon for my current project (YA fiction.) I picked apart ‘Harry Potter’ and ‘Narnia’ for a baseline. The first has a lot of showing, it is, as Swain puts it, very ‘filmable’. The second involves a lot of telling. BUT — when C.S. Lewis ‘tells’ he has such a droll storyteller voice and style that the telling itself becomes part of the charm. I have listened to master storytellers on tape and in person, and believe me, when they tell, nobody loses the thread. They break up the endless monotony of showing, which reduces you to a blow-by-blow real-time grind or the jerky fast-forward of an action filmmaker. We only object to telling when the voice is boring.
Too much show does not work either, even for a visual generation. Unless, of course, you are writing for video gamers.
I think the reason most beginning writers need to learn how to show is that it forces them to actually figure out all the details. But if you know your readers, your characters and your storyworld really well, either will work.
The big question for me is, will they turn the page?
Randy: Re Content Issues
I agree with Angie, the repetition of knock, really works for me. It breaks up the time, mysteriously slows down the “shot” like a slow motion filming, and took me right into the action.
However, one thing that bothers me in the first write is related to content and shows up worse in yours: the biting of the fingernails. My image processing unit pulled me out with this–I really pictured a cartoony element where the character is sawing speedily (exaggerated fast frames)across the fingernails of both hands like sawing through corn.
In contrast, your rewrite mentions biting which produces blood. This made me wonder if the scene shouldn’t been rewritten with the character doing more than just huddling under blankets. I don’t think I would do that.
I’d get up and get something to protect myself with. Maybe stand behind the door with something to knock them with…or is there a window to climb out of? Or hide somewhere where at least they can “see” and then make a run for it? Better than cowering under blankets I think, and might make it more exciting too.
Blessings,
Joleena
I had to laugh when you said it took more words to write it your way. Yeggy’s original version totaled 87 words; yours was 90 🙂
But your rewrite vastly improved the entire scene, IMHO. It builds the tension with each sentence, and I definitely want to know who–or what–is behind that knocking!
Randy, this is a good example. Thanks! And groovyoldlady, I don’t think I’ll be stopping by your place unannounced.
I think the whole MRU thing is sinking in. I realize a lot of beginning writers do too much ‘telling’ and not enough ‘showing’. But how does one decide when a lot of tension is called for in a piece of writing and when less is needed? I think, if I’m reading things correctly, that more tension = more showing and less tension = more telling.
Randy’s take made it better, more attention grabbing and immediate. Which is what I was trying to do, but not getting it. So thanks a million Randy.
Thanks guys for taking the time to read and comment also. Randy’s re-write and your comments have given me a lot to think about.
Looking forward to learning more as you dissect more paragraphs, Randy. Thanks again.
Randy , Your critique created a much more exciting and believable scene. It was a great lesson in the power of MRU’s and how to use them to create that all-important P.E.E.
In Yeggy’s example I couldn’t figure out why something that terrible would get bored and just go away. I also wondered what the weight and texture of the bedding had to do with what was on the other side of the door.
Your use of the blanket conveyed a strong sensory image of fear, but I agree with Joleena on the finger nails. It broke the spell of terror and turned it into a moment of comic relief.
I liked the MRU version better, especially when able to compare the original to the revised version. Looking forward to reading more.
Your revision is riveting!
I like what ML Eqatin said about us only objecting to telling when the voice is boring. So true.