Saturday Guest Blogger: Jill Monroe!
Saturday, November 24th, 2007
Many of you here in the romancelandia blogosphere know author Jill Monroe as Blaze author extra-ordinaire, wickedly clever friend of Gena Showalter, appreciator of Monday Beefcake and thief of gnomes. I’m lucky to also know Jill as a fabulously funny writer who’s one of the coolest people I’ve met. I’m thrilled to have her as a Saturday guest blogger today at Plotmonkeys…especially with a topic that all writers grapple with. Welcome, Jill!———————————————-
Show, Don’t Tell…Except When You Don’t
You’ll hear it often, and as a writer, they’re words to live by: Show Don’t Tell. When I was unpublished, I used to enter a lot of chapter writing contests, and would often find “Show Don’t Tell” written in the margins (often with bright red pen and many exclamation marks!!!).
In fact, Wikipedia has devoted an entire entry to Show Don’t Tell, defining SDT as allowing “the reader to experience the story through a character’s action, words, thoughts, senses, and feelings rather than through the narrator’s exposition, summarization, and description.”
However, I think that great admonition is missing something. Show Don’t Tell - But Don’t Give Away The Farm!
Now I’m in a position to judge some of those very same chapter writing contests I used to enter, and I think the advice has really absorbed and resulted in some fabulous writing. But with all good things there’s usually a flip-side - now people are showing too much. There’s absolutely great description, as a reader my senses are thoroughly engaged but it goes on and on for paragraphs. Sometimes pages.
I found Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules Of Writing (by way of HelenKay Dimon) and rule #10 is this: “Try to leave out the part that readers tend to skip.”
I laughed out loud when I read this. Sounds so simple, but in actuality can be so difficult. However, I can tell you with some certainty, showing too much is what readers want to skip. I’ll take an example from my own work (primarily because I have it already typed up and I’m all about easy). This is from Primal Instincts, out February 2008 from Harlequin Blaze. The scene opens with him trying to find a place to park:
A few blocks ahead, he finally spotted a flashing parking garage sign, missing several red and yellow bulbs. After another five minutes in the busy one-way traffic of downtown Oklahoma City, he pulled under the awning.
The attendant tugged the earbuds from her ear as he approached.
“Five dollars.”
He fished in his pocket for the bills, glad he’d converted all his Euros into dollars before boarding the 747 that deposited him on the plains of Oklahoma.
The attendant handed him an orange ticket. “Put that in your window,” she said as she returned the buds back into her ears and jammed out to whatever twentysomethings in Oklahoma listened to.
After searching for a spot on the first level, not finding anything on the second, Ian finally scored on the third floor. Ian carefully parked his rental, placed the orange ticket on the dash as instructed, then he fished out the map he’d printed off of google while still in Manhattan. Ian sighed. Two blocks.
The Oklahoma sun beat down on his neck as he lunged between the businessmen and women talking on their phone during their lunch break and grabbing a bite to eat. Hopping place.
Ian glanced once more at the paper in his hand, and the address on the large red-bricked building that looked nothing more than an abandoned warehouse. They matched, this must be the place. He hiked up the steps that led to the intercom system. This had recently had some attention. Still old, but scrubbed clean. He pressed the black button under the only name on the list. Simms.
“Hello,” came a female voice. Sultry and pleasant.
“I’m looking for Ava Simms.”
“You found her. Had lots of workers today. Top floor.”
The buzz announced she’d allowed him entrance, and he picked up his camera, mini-recorder and laptop and walked toward the elevator.
Okay, I could go on and on (and obviously I have), but why would you want to read that?
But what’s the problem? I’m showing, not telling. It’s not bad writing (at least I hope it’s not)…the problem is that I’m showing way too much. It’s not anything to the story. In fact, it’s probably even encouraging people to skip to the dialogue. But what I’ve given there is just conversation, and once again not even interesting conversation at that. Most everyone has parked in a garage. Most everyone knows to display their stub, etc. Sure you want to touch on those universal experiences that tie your reader into your character, but not at the expense of being entertaining.
When looking at any scene, ask yourself these questions:
1. Does this move the story forward?
2. Does this slow the action down?
3. Can this be cut and the meaning still be the same?
This is what that scene became - one paragraph that (hopefully) engages the reader:
Finally he just parked in the red brick garage he’d found, paid his five bucks and hiked the few blocks to her warehouse loft apartment. All while lugging his camera, mini-recorder and laptop. He looked down at the paper in his hand confirming her address. Top floor, of course. She buzzed him in, and he headed for the elevator. He hated elevators. Every family member he had insisted on living on the top floor. He’d rather be chased to the border than be trapped in a metal box suspended by a string.
Sometimes, it’s hardest to find this in your own work, especially when you’re struggling to get those words on the page in the first place, or you might really like that whole earbud scene because that is SO your 16 year-old nephew! But now’s the time to be ruthless, merciless and brutal. Harden your heart, and be ready to cut. If you like something, create a new file just for cut scenes (I do that) you might find a place for that later in the book or in a completely new book.
Since it’s hardest to find the “giving away of the farm” in your own writing, one exercise you can try is to add to a scene of someone else’s. See how the writer kept the story moving forward by YOU slowing it down.
I’ll use a paragraph from Julie Leto’s upcoming book, Phantom Pleasures, out in April 2008. By the way, I chose Julie because she asked me to join you all on Plot Monkeys (and no good deed goes unpunished) and I just don’t get the feeling that Julie gets messed with enough by her friends (see this post on the PlotMonkeys a few weeks ago)
Phantom Pleasures by Julie Leto
Alexa Chandler closed her eyes. The stone against her back, so cold only moments before, suddenly warmed. The heat eased through the thin layer of her clothes and ignited her skin. She could feel the green-gray eyes of the man in the portrait staring down at her. Into her.
Giving Away The Farm of Phantom Pleasures NOT by Julie Leto
Alexandra “Alexa” Chandler closed her eyes. She smiled as she thought of the woman who’d been her namesake. The severe lady scared her with those sharp “you-can’t-hide-a-thing-from-me” looks, but also cultivated her granddaughter’s strong will. A will that gave her the strength to fight her way to the top of her profession - hotel development. Her business card might say Alexandra, but standing in the lower level of her most recent find, she was all Alexa, creative and ready to envision what this property could become.
She leaned against the stone, so cold only moments ago, already warming from her body heat. The heat eased through the thin layer of her pale blue silk shirt, and ignited her skin. Once clammy now she felt red-hot.
“Hey,” said a voice behind her.
She turned to see her brother. “Hi yourself.”
“What are you looking at?” he asked.
She raised her hand, her nails displaying her neat french manicure, “That painting,” she said. Her voice trailing away.
Alexa could feel his eyes, same color as the green-gray of the sea on a stormy, she felt the eyes of the man in the portrait staring down at her. Into her.
*********
I don’t even know if Alexa had a grandmother in the picture or even if Alexa is short for anything, but you can see how showing unnecessary dialogue, unneeded description, and information that could be sprinkled in elsewhere in the story detracts from what Julie has written. That first paragraph was excellent as Julie had it - and really drew the reader into the story right off the bat.
Okay, so do you want to join in the exercise? It’s actually kind of fun. Since Julie was such a good sport I should only be the same. Here is the opening paragraph of my November 2007 Blaze, Tall, Dark and Filthy Rich. Your challenge is to make it give away the farm. I’ll select two winners - one will be random and one will be the “worst” entry. The prize will be one book from my backlist or Primal Instincts when it becomes available. If you live out of the country, and are the winner, a suitable gift certificate will take the book’s place.
Here you go - work it!
Tall, Dark and Filthy Rich, by Jill Monroe
“Ever think maybe you’re in the wrong line of work?” Dana, the reporter from the Atlanta Daily News, asked in a bored tone as she flipped a Skittle into her mouth.
“No. Why?” Jessica Huell shrugged. So much for the great article the reporter planned to write about Atlanta’s Most Interesting Professionals. Clearly, Jessie’s execution of her current job was proving to be a dud, and she’d really hoped the exposure from the proffered feature in the newspaper would swing a little more business her way.
Movement caught her eye. “Wait, get down,” Jessie said, as she pushed Dana’s head below the dashboard.
