Narrative Should Not Announce Action
April 11, 2011 6 Comments
Deciding he had to act or be victimized, John steeled himself, throwing both elbows into the ghoul’s chest and shouting, “Nooooooo!” The monster lost all balance, stumbled across a limb and pitched off the mountain cliff.
I like to look at all my inactive storytelling with the hope of omitting. SHOW, don’t TELL is foremost in a writer’s head. While we need the internal narrative in order to get a feeling for the character, I’ve found it easier to put narrative in than it is to “kill your rambling babies” later. Be particularly wary of broad-brush explanations of action, half-page descriptions, long internal reflection and the dastardly back story. In particular, if the content of the TELL is about to be shown, omit the tell; that’s an easy call.
I am choosing to define narrative here as that portion of the prose that directly communicate story to the reader either through the author’s (nasty) or character’s (better) point of view’s (POV). Some suggest a formula of one third narrative to two thirds DIALOGUE and ACTION. Rules tend to be too rigid, but most new writers are heavy-handed when it comes to tell versus action and dialogue, and thus the emphasis upon cutting narrative that adds little to the show. (Adhering to this is particularly difficult if you have a lonely character or write first person, but still worth the effort).
In the above example, the narrative is giving us a peek into the mind of John. He’s afraid of being victimized and he is steeling himself. One of John’s problems might be his cowardice. Building character is often a story-wide concern though–not a momentary issue. I’m betting there are a number of scenes wherein John’s fear can be shown as opposed to told here.
Let’s face it, every author tells a bit of what is going on inside their POV character and the prose here is not bad. In fact, a little telling might be necessary in certain passages. My instincts tell me that getting rid of this paragraph’s opening won’t feel easy to the author. On the other hand, thinking about ways to reduce narrative story-wide is always a productive exercise, even if you choose to keep a few, which I’m sure you will.
“Nooooooo!” John threw both elbows into the ghoul’s chest.
The monster stumbled across a limb, lost balance and pitched off the mountain cliff.
Reading the above, do we doubt that John steeled himself? If we have done a good job and allowed our readers to see John’s cowardice throughout the story, we see this as an act of courage. And, of course, we don’t need to be told he shouted. Everything left is active plot, a seriously good thing in writing.
I have a personal goal: Carving away narrative should make me feel guilty about not showing enough of the internal character. Once I feel that way, I add narrative that is meaningful in strategic spots. After all, John did push a ghoul off a cliff. Here, his actions tell us everything we need to know. Here, we are compelled to strip out the fat and let the action and dialogue sing.
About Gary Wedlund
I pretty much agree with everything you’ve written.
I sometimes like to use physical “tells” to indicate a character’s internal thoughts. I feel they blend better with action sequences. Little physical actions can often reveal a great deal about what’s going on in someone’s head. There is a classic book I own from my poker days, Mike Caro’s Book of Tells. Not all of the “tells” apply to action sequences, but I’m amazed at how many of them do.
One caveat: These tells do have to be obvious enough so that the reader isn’t left scratching his/her head, wondering what the hell your character is doing, flapping his arms about like a chicken, while not looking that zombie directly in the eye.
Nice post, Gary. And right on the money.
Writing internal thoughts is always just plain messy, both in terms of how and why. For the how part, some people use italics others use semi-quotes, and others just write it down with no indication of how it ties to the rest of the writing, hoping that placement and phrasing alone will explain what it should convey (I think I fall into this last camp). However included into a text the real question becomes why?
Telling internal thoughts are a quick-and-dirty way to get at what drives a character. It’s a shortcut and readers notice. There are times where a scene has minimal importance and you have no choice other than tell, or dip into the character talking to one’s self. But like Robert above indicated, even then showing a physical reaction can show us what thoughts might lurk beneath. Imaging that first sentence as: His shaking stopped, and a low growl rumbled past his clinched teeth.
The one third rule sounds like a fine place to start but really, internal narrative should be it’s own category and should have an allotment of closer to 2% at most.
When I reflect on what is good writing I discover that for me it is taking the time to show a story and not just dumping ideas on the page before moving onto the next page.
I agree with what you say, but the trick is to be very clear in the sequence of actions. A character can react in such a way out of anger, fear, or impulse. Which is it? Since I was a playwright first, I tend to be allergic to too much narrative. I’m very big on dialogue, but in a play it’s the actor’s job to interpret the playwright’s intention and bring the action to life with voice and body. Since we don’t have actors bringing the character to life in a novel or short story, the writer does have to conjvey a sense of where the character is emotionally. This can be done by showing the physical reactions to fear, anger, lust, etc. This is how actors are taught to build a character. It’s not about what the character is feeling; it’s how the feeling makes the character behave. The way a character grapples for a sword or snatches up a knife can say volumes. Sexy verbs say more than a string of adjectives or adverbs. Great post.
While I like your take on carving away narrative until you feel guilty about it, “Show, don’t tell,” is too dogmatic for my taste. I prefer a more pragmatic mindset – who is the reader and what am I trying to communicate? The more specific my answers to those questions, the easier the “cut it or leave it” decision becomes. To illustrate using your example: in an adult novel – particularly one with mainstream aspirations – I would certainly take the narrative out and let the action stand on its own. But in a young adult novel where I want to emphasize John’s growth, I’d leave it in. (It’s a trifle “on the nose” but it explicitly makes the point.) This way, I can read Dickens (“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….”) and not feel like I’m slumming because I’m enjoying w writer who clearly didn’t follow “the rules.”
Ah, the feedback is way better than the post. Thanks so much for the excellent, high-level comments from everyone. I find myself in complete agreement with all the various shades on this, all of them quite legitimate. Clearly this craft is art, not science. Makes for all the fun.
Oh, and Jerry, also good stuff. My point, I think, is expanded by Dickens when he sat at his candle, dipped his pen into the ink and crossed out some bogus narrative in order to make space for the gem, “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times.”
You make good points, as always. Though I personally prefer a little more description in order to paint a clearer and deeper picture of the action and how it sits in the world being presented, it is more a matter of style and voice as to where one draws the line.