Writing Rules That Were Made to Be Broken: Show Don't Tell
There's a distinctly rebellious air about the Muse and the Marketplace Conference this year. Come April 6-8 at Boston's Park Plaza, #Muse18 presenters will be letting loose on the writing rules that have held our manuscripts hostage for far too long. To kick off the conversation ahead of the Muse weekend, this year's Muse series explores the writing, publishing, and workshop rules, conventions, and accepted norms that authors, agents, and editors at the Muse love to hate -- and why they'd love to see them broken. Some presenters will also offer their own rules or conventions that they want to see adopted in writing and publishing spaces. This installment comes from Steve Almond, author of the forthcoming Bad Stories: What the Hell Just Happened to Our Country? Steve will be leading two Muse sessions: Dare to Break the Ultimate Writing Rule: Why "Show Don't Tell" Is a Crock, and Rage Is a Red Lesson: How to Turn Anger into Charged Prose.
Here’s the only real rule that obtains with artistic endeavor: it’s a doubt-choked process that provides no guarantee your work will find an audience. All the rest of the “rules” you hear about are intended, deep down, to help artists contend with this inherent doubt, to foster the illusion that—if only you follow the rules—you’ll succeed.
I do believe there are certain “rules” that help writers improve their work, or at least avoid rookie mistakes. For instance, I often tell students that the Hippocratic oath of writing is: Never confuse the reader. I tell them this because I’ve read so many manuscripts over the years in which I couldn’t bond to the characters because I was too busy trying to figure out who everyone was and what was going on and why it should all matter to me.
I stand by this. But it’s not a rule, really. It’s a guideline, or a piece of considered advice.
Most of the rules I hear about proceed from a posture of absurd surety. They have that haughty flavor of dogma. And this applies not just to writing rules, but rules about the life of a writer, or promoting your work.
For instance: You have to have a social media presence. Bullshit. Most aspiring writers have a social media presence. That’s not what gets them a book deal. You need a strong manuscript. In fact, spending time on social media generally distracts you from the arduous (doubt-choked) work of writing that manuscript. It distracts me, anyway.
Of all these rules, the most pervasive and damaging is Show, Don’t Tell. I don’t say this lightly. I have those thousands upon thousands of bewildering student manuscripts to back me up. Nearly all of them were composed by writers under the sway of this ubiquitous bromide.
It’s what caused them to open the story (or novel or essay) in the midst of some dramatic scene, while providing the reader next to no dramatic context by which to make sense of that scene.
It’s what caused them to jettison a strong, independent narrator in favor of a frantic movie camera.
It’s what caused them to slog their poor readers through long scenes that are intended, mostly, to provide background information that a narrator could disburse in a line or two.
Having read so many manuscripts that are marred by these patterns (and written plenty myself), I’ve come up with a maxim that I find much more useful: Tell me just enough that I can feel what I’m being shown.
But even this is really only a guideline, a rule for which there are plenty of exceptions.
I can only think of one writing rule to which there are no exceptions, that I would defend as inviolate.
It’s going to be a bummer, for which I apologize in advance.
Here it is:
Steve Almond’s One and Only Writing Rule:
There are no shortcuts.
Steve Almond is the author of ten books of fiction and non-fiction, including The New York Times Bestsellers Candyfreak and Against Football. His most recent short story collection, God Bless America, won the Paterson Prize and his short stories have been widely anthologized in The Best American Short Stories, the Pushcart Prize, and The Best American Mystery Stories. His non-fiction work has appeared in The New York Times Magazine, The Boston Globe Magazine, The Washington Post and elsewhere. He hosts a weekly podcast, "Dear Sugars," for The New York Times and writes a weekly column. He teaches at Harvard's Nieman Fellowship and at Wesleyan University, and he lives outside Boston with his wife and three children. He is very tired. His latest book -- Bad Stories: What the Hell Just Happened to Our Country? -- is available for pre-order now.
Colwill is the Writer-in-Residence at Wellspring House, Instructor and Consultant at GrubStreet, and Fiction Editor at Pangyrus magazine. After graduating a scholarship awardee of GrubStreet’s Novel Incubator program, Colwill found representation for her first novel, Before We Tear Our Selves Apart, with Robert Guinsler of Sterling Lord Literistic, which is currently on submission to publishing houses. She is a recipient of the Henry Blackwell Essay Prize and a Crawley-Garwood Research Grant, and a finalist for the 2019 Tennessee Williams Fiction Prize, a finalist for the 2019 Reynolds Price Fiction Award, a finalist for the 2019 Lit Fest Emerging Writer Fellowship, a "Notable Entry" in the 2019 Disquiet International Literary Prize, and has received fellowships and support from Bread Loaf Writers’ Conference, The University of Texas at Austin, Boston College, Kansas State University, the Anderson Center, and GrubStreet. Colwill’s work has appeared in Solstice Literary Magazine, The Conium Review, Poetry and Audience, and other places, and her essays have featured on Dead Darlings and GrubWrites. Along with Pangyrus, she has also served on the editorial team for Post Road magazine and The Conium Review. Colwill is especially proud to call herself a founding member of the Back Porch Collective, a Boston-based group of writers. With members connected to Cuba, India, Albania, Atlanta, Bosnia, Miami, Jamaica, and the UK, they bonded over a common passion for global narratives and literature’s potential to create empathy and understanding across all geographical, political, and cultural borders. Hailing from Yorkshire, in the north of England, Colwill is determined to introduce the word “sozzard” to the American vernacular. For a full list of publications, projects, and services, please visit colwillbrown.com.See other articles by Colwill Brown