How to get rid of background exposition PART 2

 So let’s finish up Example Number 2 from last week.

Once again, the background exposition (telling):

I had been the youngest ever accepted into the Academy, and the quickest ever to graduate. Since then, I had sought out every acclaimed blade-wielder in the five kingdoms, and defeated them all. I had come to this city for one reason only; to challenge the last.

The fix (showing):

I rapped my knuckles on the bar to get the innkeeper’s attention. He finished drying a tankard before leaning towards me.

“What’ll ye have?”

“I need a room.”

“Name?”

“Lister.”

He snorted. “Any relation to Gavin Lister?”

“That’s me.”

The innkeeper chuckled.

Then he saw my serious expression and sobered momentarily in disbelief.

Then he laughed even louder.

“Ye want me to believe you’re the fellow made the best swordsmen in five kingdoms look like fools wavin’ broom handles? Ye’re not even old enough to go to the Academy.”

I sighed. Starting tomorrow, I was growing a beard. “Why don’t you pick out the best swordsman in this room?”

“And?”

“And if he kills me, you get everything I’m carrying here, which is more than enough gold to pay someone to mop up the blood. If I kill him, I get a room.”

My confidence made him hesitate, but as he eyed me, I saw him decide that I was bluffing. He smiled and began scanning the room for a suitable challenger.

A quarter of an hour later, I was following the innkeeper up a narrow flight of stairs. He kept glancing back over his shoulder at me, and after opening the door to my room, he stood aside to let me pass, his chin hanging open as if he was trying to say something.

“You’re…here to fight the Sword Master, then?” he said at last. His tone was a pleading, pathetic version of what it had been.

“That’s right.”

“No man has ever crossed blades with him and lived.”

“Good,” I said. “I’d hate to be unevenly matched.”

I shut the door and locked it.

So, did we hit the same points we hit last week? Let’s see…

Show the past by telling the present consequences

His past: accomplishing a lot at a very young age. The consequence: difficulty convincing strangers he really is Lister due to his young appearance.

Give your reader clues, not facts

We know he’s new in town because he’s looking for a room. We know he’s famous, because a stranger knows his name and history. We know he’s young because of the innkeeper’s disbelieving comments.

Work those clues into the action and dialogue

I let the innkeeper talk about Lister’s reputation, rather than letting Lister think it to himself; otherwise it sounds like bragging. Also, Lister’s action in actually fighting someone shows us he’s the real deal, rather than just somebody who forged a fake reputation and talks big. Lastly, as an added bonus, we see that he readily kills his opponents, and that he’s undefeated.

Be careful with dialogue, though. It’s easy to shove all your background exposition into dialogue and think it’s okay. It’s not.

Remember this rule of thumb: never make a character say something he wouldn’t naturally say. If you’re forcing words into his mouth, that’s how it will sound—forced.

Read more:

Show Don’t Tell on: description, telling to show, and character development.

Show, Don’t Tell: how to get rid of background exposition

Background exposition. When your characters have enough history to fill another whole book, but you’re not ready to write that book yet (or ever).

It usually looks like this (notice the proliferation of past perfect tense):

She had been living alone since her husband, Tom, left. He hadn’t stayed around long after their baby died. It had been a long, intensive labor, and the little girl, born a full month early, hadn’t survived.

Or this:

I had been the youngest ever accepted into the Academy, and the quickest ever to graduate. Since then, I had sought out every acclaimed blade-wielder in the five kingdoms, and defeated them all. I had come to this city for one reason only; to challenge the last.

 

Why is this a problem?

Because real people don’t go around summarizing their own histories in their heads. So when fictional people do it, it ruins the suspension of disbelief.

Now, let’s find a way to show.

We have to seamlessly work all the same details into an actual scene. Into action. Into dialogue. The trick is to plant clues for our readers. Let’s start with our first example:

It didn’t matter if no one else was around to appreciate it. It was Christmas Eve, for heaven’s sake; the house shouldn’t be completely devoid of twinkle lights and fake greenery. Maggie yanked down the attic stairs and ascended them with a flashlight.

She found the tree right away; it was still in the box it came in. Nothing else was labeled, of course. Waste of effort, Tom would say every year, I’ll remember which ones are which.

            “Fat lot of good that does me now, Tom,” she said aloud. She pulled up the flaps of the next closest box.

And stopped breathing.

A tiny pink dress stared up at her from atop a pile of tiny hats and tiny pairs of overalls and tiny white socks fringed with lace. She blinked. Tom must have put it up here. After he said he’d get rid of it all. She remembered, because she’d specifically asked him to.

            What else would I do with it? he’d snapped; I don’t know why we bought all this crap so early on, anyway.

            Early. Everything had been too early. The clothes. The morning. The baby.

            Maggie bowed her head and sobbed into the cardboard.

A little bit of past perfect tense sneaks in there, but it’s much more organic to the scene.

See how we use Maggie’s present to illustrate her past? See how we don’t actually come right out and say anything, but it’s all evident in what she’s doing and what she’s thinking? We never say Tom was her husband, but our readers see that they had a house together, celebrated holidays together, and at some point thought they were going to have a child. We never mention that the baby died, but from the baby’s absence, the boxed-up baby clothes, the couple’s angry conversation, the “early” tie-in, and Maggie’s tears, our readers get the message.

To sum up:

  • Show the past by telling the present consequences
  • Give your reader clues, not facts
  • Work those clues into the action and dialogue

Stay tuned: next week we’ll do a “showy” version of the second example.

Read last week’s post on how to “Show, Don’t Tell” with description.

Show, don’t tell: what it means and how to do it

 

CC Image by Scott Ogle

CC Image by Scott Ogle

It’s the first rule of writing. We hear it all the time. In fact, it’s almost all we hear. Over and over again, they tell us…

Show, don’t tell.

Show; don’t tell.

Show! Don’t tell!

In the name of all that’s good, what the heck does that mean???

Well, it’s kind of complicated. And it’s kind of hard to put your finger on it. And it’s kind of going to take more than one blog post. But let’s start with something simple.

Description!

Remember how we had so much fun guessing who the voices in Voice Week were, and where they came from and why they did the things they did?

We were able to do that because the writers were showing. Show Don’t Tell really means “don’t say it; convey it.” Separate facts from opinion, and then tell the facts in a way that guides your readers to the right opinion. In other words; don’t tell your readers the princess is beautiful; describe her in such a way that your readers say she’s beautiful.

Here’s an example:

She had long blonde hair and green eyes. She was beautiful.

Meh. Laundry list followed by the writer telling me what to think. Here’s a version that shows:

Her golden hair flowed all the way to her waist, and her eyes flashed, green as emeralds.

Cliché, I know, but the point remains: I never used the word beautiful; I didn’t have to. Words like golden, flowed, and emeralds show us she’s beautiful.

Now let’s step it up and try to cut out the cliché. Another way to show is to write the reactions of other people. Show the reader how the princess makes the knight feel. Not like this:

She made him feel nervous.

Or even this

He grew self-conscious under her gaze.

That’s telling your reader he’s nervous and self-conscious. Instead, give the reader clues and let them figure it out:

When she turned her head, her hair rippled, like wheat when the wind sweeps across it. When her green gaze fell on him, he forgot to breathe. When she smiled, his knees nearly gave out. And when she asked his name, his tongue stumbled all over his teeth to reply.

See how we used his physical reactions to show just how beautiful she is, without ever using the word? We also know the color of her hair without saying it.

We can even take the same laundry list (long blonde hair, green eyes) and twist it around completely:

Her hair, which stuck out in every direction, was lifeless and stiff, and exactly the same color as dead grass. He could imagine grabbing a handful and hearing a crunching sound. She felt his stare and glared back, but her eyes were lifeless as well, dull as a faded tapestry.

Ultimately, telling is just giving your readers knowledge. Showing is helping your reader see and hear and feel what’s happening. It’s the difference between being told the princess is beautiful, and believing the princess is beautiful.

Read more about Show, Don’t Tell:

Getting rid of background exposition (part 1)

Getting rid of background exposition (part 2)

Character sketches: telling to show

Character development

man without mouth

Show, don’t tell: What it means and how to do it

Show, don’t tell: on hiding morals in stories

If you’re like me, you believe that fiction – more precisely, the story – is one of the most powerful forces on earth. And if we don’t use that power to try to make the world a better place, we are wasting a gift.

Trouble is, if you have an agenda – whether political, religious, or moral – your readers will smell it from a mile away, and it will make them mad. Not in the “oh, this is controversial” kind of mad, but the “quit trying to sell me something” kind of mad. Because, no matter how worthy the cause, you are selling something; a point of view.

As a copywriter for an advertising agency, I have a full time job selling things through writing – before you get out your pitchforks, hear me out; I’m a novelist first and foremost  – and I’ve learned the difference between good advertising and bad, and how the same difference can make your novel a powerful message instead of a soapbox sermon. That difference is simple: a poorly-moralized novel just says “believe me” in the same way a bad advertisement just says “buy me.” It touts its own benefits, insults the competition, and ultimately cares for nothing but the message. Much like that closeout furniture salesman who waves his arms and yells “lowest prices ever!” at the camera.

On the other side, the message-in-a-novel done well cares about the story. That story is driven by the characters, not by an agenda. Take the eBay commercial above (click through if you’re reading in RSS or email). eBay didn’t just say “buy stuff from us!” – in fact, they didn’t say it once. Instead, they created a character and a story we could relate to. It’s simple, but it’s moving, and the message (buy stuff on eBay) is an organic part of that story, not just tacked on at the end. It is, in fact, a prime example of show-don’t-tell.

Do not, then, simply construct a story to serve your agenda. Instead, when you  write your novel, put aside your agenda for a moment. Focus on your characters and the story they create with their personalities, desires, and actions. Write as honestly as possible, and if you are truly pouring your soul into it, a deeper meaning will grow naturally out of the story.

Remember to make your villain – the character with the opposing viewpoint – as realistic as possible. Don’t become bigoted in your passion, making the villain stupid, heartless, or insane. Make them as smart, as human, as grounded as you are. Argue both sides of the question, and do it with conviction. Otherwise, your novel will be nothing but a 300-page commercial.

So the moral of this story is, focus on the story, not the moral.

What books that you’ve read seemed to be selling a certain point of view? Which ones delivered a message that seemed to spring forth naturally?

How to write with body language

55% of human communication is nonverbal.

Which means more than half of what you say is nothing but expressions and gestures and eye contact.

Which means if you use nothing but “he said” and “she replied” to tag dialogue, your readers are missing half the message. Besides which, body language is also an effective way to show tone without “telling” tone. For instance:

“Hmmm,” she said unhappily/happily/thoughtfully. [All “telling”]

“Hmmm,” she frowned.

“Hmmm,” she smiled.

“Hmmm,” she tapped her lips with one finger.

We have the additional benefit of cutting the dialogue tag, “said,” which can get annoying in large doses.

Of course, use of body language isn’t limited to dialogue. You can say a lot without actually saying anything (useful if, like me, you are terrible at writing dialogue):

He hunched in his chair, elbows on knees, head in hands.

She bit the corner of her bottom lip, her gaze darting left and right.

He frowned, stroking his chin.

She leaned back and folded her arms, tapping her fingers against her skin.

He cocked one eyebrow, smirking.

There are countless other gestures to illustrate countless other emotions. Here are a few (in totally random order). Got any other good ones? Leave ‘em in the comments!

Grin

Smirk

Grimace

Furrow brow

Wrinkle forehead

Slap forehead

Twiddle thumbs

Twitch/tick

Bite nail

Suck thumb

Pick nose

Run hand through hair

Twirl hair

Skip

Amble

Stroll

Lumber

Swagger

Shuffle

Bob head

Flare nostrils

Wink

Nod

Shake head

Hug self/knees

Rub arms

Shudder

Shiver

Tremble

Scratch

Rub eye

Slouch

Tilt head to one side

Meet gaze

Look in the eye

Gaze slide to floor

Blink

Start

Shrug

Sigh

Sniff

Swallow

Wrinkle nose

Squint

Shift weight

Cross legs

Eyes glitter

Eyes glint

Clap

Snap fingers

Thread fingers

Fold hands

Nose in air

Look down nose

Look sideways

Peer

Glance

Stare

Glare

Purse lips

Push hair out of eyes