Moody, vintage-style graphic. A tuxedoed magician holds a glowing playing card with two hearts over a red table. On the table, nine cards show icons: a rook/castle, two chat bubbles, a second hearts card, an analog clock, a chess knight, two-person silhouettes, a sealed envelope, a theater mask, and a single-person silhouette. Caption reads, ‘Exposition is sleight of hand, not a full-deck reveal.’ MAR Literary Services logo sits in the lower right corner.

Exposition vs Show Don’t Tell: You’re Playing The Trick Backwards

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Here’s the thing about exposition—it’s a magic trick. Done right, it’s sleight of hand. You slip in background, stakes, or emotion without stopping the story cold. But too many writers treat it like a full deck reveal. They dump everything at once and hope the reader applauds.

They don’t.

As an experienced beta reader, I have seen this mistake so often I can spot it on instinct. I have read manuscripts where a character walks into a room and we immediately get three pages of their entire traumatic backstory. I have seen first chapters pause mid action to explain a kingdom’s political system before the reader even knows who the protagonist is. There was a breakup scene once that spent an entire chapter describing the stages of grief instead of just showing us the grief.Here’s the hard truth: most of the time, you’re giving away the trick too early. When you do that, readers do not lean in; they bounce. They stop caring. And if it happens too often? Your book goes in the DNF pile. Readers are unforgiving when it comes to what they give their attention to. It’s your job to grab and hold their attention for the 200+ pages you wrote.

The Problem with Showing Without Purpose

On the flip side, showing without clear purpose can be just as detrimental. This is like laying cards on the table, but there’s no trick. There is just clutter. You might spend five pages describing a character wandering around, staring out windows, clutching mugs, and sighing heavily. Or every emotion gets described with facial twitches, heartbeats, or clenched fists, but there’s no context for why any of it matters.

Showing without grounding turns into noise. You are presenting details, but they lack meaning. This kind of writing does not create connection; it creates confusion and boredom. A reader needs more than just a stream of sensory input. They need to understand its significance.


The Confusion of “Show, Don’t Tell”

For new writers, the advice to “show, don’t tell” can be one of the most frustrating pieces of guidance out there. It gets repeated constantly, but rarely does anyone actually explain what needs to be shown and what needs to be told. This vagueness creates immense confusion. It can demoralize a writer, making them feel they will never truly understand it. I know that feeling myself, most of the time.

The reality is, the common mantra is misleading. It is not “show, don’t tell.” It is show and tell. These two techniques are not rivals; they are partners. One cannot live without the other in a well-crafted story. Thinking of them as opposing forces causes unnecessary stress and leads to unbalanced writing. Your job as a writer is to know when to pull out each tool from your toolbox.

Finding the Balance: It’s All About Intention

First, stop thinking of “show” and “tell” as rivals. You need both. The key is intention.

Exposition is for clarity. Use it when the character already understands what is happening. The reader can quickly grasp the situation without needing to see the character discover it step by step. Exposition is also suitable when the moment needs to move fast and stay clean, or when the information is background and not emotionally charged. Facts, historical details, or setting descriptions often work best with a direct approach.

Think of telling as quickly setting the stage or providing essential, non-emotional facts to keep the reader grounded. It summarizes what the reader needs to know without needing to experience every detail of its revelation.

Showing is for connection. Use it when you want the reader to feel something at the same time the character does. Experiencing a scene through action and sensory detail creates empathy. Showing is vital when the moment holds significant emotional weight or represents a shift in motivation. Actions and dialogue can convey the depth of feeling more powerfully than a simple statement. It also builds suspense and investment when the reader needs to sense a change in stakes before being told about it, drawing them further into the emotional core of the story.

Showing immerses the reader. It allows them to witness, feel, and interpret the scene for themselves. This is where the magic truly happens.


The “Mom vs. Friend” Test: A Simple Exercise

To explore this balance, try a simple mental exercise: the “Mom vs. Friend” test.

Imagine you just experienced something significant. Now, consider how you would recount it to two different people:

  • How would you tell your mom? 
    For your mom, you would likely share the essential fact, the bare bones. You’d tell her someone asked you on a date. This is the “tell” mode. It’s direct, concise, and focuses on getting the core information across efficiently. You give her the summary.
  • How would you tell your best friend? 
    For your best friend, you would likely dramatize it. You would show them everything. You’d describe the person’s captivating smile, the way their eyes crinkled when they laughed, the nervous flutter in your stomach as they spoke. You would gush about how they made you feel, the details you would never share with your mom. This is the “show” mode. It is full of sensory details, emotional reactions, and moment by moment action. You want them to feel it with you.

Applying this test to your writing can be incredibly insightful. It will help you understand when you’ve overshared with your mom, and when your friend needs more details. Is this a piece of information you would tell your mom for quick clarity, or is it an experience you would fully and dramatically show your best friend for maximum impact? This helps you gauge whether to tell concisely or to expand into a vivid scene.


What to Show and What to Tell: A Rule of Thumb

The confusion around “show, don’t tell” often stems from a lack of clear guidance on what belongs where. Here is a good rule of thumb to help you decide:

Show These Elements:

  • Emotions: Instead of stating a character is sad, show their trembling hand, their downcast eyes, or how they stare at a half-packed suitcase, pick up a photo, and set it back down without looking. Emotions are felt and experienced through observable actions and internal sensations.
  • Sensory Details: These are the sights, sounds, smells, tastes, and textures that immerse the reader in your world. Describe the cold knot in a character’s stomach, the dusty smell of an old book, or the metallic tang of fear in the air. These details make the scene real.
  • Character Traits: Do not just say “She was kind.” Show her helping an elderly person cross the street, or speaking gently to a scared child. Let her actions define her personality.
  • Relationships: Instead of stating “They had a strained relationship,” show them avoiding eye contact, snapping at each other over small things, or using overly formal names instead of endearments.
  • Key Plot Progression: Major plot points, revelations, and turning points should generally unfold through scenes, actions, and dialogue. Let the reader witness these moments.
  • Subtext: What is not said can be powerfully shown through body language, pauses, and unspoken reactions. The unspoken tension in a room, for example, is best shown, not told.

Tell These Elements:

  • Passage of Time: Simple statements like “Three days later,” “A week went by,” or “The following morning” are efficient ways to move the timeline forward without unnecessary detail.
  • Summary of Non-Essential Events: Routine actions or events that happen off screen but are necessary for context can be told concisely. For instance, “She drove to the grocery store and bought ingredients for dinner.” The reader does not need to witness every aisle.
  • Background Information Not Emotionally Charged: Historical facts, general setting details, or overarching context the reader needs but does not need to experience moment by moment. This is factual information that supports the story without being the story itself.
  • Brief Character History: If a quick fact about a character’s past is needed for context but is not central to an immediate emotional impact, telling it directly can be efficient. For example, “He had worked as a fisherman for twenty years before moving inland.”
  • Transitions: When moving from one scene to another, or from one time period to another, telling can provide a smooth bridge. “After the conference, she took the night train south.”
  • Generalizations and Overviews: Sometimes, you need to provide a broad sense of a situation before diving into specifics. “The city was always bustling, a chaotic symphony of sights and sounds.” This can set the stage before showing a specific, detailed scene within that city.
  • Interiority: This is a mixed bag. A character’s thoughts, reflections, and inner feelings can be told or shown. A direct thought like “He thought he was afraid” is telling. However, you can show that fear through specific internal sensations and revealing thoughts: “A cold knot tightened in his stomach. He pictured the empty house, the darkened hallway, and his breath hitched.” The latter is showing fear through internal physical sensation and revealing thought, which is much more impactful. The key is to make interiority active and revealing, not just a passive statement of emotion.

Refining Your Craft

Once you understand the intention behind each technique, refining your writing becomes simpler.

If you have just written a paragraph of exposition, ask yourself: Does the reader need all of this now? Could some of it be hinted at and paid off later? You do not have to reveal every secret at once. Sometimes, a subtle hint creates more intrigue than a full explanation, keeping the reader guessing and engaged in your magic act.

If you have written a scene that “shows” for pages without the story moving, ask: What is the purpose of this beat? What does the character want? What’s changing? Every action, every description, should serve a purpose. If it does not, it is simply clutter that slows down the story and disconnects the reader.

Finally, use your verbs. Showing works best when actions are precise and revealing. Do not have your character “feel sad.” Instead, have them stare at a half-packed suitcase, pick up a photo, and then set it back down without looking. These specific actions convey emotion far more powerfully than a direct statement. Consider writing “His jaw tightened. He slammed his fist on the table, making the glasses jump” instead of “He was angry.”The balance matters. Too much telling, and your story reads like a dry report. Too much showing, and readers lose the thread, overwhelmed by details without clear direction. The trick is not choosing one; it’s knowing when to use each for maximum impact.


How to Sharpen Your Skills

Improving your use of showing and telling takes practice and honest self-critique.

  1. Read Actively and Analyze: Pay close attention to how your favorite authors manage information and emotional delivery. Notice when they tell you something directly and when they show it through character actions and reactions. How do they blend these methods to keep you engaged?
  2. The Highlighting Exercise: This is a powerful technique. Find a book in your genre that you admire. Take two different colored highlighters. Use one color to highlight every instance of showing (sensory details, character actions, specific dialogue revealing emotion). Use the other color to highlight every instance of telling (summaries, direct statements of fact, background information). Now, do the same for a section of your own manuscript. Compare the two. Where do the proportions differ? Are you telling too much where your comparative book shows? Are you showing too much routine detail where your comparative book tells? This visual comparison provides concrete feedback on your unique balance, helping you see where your style aligns with or diverges from established effective writing in your genre. Remember, different genres have different expectations. A dense historical fantasy might need more telling for world building, while a psychological thriller demands more showing for immersive tension.
  3. Review Your Work: When you go over your own manuscripts, consciously look for moments where you tell and moments where you show. Ask yourself: Is this the most effective way to convey this information or emotion? Could a telling moment be made more impactful by showing, or could a showing moment be condensed with telling?
  4. Get Feedback: Share your writing with beta readers or a critique group. Ask them direct questions: Did you understand what was happening here? Did you feel what the character was feeling? Their perspective can highlight areas where your balance is off.
  5. Experiment with Rewriting: Do not be afraid to rewrite scenes to try different approaches. If you initially told something, try to rewrite it using showing. If you showed too much, try to condense it with a concise piece of telling. See how these changes affect the pacing and the reader’s engagement.

Ultimately, balancing exposition and showing honors your reader. It means trusting them to grasp the subtle cues you offer, while also providing necessary information clearly and efficiently. It involves guiding them through your story with a confident hand, making certain that every word serves a purpose. When you command this balance, your story will connect, and your readers will remain captivated until the very end. You’ll perform a true sleight of hand, not a full deck reveal.

About the Author

Maria Acosta Ramirez Avatar

I’m Maria Acosta Ramirez, a lifelong reader and story nerd who has devoured more than 5,000 books and still thinks there’s nothing better than discovering a character who feels real enough to step off the page. I believe in honesty, curiosity, and the messy joy of the creative process.
When I’m not buried in a book or coaxing writers through their first drafts, you can usually find me talking about why reader engagement matters, experimenting with new ways to make writing fun, or questioning every “rule” of storytelling to see if it actually serves the story.
I approach writing and life the same way: with compassion, curiosity, and a little bit of rebellion. I believe that writing should be a conversation between creator and reader, and that growth comes from asking better questions — not chasing perfection.

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