Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Show, don't tell

Hey. For those of you who know me (or feel you do), the thing that I would like to do when I "grow up" (ha, like that's ever going to happen) is write. Ideally, because I love TV and film, I'd like to write scripts but I'll take what I can get (I would like to write a novel at some point, and I've written a short play) So recently I have been trying to hone my writing skills a bit, a thing which I have tried to do most summers but haven't really gotten round to properly, prior to this year, as is possibly apparent by my return to blogging. However, when writing creatively, as opposed to this, which I consider much more conversational, stream of thought stuff, I have been having difficulty recently with the idea of "Show, don't tell". 

This phrase is one of the most common pieces of advice you will get as a writer, it is what, in the eyes of most people, distinguishes the the greats from the gruesome, aces from the amateurs, the marvelous from the mediocre (the alliteration abusers from the ably articulating anteaters). And it is difficult. More difficult than I realised up until recently. for some reason, this has never been an obvious problem for me. I would write my stories, create characters, drop hints here and there about them and the situation, dialogue, descriptions, all that jazz. No problem. 

But recently, my writing has been different. Not simply because I have been trying to write longer pieces but because I have been thinking in film. This idea is probably a good thing, considering that my ultimate goal is to write for film and TV but it is hella distracting when you want to write something subtle and cannot for the life of you find any subtlety. True, it fluctuates. Some days I can write things that could keep someone guessing. But regarding most the things happening in the scene itself, no way. If I want a character to be alarmed by something, I have to say he was alarmed, even if the protagonist doesn't realise that he is so, or know why. If I want a character to briefly look down to signify something then I have to say so making my intent gapingly obvious

This. Kills. Me. 

I fail to comprehend how I dealt with this in the past. How I coped with the exasperatingly difficult problem of keeping things from your reader when you have to describe every little thing. Reading back over my writing I cannot not think (even though I may be reading far too much into it) "This is in here and it seems to have no relevance, so the reader will know it's foreshadowing". The thing with "Showing and not telling" is that it is virtually IMPOSSIBLE when one is telling a story. Telling. It's in the freaking description. 
I have no idea what I'm doing

This is, I've realised (though probably much later than my subconscious), why I want to work with the medium of film. Subtlety. I've always been a very visual person, so I love the idea that you can tell a whole story with someone's reaction to something. When you have to describe that reaction, no matter how briefly, so much of the element of surprise is lost. In a TV show, if someone has a moment of discovery but then has to hide it, the viewer might miss it. If they do catch it, the viewer is intrigued and the mind writes the stories itself. It isn't likely that a reader will miss something as clearly leading as: 

"X stopped for a moment, as the details finally clicked into place. He quickly composed himself, however, for fear that Y would notice and ask the wrong questions."

Now, it may just be my writing style, but that doesn't exactly scream "subtle" (is "scream subtle" an oxymoron?). I guess it's part of the craft. I am determined to work past it, this will will not defeat me. I am, at heart, a wordsmith, and so help me, I will make a badass sword and slay this writers block. Or die trying. Or maybe just fall asleep.

Embrace the Madness

1 comment:

  1. There there. I'd tell you how to fix this but than I'd just be a hypocrite.

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