Polish Your Prose: Show Without Saying

Think of a sad sentence, or scene, or song in something you might have read or heard. Think of the most heartbreaking thing your character (or even you yourself) has experienced. How might you write it?

Now consider the following paragraph (if it isn't too spoiler-ific for you. I've tried cutting names if you haven't read the book or seen the movie).

“He tasted dusty and sweet. He tasted like regret in the shadows of trees and in the glow of the anarchist's suit collection. She kissed him long and soft, and when she pulled herself away, she touched his mouth with her fingers...She did not say goodbye. She was incapable, and after a few more minutes at his side, she was able to tear herself from the ground.” 

― Markus Zusak, The Book Thief

Notice how this moment is described without mentioning death, tears, or sadness by name. As such, this gets a reaction from me because it relies entirely on sensory details like touch and taste. The character's action in the last two sentences is visceral, is extremely realistic and provokes memories I have of being incapable, of helplessness, of mute grief I experienced during a tragedy a few years ago. It doesn't bring up crying, or the character realizing she's crying; it's implicit, buried past the more interesting and deeper feelings. 

This moment, with these details and using such vivid imagery, invites the reader in deeper to the action. It's like the music in the background of those lyrics that always make your eyes sting a little. It is an excellent example of "showing" without "telling." 

When you write a sad scene or about a tragedy, try this as an experiment to encourage sensory details and showing without using minimal, common abstracts like "sad": write about the tragedy, especially through one character's eyes, without mentioning what it was. 

A similar exercise is Richard Price's advice to "write small": 

"You don't write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid's burnt socks lying on the road. You pick the smallest manageable part of the big thing, and you work off the resonance." Try writing about your tragedy with these tiny, more painful details. 

You can even practice this with dialogue. I've found I can get more zinging, emotional conversation out of my characters if I let them dance around the elephant in the room, or cover it up though it's trying to come out. Compare this to when you walk in on a friend or family member, and they're crying. Are they likely to say simply "I'm sad" in response to a concerned query? Chances are, they'll either be honest or try to deflect until they're comfortable expression the reason for their tears. 

While the examples here are about writing sad scenes, happiness and joy can be shown in the same ways. Just remember to avoid over-expressing large, important emotions and scenes with abstracts. Abstract ideas like "I was sad" only elicit sympathy, or pity, when you want to make the audience react.