It is one of the best articles I've seen on the rule all writers know--show, don't tell--because it doesn't just tell us how not to tell, it shows us some of LeCarre's very own examples.
" . . . descriptions can set the scene, convey the inexpressible, and turn the reader into a witness, instead of remaining a mere bystander." -- Mary Jaksch, author of the article
Each week, I'll give a "telling" prompt, and invite you to show us, to make us a witness, not a mere bystander.
THIS WEEK'S "TELLING" PROMPT:
The dark road was scary.
This week's prompt was inspired by my drive home from Tulsa last night. There's something about driving along on a dark and windy road. Here's my "showing:"
How dark the night had become since turning onto County Road 256, as if all color had been sucked from the world. The blackness surrounding her was like a monster, devouring all but the small patch of gray left by her headlights.
Nothing felt lonelier than being on that road. Seemed like hours since she'd seen another car. Maybe the blackness had swallowed them all.
Then, headlights in the distance. Thank goodness. She wasn't alone after all. She smiled. Funny how two lights in the distance--stranger's lights--could bring a little comfort.
But even welcome light can become too bright. She flashed her high beams, but the stranger didn't heed her request.
Closer. Brighter. Closer.
She turned away from the blinding beam as the stranger passed.
Then again, at least for a moment, she'd had a little company. And the return of a void felt even emptier.
Returning to darkness left spots in front of her eyes. She watched them dance on the center line that zipped past her car as she tried to focus on the road ahead of her. Anything for a little entertainment.
But one spot quit dancing. It grew larger and larger as she approached.
It wasn't a spot. A deer?
His eyes widened.
She slammed on the brakes.
I know you have some dark road stories to tell. Show me?
As always, feel free to leave a link to your blog with your comments.