The Battle Of Show Me, Don’t Tell Me: Verbs vs. Adverbs
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I known more than a few authors who tell me that the notion of Show, Don’t Tell is somewhat confusing. I have found that the best explanation comes down to the use of verbs over adverbs. If you learn this secret, then the eternal struggle between showing and telling resolves itself much easier. Don’t misunderstand me, I’m not saying it become easy, just more readily understandable.
Strong Verbs
A writer best shows his work by great verbs. By verbs, I mean specifically verbs and not all that fall into the family of predicates. That would broaden the scope to include participles, infinities, and yes, even adverbs. Verbs are great showers because they contain action. It is the action in your story, the things your characters do in your narrative, that people can actually see. If the can see it, you can bet it’s good action.
Please note that I mentioned strong verbs. People might think weak verbs would be various being verbs, forms of “I am.” That is true, but here I mean that plus more. A car can drive and a person can walk, but is that the best we can do? Drive and walk are so broad. The best showing involves the most specific action. Have your car speed, skid, linger, bounce down the road. I’ll bet you can come up with better ones on your own. A man can walk, or he can march, stomp, amble, skip, or stride. Specifically, how your car drives and your people walk says something very particular about that action of driving and walking, and thus, something about the people doing the action.
Weak Modifiers
In strong contrast to the action of great verbs, adverbs are notorious tellers. An adverb merely modifies the verb. This means it describes the action. If something is described, it is told, which means it is not seen. Some have told me that they can see adverbs. I disagree. They see the action of the verb. Maybe a good way to clarify this is to say the action of a verb is like seeing a movie. The action is continuous. Anything that modifies the action at best can be seen merely as a still photo. Adverbs never show, they only tell.
I am not saying a one should never use adverbs, but use them sparingly and with great wisdom. Sometimes adverbs add to the music of the narrative voice. My favorite example is Fitzgerald and his use of a car that drives triumphantly with packages in the back. That adverb really tells you nothing at all about the car or the drive. But you get a picture in your mind, that’s for sure. Also, it sounds tremendous. This is one he got away with. If you can do a well as this, then you can use your adverbs.
What Does This Mean?
One rule I learned in my Creative Writing classes is one I still use. If we workshopped a story in class, and we came across an adverb, the professor would ask, “What does this mean?” Sometimes he would ask, “What does this look like?” Let’s say I wrote that a man entered the room happily. The professor would make me describe how a man can enter a room happily. After I have given my description, always with action, he would say, “Write that.”
A cat slowly approaches his bowl of milk, or a cat sets down one paw with great stealth and waits. Only when he is sure no one has noticed does he proceed with another paw. I could go on, but you see where I’m going. Approaching slowly shows me nothing. Describing how he approaches slowly is always better writing. Great verbs are the core of superior Creative Writing. It separates the professionals and the artists from the hacks and the wannabes. You decide for yourself how you want to be viewed, and truth, how you want to be. The great struggle between verbs and adverbs is decided by you, the Creative Writer.
