![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
lydamorehouseEveryone always harps on nascent writers to “show, don’t tell” and there was a time I held this adage close to my heart. I still hold it, but now it’s at a more critical arm’s length distance. Thing is, in science fiction (and in any writing, really,) there are moments when it’s okay to just tell.
Here’s a piece from my own writing (from Twelve Traditions, published in the May 1999 issue of SF AGE): “The woo-woo ladies started their morning ritual on Sasha Danchenko's front lawn. Pouring himself a cup of strong-smelling Columbian coffee, he leaned on the porch rail to watch. Sasha waved, friendly-like, but they ignored him as usual. Fishing expensive Earth crystals from silken pouches, the ladies laid rocks around their feet. Each woman formed a stone circle which met in the middle making a kind of infinity symbol. Like the rocks, Sasha's lawn was a symbol--a symbol of resistance or recovery perhaps."
"He could find out for sure, he supposed, but he never bothered to ask. When they first started the ritual, he'd made the mistake of inviting them inside for a spot of tea or coffee. No caffeine; caffeine, they'd admonished, was a gateway drug. Apparently, a heroin addict could get the jones just from a nice hot sip of espresso. Sasha sniffed, rubbed his palm under his nose, and took a deep swallow of his morning coffee."..."He wondered, as he always did, which one of the ladies used to be into horse. Secretly, he hoped it was Toiya. The tattoos made him figure she liked the needle, but he'd never gotten close enough to look for scars. The other one looked so rosy-cheeked and healthy, maybe even a bit too plump--like she'd traded a desire for junk for a desire for sweets. Of course, Sasha knew this planet wouldn't let you overeat either; they had twelve steps for everything on Alpha Three, or, as it was called out in the system, the "Home of the Friends of Bill W."
There’s very little showing there. In fact, whole thing is telling.
I remember when I wrote this – what would become my first professional sale – feeling very freed from the need to conceptualize everything in terms of some kind of visual catalogue (how I thought “showing” worked at the time,) because Eleanor Arnason, who was in my writing group at the time, told me I didn’t have to. She said that it was okay, even necessary, sometimes to just tell. Especially when you have to convey a lot of science fictional information. Obviously, you don’t want to info dump, but in SF/F information is our lifeblood. You’ve got to get it in there somehow.
What you don’t to do, of course, is do a lot of “telling” when it comes to characters – particularly their emotional states. “He hated women,” for instance would be better conveyed in a scene or two – or, if stylistically you want to just come out and say it, it’s still wise to have things like that backed up with a scene or two. Otherwise the reader only has the authors word on it. That's where stories can fail, IMHO.
Here’s a piece from my own writing (from Twelve Traditions, published in the May 1999 issue of SF AGE): “The woo-woo ladies started their morning ritual on Sasha Danchenko's front lawn. Pouring himself a cup of strong-smelling Columbian coffee, he leaned on the porch rail to watch. Sasha waved, friendly-like, but they ignored him as usual. Fishing expensive Earth crystals from silken pouches, the ladies laid rocks around their feet. Each woman formed a stone circle which met in the middle making a kind of infinity symbol. Like the rocks, Sasha's lawn was a symbol--a symbol of resistance or recovery perhaps."
"He could find out for sure, he supposed, but he never bothered to ask. When they first started the ritual, he'd made the mistake of inviting them inside for a spot of tea or coffee. No caffeine; caffeine, they'd admonished, was a gateway drug. Apparently, a heroin addict could get the jones just from a nice hot sip of espresso. Sasha sniffed, rubbed his palm under his nose, and took a deep swallow of his morning coffee."..."He wondered, as he always did, which one of the ladies used to be into horse. Secretly, he hoped it was Toiya. The tattoos made him figure she liked the needle, but he'd never gotten close enough to look for scars. The other one looked so rosy-cheeked and healthy, maybe even a bit too plump--like she'd traded a desire for junk for a desire for sweets. Of course, Sasha knew this planet wouldn't let you overeat either; they had twelve steps for everything on Alpha Three, or, as it was called out in the system, the "Home of the Friends of Bill W."
There’s very little showing there. In fact, whole thing is telling.
I remember when I wrote this – what would become my first professional sale – feeling very freed from the need to conceptualize everything in terms of some kind of visual catalogue (how I thought “showing” worked at the time,) because Eleanor Arnason, who was in my writing group at the time, told me I didn’t have to. She said that it was okay, even necessary, sometimes to just tell. Especially when you have to convey a lot of science fictional information. Obviously, you don’t want to info dump, but in SF/F information is our lifeblood. You’ve got to get it in there somehow.
What you don’t to do, of course, is do a lot of “telling” when it comes to characters – particularly their emotional states. “He hated women,” for instance would be better conveyed in a scene or two – or, if stylistically you want to just come out and say it, it’s still wise to have things like that backed up with a scene or two. Otherwise the reader only has the authors word on it. That's where stories can fail, IMHO.
no subject
Date: 2006-03-18 07:52 am (UTC)Hope you don't mind if I friend you?