Talkwards

I just read the following sentence:

“He heard her own gasp of astonishment”

Some words just don’t work well with things no one else can do for you, I mean…

I entered the room and guess if I was surprised. My neighbor gasped with my astonishment, and as he had one of my thoughts, he came over to my own apartment to have a talk with me. He told me, with his wife’s voice, he disliked all but his own ideas. I had one of his ideas and in a contrary to his position, decided I liked it, so I made it my own idea.

It could get pretty interesting after a while of that. Perhaps the next pop-style of writing…?

I am sure you have come across this advice if you have read about creative writing:

“Show, don’t tell.”

It has been repeated in several discussions I’ve had and books I’ve read. Being from Northern Europe (Sweden to be precise) some of the literature I’ve grown up with does the opposite. It tells a story. Very little details, broad strokes, brushed by in high speed.

The good thing with showing, instead of telling, is that the story reveals lots of details that can easily capture the audience. You get to feel, hear, see, smell, taste what the characters experience. You get to “be there.”

However, there are other concerns than revealing detail. The downside to showing instead of telling is that everything takes forever. You can hardly have a character sneeze without writing half a page about it.

Stories that show too much lose tempo, and become dreadfully long. I’ve seen amateur authors write a normal sized story (say about 3-400 pages soft cover) in twice, three even five times the number of pages, and when you analyze the story for this specific aspect you find everything is shown in painstaking detail.

I’m willing to bet, if you take your favorite book or author and analyze their texts you will find both showing and telling. This is done because showing gives detail, whereas telling gives speed, and higher tempo.

With telling you can manage the weekend trip to aunt Ruthie’s in a page, even half a page, with showing you could spend the whole book writing about it (I’m sure several authors have).

I can think of one reason this rather strange advice has been introduced in books on creative writing; it may have been borrowed from books on screen writing. When writing a manuscript (for the movies or the stage) being visual and showing details becomes important, unless the characters will start blathering the piece to shreds, or the crew filming the whole thing will have to improvise details. However, recent developments in movies have introduced a narrator as a story telling tool, and the theater has had story telling in it from the beginning (story telling may even have been the beginning of theater).

Telling or showing can both be as capturing for the reader if done right. When to use which becomes a question of what story you are telling, the rhythm versus details, and the ultimate measure is more about feeling than anything else. You have to read and write until you gain an ear for when to show and when to tell, in order to write the story you want with the rhythm that will capture audience the most…

Everything is a circle,
the beginning is the end
and the end is the beginning

The path to righteousness goes through righteous action
The path to happiness goes through laughter
The path to richness goes through giving
The path to love goes through loving

But some things are not as easy to find

The path to strength goes through weakness,
Because the first time you are really weak and vulnerable,
is the first time you can truly see your own strength

To begin the journey you have to take the first step
but to continue it you will have to keep walking

A cruel sign of sadness,
Carved has been,
With steal, stone and blood filled ink,
Into defenseless skin.

A light in the shadows,
The sign is my call,
You who search for the weak pray,
Vulture, push me to the wall

A liar full of sin,
Asking for my blood,
With reasons too thin,
The nation and the god,

Can’t you see what’s right,
Once you’ve been there?
Can’t you understand,
What your lie feels like here?

I am just a fool,
So easy to fool,
And you abuse this fool,
I am your willing tool

I should have known it all,
I should have seen the night,
Will come after sun set,
Even if it doesn’t seem right

Parunulu Laku sings another song,
Inhabitant of my ever-flowing dreams,
Parunulu Laku knows my every wish,
Even though she does not fill them with substance.

Parunulu Laku likes to play her game,
She is a very cruel one, even if she likes to kiss my name,
Parunulu Laku flower in the garden of my fantasies,
She grows, she bloom,
Parunulu Laku, beauty never seen.

Deep down below,
The devil dwells
He howl and laughs
in pleasure and deceit

We need to fill,
The seven hells
Whee ho, where are you?
Mortal slaves of passion

Cowards and braves,
Enlist,
Enlist
Plenty of space,
Lodging is free,
Breakfast included

I leave behind,
What I don’t want to leave behind,
My will,
My lust,
My very wish to survive life.

Until I realize they push me forward,
Pull to make me come,
The devils of my future,
The demons of my past,
Those who have chained me,
Those who want to drag me closer to the end.

Trust is the fuel of love,
Fear is the fuel of hate,
If you cannot reach beyond yourself,
Loneliness will be your fate

The struggle to go on,
Go on and on,
I try to understand,
What I do when I win,
So I can do it again,
What I do when I lose,
So finally I might choose.

The urge to learn success,
Go on and on,
I grab my collection of burn-marks,
And burn,
Yet I can’t see the fire,
You try to teach a blind man paint,
I wish it wouldn’t be so much pain.

The need to explore all,
Go on and on,
I turn every stone in my way,
I don’t know how many bugs I slay,
I can’t hear them cry,
I can’t see them bleed,
I only know greed.

The pain in survival,
Go on and on,
Until you can’t go any further,
And when you leave the burden,
You leave life,
You leave mind,
All is left behind.