Show Not Tell Writing Examples Novels & Stories

At the mill, the guest rhythm held, and the messenger said it had run three nights straight without falter. In the market, they talked about cabbage prices and a missing cat a child finally found behind the mill. Good stories— they hold attention better than tales about the “bridge child.” On the inner stairs—where yesterday there had been a “V” scratch— the ash remained untouched. Same place, same amount. No one added, no one erased. On the wall, my own handwriting: “Nothing happens. Move on.” The sentence didn’t threaten or demand— it stood like a shrug that soothes.

"Hmm, so you're antisocial?" Vanessa thought about it for a moment, as though she did not know what she was. She shrugged. "I wouldn't say antisocial though. I just find fictional characters more tolerable. Relatable. So, I spend a lot of time reading novels. What about you? Tell me something about you and then we call it even." "Nope. Not telling. I'll rather show you." Vanessa squeezed her face. "What?" "Well," Jake started and cleared his throat. "I do a lot of reading myself and I'm something of a writer. Show, don't tell, my critics always warned. Well, I'm following their warning this time. So, yeah, I'll rather show you."

Her perfect bleached-blonde hair was completely dry. They weren’t trying to hide it. They were right out in the open, whispering to each other like I didn’t even exist. The anonymous text hadn’t been a total lie—it just had the wrong location. Leon noticed me first. His eyes widened, his face going completely pale as he looked at my furious expression down to the empty bucket in my hands. “Wait, babe, it’s not what it looks like—“ Chloe jumped back, her fake eyelashes blinking rapidly as she tried to look innocent, but the guilt was written all over her face. “We were just talking, I swear…..”

Everything outside looks peaceful. Inside my room, nothing feels peaceful anymore. For weeks, I keep asking people to tell me the truth, but every answer only creates another question. I finally understand why. It’s simply because everyone is telling me their version and not the whole story. I return to my desk and open my notebook to a clean page. At the top, I write one sentence. Find facts. Not stories. I stare at those words for a long time. Then I speak the words aloud to myself. I am no longer going to keep asking people what happened.

I just had to answer Edward's question as quick as possible. "Ma'am. Is there a difference between showing and telling?" He asked without standing up. I understood it was because of the fear of being mocked or called names because of his height. He was as short as a midget. "Yes, hmm.. Showing allows the readers to follow the writer into the moment to see and feel, using the appropriate balance of showing and telling will make the writing more interesting. Telling is straight forward, you just say it directly and then pen it down that way. But showing uses more descriptive words.