Authors sometimes want to get on with the story and the action. So it's easier to tell the reader what we know the character feels. We do a disservice to the reader by doing this -- not to mention the insult to their intelligence. Every time I catch myself telling a reader how my character feels or his emotional state, I try to go back over it and feel what he might feel and describe it. If I can tell how I feel when terrorized, I should be able to show the reader by describing the physical manifestations of that terror.
Telling: 'He felt sick'
Showing: 'The contents of his stomach roiled like a breaking wave over a coral bed. He fought the purge as bile rose in his throat.'
Telling: 'I knew the mugger was about to shoot.'
Showing: 'I saw the pupils of the mugger's eyes dilate and a muscle twitching just below his jaw. My eyes shifted to the hand holding the gun. It quivered when the finger tensed against the trigger.'
Telling: 'The suspect lied.'
Showing: The suspect paused. His eyes shifted ever so slightly to the right for a brief second before his face relaxed with new-found confidence. He was about to lie.'
Telling: 'He was going to run.'
Showing: He shifted his weight to his right foot. the muscles in his forearm tightened. 'Run or punch? I didn't know. I didn't wait to find out. I lurched a shoulder into his chest, wrapping my arms around both of his. We tumbled to the ground'
These examples may not be the best, and in rewrite, I might do them differently but the attempt is to show the reader how characters act, react, and display their emotions rather than simply tell how they feel or think. Below I have included an excerpt of my new novel OUTLAWS. Please read it and tell me how I did.
The village—what little there was of it—sat quietly with its usual deserted appearance. Only a few scattered homes dotted the isolated road angling off of the main highway. The road paralleled the highway for about a mile before curving back into it. The general store occupied the land opposite the homes with nothing but fenced pasture down to Route 35. Josh turned the team from the highway onto the road running through the settlement. He looked up. The sun, higher now, promised a warm day.
He pulled the Belgians to a stop in the empty parking area of Ross’s store, hopped down from the seat, stretched his lanky frame, and adjusted his hat further back on his head. Beau woofed at no one in particular.
“Hush, Beau. You’re disturbing the peace. You’ll get us arrested.” He grinned at the dog.
Beau stopped barking, but continued a muted growl of protest.
“Don’t argue with me. And stay here…” Josh smiled. “And don’t you go chasing any cats.”
Beau looked at him, but continued a low throaty snarl. Josh shook his head.
Josh entered the store and looked for Ross behind the counter. He wasn’t there.
Odd.
“Hey, Ross, you got paying customers on the premises. Get your lazy butt out here and pop me a cold one before I take my business to the next town.”
No reply.
“Ross…?”
Josh stopped and listened. Something didn’t feel right. He looked around the store. Darker than usual. No lights on. Only ambient light from the windows. He heard muted music from the back of the store where Ross lived, but it wasn’t country, and Ross always listened to country music. He turned toward Ross’s quarters.
Josh’s sphincter muscles tightened as icicles crept up his spinal cord.
Something's definitely wrong.
Ex-cop Josh Grant chooses to live as a recluse in the
mountains of Idaho as penance for failing to protect his murdered wife and
child in Detroit. His new serenity is shattered when he stumbles onto the
murder of his only friend and an assault of his friend’s daughter, Jolene. By
saving Jolene, Josh angers the Outlaws, a gang of vicious bikers. When they
seek revenge, Josh must draw on old skills to keep himself and Jolene alive.
Available at Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Outlaws-ebook/dp/B0084FANZ0/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1338207121&sr=1-1
Available at Musa Publishing: www.musapublishing.com/
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