The Art of Letting Readers See

Evan Swensen
March 21, 2025

There’s an old saying in writing circles—probably scrawled on a thousand sticky notes across the desks of aspiring authors—that commands, Show, don’t tell. The phrase is gospel in every writing workshop, hammered into the heads of new writers as if it’s the single key to unlocking literary greatness. And yet, like all writing advice, it comes with an unspoken asterisk: Show, don’t tell—except when telling works better.

Nobody ever writes that second part on a sticky note.

The truth is, showing and telling aren’t enemies. They’re dance partners. The trick is knowing when to let one lead.

I learned this the hard way when I started writing. I had devoured enough advice on showing vs. telling to think I had it mastered. Every moment was cinematic—sunlight slashed through windows, hands fluttered mid-gesture, and emotions shimmered in characters’ eyes like reflections on a lake. It was exhausting. And worse, it didn’t always serve the story.

One day, a writer asked me something like, “Do I really need to see the way the steam curls off the coffee cup every time a character takes a sip?”

Good question.

Showing is about immersion. It pulls readers into the scene, making them feel like they’re there. Imagine reading The Grapes of Wrath and not feeling the dust in your throat or the heat bearing down on weary travelers. That novel works because John Steinbeck makes you live in its world.

Showing is essential when:

Emotion needs to be felt, not explained. Instead of saying “he was furious,” write how his fingers dug into the armrest, how his jaw clenched so tightly it could crack a tooth.
The environment contributes to the mood. Think of Wuthering Heights—the moors aren’t just scenery but as tempestuous as the characters.
You want the reader to interpret a character’s personality. How someone reacts—laughing too hard, hesitating before answering—reveals more than any narration.

A masterclass in showing comes from To Kill a Mockingbird, when Harper Lee describes Atticus Finch leaving the courtroom. The moment isn’t announced with fanfare—no one tells us the weight of what’s happened. Instead, the Black spectators rise as he passes, silently showing their respect. That silence speaks volumes.

Sometimes, showing is like taking the scenic route when a direct road is better.

Telling is useful when:

The information isn’t worth dramatizing. If a character had an uneventful trip, don’t show every mile of the drive—say, “He arrived without incident.”
You need to summarize. Moby-Dick has whole chapters on whale anatomy. If Herman Melville had shown every detail, we’d still be reading.
The reader needs to know something quickly. Sometimes, “She was the youngest in the family” is fine. You don’t need to craft a scene with her standing on tiptoe to prove it.

Even Hemingway, the king of economy, understood this. He could spend pages showing the weight of grief in A Farewell to Arms, but when it came to moving the story along, he told what needed telling.

So, how do you know whether to show or tell? It comes down to pace, impact, and significance.

If a moment is pivotal—show it. Let the reader experience it. But if it’s background noise, telling is often the best route. The key is to be intentional.

Think of it like seasoning. Showing is the rich, complex flavor, and telling is the salt keeping the dish balanced. Use too much of one, and the story suffers.

One of the best pieces of advice I ever received was this: Every story needs both poetry and clarity. If you lean too much into showing, you risk losing clarity. If you rely too heavily on telling, the poetry disappears. The best writers learn when to step back and let the story breathe.

So yes, show. But don’t be afraid to tell when it serves the reader best. And, for heaven’s sake, not every coffee cup needs a paragraph.

Want to Grow as a Writer? Join Author Masterminds

If you’re looking for a community of dedicated writers who understand the challenges of the craft, consider joining Author Masterminds. Here, authors support each other, share marketing strategies, and gain insights beyond just writing—helping you build a career, not just a book. You don’t have to navigate criticism alone. Author Masterminds is a group of like-minded writers who will challenge, encourage, and help you grow. Learn more about how to become a part of it here: https://bit.ly/4k6lvg1.