One Thing That Will Make or Break Your Book (Show vs. Tell)
I’ve read a lot of books in my life. But especially this past year (for me, at least).
This year I rediscovered my love for fiction, specifically. I read books that topped the list of people’s favorites, along with some of the most anticipated releases.
In 2020 I read 70 books, and recently, while reading a very popular book, I had a revelation.
This particular book was not doing it for me. It bothered me, and I couldn’t figure out why.
Of course, this just won’t do. I’m a writer! And I love breaking down stories. So I had to know why.
I especially love breaking down great stories, but I also love to figure out why a story does not work for me.
I thought about it and journaled about it, and then had a discussion with Keith (my husband), and that’s when it hit me. The one thing that will kill a story in no time flat:
Never convince your reader.
Let me explain. Because at first glance, this may seem like nonsense. But here’s what I mean.
Never have to convince your reader.
Your story should be so airtight, the characters and world should be so well developed, and the conflict and stakes should be so impermeable that all that’s left to do is tell the story.
I cannot stand it when I’m reading a story and thinking to myself, “Wait, what? I don’t buy it. So you’re saying that she is acting that way because of this? No way.”
It takes me right out of the story!
Here’s the thing. A story can be entertaining and enjoyable and still have this problem. Think of movies you enjoy that you know in your gut aren’t great. But you still pull them out with a bag of popcorn every once in a while. They’re fun! And that’s okay.
But we’re going for enjoyable built on a rock-solid foundation.
Let me show you what I mean:
In the book I read, the main character had to cross paths with the love interest.
This means that the author had to get Character A and Character B into the same place. Multiple times—otherwise we’re looking at insta-love (which we don’t want).
So to do that, the author placed the protagonist into a scenario I just did not buy. I didn’t buy it! I have a lot of sympathy for the logistics of writing a novel. Sometimes you have to stretch reality a bit in order to make things line up. But this was just too far.
I couldn’t get past the fact that everything I knew about this character clashed with him ending up in the setting that would allow him to encounter his love interest. It felt contrived.
The result of both of these is that I felt like I was trying to be convinced of one thing, when the story itself was showing something else: The author was trying to convince me that the protagonist would be in this setting day after day even though everything they had set up about the character was at odds with it.
I believe that it’s okay to stretch reality in your writing.
I encourage it in the books I pick up. But everything needs to make sense within the world that’s being created.
Within the characters and setting that have been developed. Within the conflict and stakes that have been set up. You can’t just tell me the villain is bad. You have to show me.
Take these (completely made-up and definitely not based on real stories) scenarios:
Scenario #1
The villain of this story is bad. Because the protagonist says so.
She has heard that the villain is mean. Or she should be, because the villain is a troll, and legend has it that all trolls are bad. So everything the protagonist thinks and the actions she takes, despite the fact that the troll hasn’t necessarily done anything to prove she is bad, center around the villain being terrible and ugly and violent.
Scenario #2
The villain of this story is bad. Because the protagonist has experienced it.
She heard that the villain is mean. She was told to be afraid. And then she encountered the villain and was instantly (and violently) flogged and warned by the villain herself that if the protagonist ever came across the villain again, she would cut out her eye. Yikes. That’s a mean villain.
Scenario #3
The villain of this story is bad. Many people that the protagonist personally knows have experienced his evil.
But he was killed! In the last book, eyewitnesses (including the protagonist) saw this villain die. But the author needed a villain for her next installment, so she brought him back and explained that he actually had never-before-seen magic that made him bounce when he fell 1,000 feet off the cliff.
Scenario #1 is showing me one thing, and telling me another through the protagonist’s thoughts and actions.
So I feel like I am trying to be convinced that the villain is evil, even though nothing in the story has proved it.
Scenario #2 shows me that the villain is bad. I don’t need to be convinced. I’ve seen it in the story.
Scenario #3 shows me that the villain is bad, but I still feel like I’m trying to be convinced because logic (and the words themselves) told me in the last story that the villain was dead!
Now, these might seem silly, but hopefully, they illustrate the point I’m trying to make.
The truth is, this point could probably be illustrated with two words: plot holes.
But sometimes plot holes summon ideas about purely logistical things. Character A was in Europe in the first half of the story, and now you’re telling me he’s in America.
But they also include ideas that don’t align within the world, characters, conflict and stakes, and backstory you’ve set up.
Things can line up logistically and still not make sense. They can line up logistically and your reader still feels like they’re trying to be convinced.
If you ever feel like you’re having to convince your reader of something, it might be time to take a step back and reevaluate.
Does everything line up? Logically?
Does it make sense within the world you’ve created?
Is it how your character (assuming they are a real person with even the slightest bit of rationality) would act in that situation?
Or are you trying to fit two pieces together that probably, if you’re completely honest with yourself, just don’t go? Because it’s easier or the way you had it playing out in your head?
These are hard questions, but they might just be the difference between an enjoyable story that will fade quickly from reader’s minds (or even a story that will bother a reader because they just don’t buy it) and a great story that readers will want to return to again and again and—and here’s the key—always find that everything lines up and make sense no matter how many times they read it.
The fastest way to write a strong story is with an effective outline that plots your novel’s beating heart.
In Outline Your Novel, you’ll learn exactly what these beats are, why they matter, and how to outline them effectively to make your story sing.
