Verbs of Inaction: How to Show, Not Tell
Photo by elizabeth lies on Unsplash
Recently I’ve been editing a manuscript that’s just about ready to go to the publisher. One of the final things I do is go through and search for all the "boring" verbs, which are mainly the ones that describe the five senses or existence directly:
Looked/saw
Heard
Smelled
Felt
Was/were
You get the idea. Now these aren’t always bad, but if you do a search and find more than a few instances of them, it’s time to get creative. (There are times when trying to get too creative will result in a convoluted mess that draws more attention to itself than is needed. So don’t aim for 100% here, but most of them.)
The trick is to turn classic instances of “telling” into “showing” with rich detail.This allows us direct experience, as if we’re the character.
Examples:
Emily heard the birds twittering and the insects buzzing outside her window.
Outside, the birds twittered and insects hummed.
Franklin looked around the room. What a mess. Couldn’t Jamie clean up, just once?
Clothes covered the chair and spilled out of the laundry hamper. Books teetered on every flat surface. Cups, plates, and silverware holding unidentifiable sludge perched dangerously close to the open laptop. The funk of old socks and rotting food permeated the air. Franklin shook his head. Couldn’t Jamie clean up, just once?
It was a classic winter scene. It was snowing, and the wind was blowing. A bonfire was popping and crackling, throwing sparks into the night air. Children were skating on the frozen pond. Mel could hear their laughter and shouts as they spun and fell. Mel felt cold even in her warmest jacket, and wished she had some hot chocolate.
A bonfire popped and crackled, throwing sparks into the night air, competing with the whirling snow. Children skated on the frozen pond, laughing and shouting as they spun and fell. The bitter breeze penetrated even Mel’s warmest jacket. Time for some hot chocolate, before her toes fell off.
As you can tell, the second version of each is much more vivid and captivating. We’re having a direct experience, instead of seeing it through a secondary frame.
In the last example, the first sentence shows another classic problem: summarizing the scene. “It was a classic winter scene.” Well, first of all, the reader might picture their own “classic winter scene,” and maybe it has nothing to do with a bonfire and a skating pond. Worse, it’s just filler, telling us nothing useful, getting in the way of our actually experiencing the scene. Some writers feel the need to “set the scene” in this way, but the writing itself should take care of that for you.
The word seemed, too, is one to beware of.
“It seemed like it might rain again.” What makes it seem that way? The dark, overhanging clouds, the scent of petrichor in the air?
“She seemed like she might burst with excitement.” What shows us how she’s feeling? Her bright eyes, nervous energy, waving hands? Sharp, high tone of voice?
Another fun one is “looking,” as in wise-looking, funny-looking, etc. Simplify it, or expand it to show what you really mean.
“Tired-looking” = tired.
“Funny-looking” = The cat peered at them from its one good eye, the other sewn shut. One ear perked up at an angle, the other lay flat. It walked with a twitchy gait, swishing its stub of a tail.
Believe me, I know - it’s tedious to go through a manuscript and look for these instances of telling. But they weaken your story and sap the life out of it. Even if you have vivid verbs following “looked, heard, felt” etc., the overall effect is dull. Simply going through and rewriting those scenes is excellent writing practice.
And best of all, it will bring your story to new life.
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