Download
1 / 18
E N D
So What? I remember my father always called me his “little shadow” because I went with him everywhere. I pretended I was embarrassed by that, but secretly I felt a warm glow inside every time he said it. I did go everywhere with my Dad and he always made me feel like his little princess. I went to work with him, he picked me up from school early and took me to Shoney’s restaurant and it was always our little secret, our special time away, just for us. We would often take walks together and he would hold my hand. My little tiny hand was eaten whole by his large rough hands, but he held my hand securely, yet gently. He made me feel safe. He told me that the gentleman should always walk on the outside of the sidewalk and the lady on the inside, so protect her. I always thought this meant if a car suddenly swerved off the road onto the sidewalk that my dad would throw his strong body in front of it and protect me. I never once thought that he would get hurt doing this, however, because my dad was invincible. I think that’s why many years later when he got cancer and I watched him slowly die, I found it so hard to believe that he would ever leave me.
Show Don’t Tell Make the reader see it, hear it, and feel it
This is Telling • I got caught feeding my vegetables to my dog.
Why is Telling Bad? Your writing will be BORINGwith NO DETAILS. Your audience will lose interest quickly!
This is Showing As I sat down at the dining room table and the delicious scent of food wafted through the air, I realized just how hungry I was. My stomach rumbled in response. My mother filled my plate and passed it to me. I immediately noticed the rare, juicy steak, and my mouth began watering. Next to the steak sat homemade mashed potatoes, whipped to perfection. The corners of my mouth were slowly turning up into a smile of anticipation, when I suddenly recoiled in horror. There on my plate sat the most repulsive of sights—asparagus, fresh out of the can. The slimy green heap of spears slid around my plate in a puddle of yellow margarine. My meal was slowly being ruined. I could smell the putrid stench of swamp grass emanating from the mass of vegetables. It took all my strength not to gag.
What was I going to do? I had tried a variety of schemes in the past to avoid eating asparagus. Once I tried hiding them under the mashed potatoes, but Mom saw through that and made me eat them with the potatoes. I did not want to relive that. Another time, I tried slipping them into my pants pocket when no one was looking. This was not a good plan. I ended up having to throw those pants away because I couldn’t get rid of the awful smell or the tiny petrified pieces of green nastiness. As I was thinking this through, I suddenly noticed that the green liquid seeping from the asparagus was slowly creeping toward my heavenly mountain of mashed potato bliss. What to do, what to do? As my heart started to race and I felt my lungs burning, gasping for air as I imagined the horror of the asparagus sullying my delicious mashed potatoes, I felt something soft and furry rub against my leg and I heard a faint whine coming from under my chair. I glanced down to see my pet beagle looking up at me expectantly with her deep, brown eyes. Suddenly, I had my answer. As I looked first at my father and then at my mother and seeing they were in a deep discussion, I slowly slipped the first spear of asparagus from my plate and dipped my hand just beneath my chair to the tail wagging puppy.
Good Writers: • Use their 5 senses to describe each moment carefully • Ex: Lungs burning, stomach rumbled, heard a faint whine • Use strong descriptive words to create a picture in the reader’s mind • Ex: The green liquid seeping from the asparagus was slowly creeping toward my heavenly mountain of mashed potato bliss. • Use action words and adverbs when writing about a what a character does in the story. • I slowly slipped the first spear of asparagus from my plate and dipped my hand just beneath my chair to the tail wagging puppy.
Now Let’s Practice • SHOW, Don’t Tell! • Straight-A Fred failed his Algebra Test.
Now It’s Your Turn • I will give you a partner and an event to write about. • Work together to practice using the SHOW, Don’t Tell! strategy by writing about the event we give you.
Show Don’t Tell Make the reader see it, hear it, and feel it
This is Telling • I had a dog named Molly and she got sick and my parents had to put her down. It made me really sad.
Why is Telling Bad? Your writing will be BORINGwith NO DETAILS. Your audience will lose interest quickly!
This is Showing MOLLY Her feet adjusted their position on the floor of the cage. The paws themselves were hidden; I knew she moved because of the tapping noise her toenails made on the metal, the same sound I had heard so many times on the linoleum of our kitchen. But this wasn’t our kitchen. It was a large metal box, the cage closest to the floor, in a small, clean room that smelled of animals. I was caught off guard by the sight of Molly among these sick and injured animals, and for a second I wondered why she was here. She looked the same. Molly was always beautiful. Her eyes shone, and the white fur ruff at her neck cushioned her narrow head. But today her Sheltie energy wasn’t quite there. Her eyes sparkled when she saw me and my mom, but she did not bark the yappy cry that scared people who walked by our house in the summer. I glanced up and saw the bag of liquid hung on the side of her cage. Through a tube it was flushing out the bacteria in her kidneys. My heart sank. Although she had the same outward appearance, I knew she would never be the same. Now I felt that if I barely touched her, she would crumble. Suddenly I felt afraid.
This is Showing(cont.) My mom spoke in a cheerful voice, the one people use to talk to animals and small children. “Hi, Molly! Have you been a good girl? Yes, you have! Look what Anne and I have for you today—a banana!” That made me smile a little. Bananas had always been Molly’s favorite food. Her unusual love of fruit was one of the things that made her special and funny. She ate a banana every morning for breakfast, and I told myself that if she could still eat one now, she’d be okay. I started to talk to Molly, too. It seemed speaking in such a fake voice made me relax. Mom peeled the banana and gave a piece to Molly. She held it in her mouth for a few seconds, then suddenly remembered she didn’t eat food any more and spit it out. It was then I understood she wasn’t going to get better. The next time I saw Molly was the following afternoon, when the carpool dropped me off at home. She was sitting under our kitchen table, on the linoleum where she lay to keep herself cool. For a moment I forgot that anything was wrong, so when the memory of what had happened over the past few days hit me, I felt overwhelmed. I wished hard that I could go back to the week before, when everything had seemed to be fine.
This is Showing(cont.) I followed the sound of my mom’s voice into the living room and curled up next to her. “Why’s Molly home?” I asked, although in my heart I already knew the answer. “I brought her home because Dad and I talked with the vet, and we think it would be best for Molly to be put to sleep. Her kidneys will never recover, and we don’t want her to be in any more pain than she already is.” Mom went on talking, but I heard nothing after the words “put to sleep.” I buried my head in a couch cushion, not even trying to squeeze back the tears. Although I had known in my heart what would have to happen, it hadn’t sunk in until my mother actually said the words. My shoulders slumped, I went back to the kitchen and crawled on my knees to join Molly under the table. I lay my head carefully against her side, trying not to hurt her. I closed my eyes and talked to Molly in my mind. I told her how much I loved her. That’s how my memory of Molly ends. I know what happened next. I know that my father took her to the vet the next morning and that she never came back. But I’ll always remember lying beside her on the kitchen floor and never wanting to let her go. Sometimes, when I see a banana, I’ll think of that morning at the vet’s office. And every time I think of Molly, I’ll feel the happiness and sadness that come with memories of those we loved dearly.
Now It’s Your Turn • SHOW, Don’t Tell! • Fred failed his Algebra Test.
