Showing vs Telling; why many Indy writers don’t make

The biggest critique I have for Indy authors is that they tell the story instead of showingyou what’s going on. What does this mean?
Telling: It was a dark and stormy night.
Showing: Outside the wind howled. Rain slapped the windows in angry whips. Janice looked up from her desk with wide eyes, clutching her blanket tightly. Lightning cracked, momentarily illuminating wildly swaying trees punching at the cloud covered sky. A peal of thunder rumbled through the rafters, drowning out the surge and crash of the waves far below. (I just added the ocean element on a whim)  
As a writer, writing “it was a dark and stormy night” is insanely easy. A short sentence requiring no visualization equals a quick write.
A great many (great, great many) Indy writers tell you what’s happening. They tell you about that dark and stormy night. Whole books are told. The character goes from one place to another. Does one thing. And then another. Meets a guy. Kills a dragon. Kisses the girl. The end.
The writer tells you all of this. Sometimes there is a conflict, sometimes not.
It is insanely boring.
My first drafts always have a lot of telling. Since it is a faster way to get a story down, and I often have no idea what will happen next when I’m writing, I put words to paper as fast as possible. I think of it as a quick and dirty place marker.
On my first read-through, I am generally irritated because I have to re-write half the thing. I have to expand, add sensory input, and get more involved. Showing is way harder than telling. It takes more time, focus, and feeling. As a writer, you have to get involved. You “see” what’s going on. You feel it unfold. And that takes its toll, especially if there is a lot of emotional depth. Just look at the difference in length of the examples above—showing takes more words. It took me focusing, picturing, creating a mood, and then writing it down. Seven words versus sixty.
The thing is, though, showing is not only great for the reader, it can act as a diving board for the author. The waves far below place Janice on a cliff. So now there’s a rolling, surging ocean, a house possibly precariously balanced on a cliff, and Janice, freaked out about the intensity of the storm. This is an interesting setting. What will happen?
Cue writer’s imagination.
That’s a different post, though. Back to the reader—showing lets the reader fall in. The reader goes on a discovery. She visualizes right along with the writer. She is sitting there, in that house, as rain batters the window in angry sheets. It’s interesting. It keeps the reader involved, and an involved reader wants to turn the page.
In order to figure out when I’m doing more telling than showing, or when things aren’t working, I let my focus be the guide. On a revision, if my eyes glaze over, or I want to skim, there’s a problem. I stop, go back, and re-write. Often times I have no idea what the cause is, but I know something is making me lose interest. Re-write. I need to add more feeling, or reaction, or setting.
There is a flip side to this, of course. And that is too much detail. It isn’t a fine line, but it takes practice to get the balance right.
I’ve cut out almost entire chapters because the side story was taking too long. I just wanted the characters to have a little nooky. Or wanted some action. It’s like swiping a table out of the way to kiss the hero. That cut chapter was the proverbial table. I’ve lost humorous situations I absolutely loved, and worked hard on, because they took too long. At the end of the day, if you’re going to publish, you need to keep the reader in mind. The first draft is for you, the other drafts are for your readers.
All this is why many revisions are key. Either you already know this stuff and can do it in your sleep, or (if you’re an accountant moonlighting as a writer, like me) you need to do multiple revisions to figure out what doesn’t work, and fix it. Usually, for Indy writers, it’ll be that telling versus showing situation that sinks them. Not enough detail, and not enough sensory input. Put yourself in the character’s shoes, have a look around, and describe what you see and feel. This way, your reader will see and feel it, too. And that will keep them reading.