When I wrote about “The art of showing, not telling” recently, I realised how many great examples of this technique exist in literature. Some authors take it to the next level, showing us emotions, relationships, and tension in ways that draw entirely us into the story without a single line of “telling.” I thought it might be useful to look at a few of these standout examples and the writers who have mastered the art of showing so well that their stories linger long after you’ve finished reading.
1. Shirley Jackson’s We Have Always Lived in the Castle
In We Have Always Lived in the Castle, Jackson never outright declares that the narrator, Merricat, is mentally unstable or deeply troubled.
Instead, the reader pieces it together through Merricat’s odd rituals, her fixation on protective charms, and the peculiar, almost childlike logic she applies to the world around her. These small, unsettling details let readers feel Merricat’s fragile mental state without having to be explicitly told.
2. Khaled Hosseini’s The Kite Runner
Hosseini reveals Amir’s guilt and longing for redemption through his actions, memories, and the relationships that define him.
Rather than stating “Amir feels guilty,” the novel shows his discomfort during moments of kindness from Hassan, his reluctance to confront their shared past, and his eventual choice to take responsibility. This allows readers to feel the weight of Amir’s inner conflict rather than just being told it exists.
3. J.K. Rowling’s Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone
J.K. Rowling often illustrates character traits through action rather than exposition. For instance, Harry’s bravery and loyalty are revealed not by a narrator labeling him courageous but through moments like standing up to Draco Malfoy or risking punishment to help a friend.
In the same way, Hagrid’s kindness and vulnerability come through in his bumbling, heartfelt attempts to protect Harry rather than a simple statement about him being “kind-hearted.” These small, concrete details bring the characters to life.
4. Kazuo Ishiguro’s Never Let Me Go
Ishiguro’s subtle use of detail and atmosphere shows the underlying tension and sadness of his characters' existence. Instead of stating outright that the students at Hailsham live in a carefully controlled environment with a grim fate, the novel allows readers to piece it together through their subdued conversations, small acts of rebellion, and poignant moments of clarity. The restrained narrative invites readers to experience the emotional weight firsthand.
5. F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby
Fitzgerald never outright states that Gatsby is hopelessly obsessed with the past—he shows it in every carefully curated detail. Gatsby’s extravagant parties, thrown not for his own enjoyment but in the desperate hope that Daisy will one day appear, speak louder than any direct exposition could.
His insistence that “you can’t repeat the past” is met with his own stubborn belief that he can, in fact, rewrite history. Through his illusions, lingering stares, and the careful orchestration of his world, Fitzgerald allows readers to feel Gatsby’s longing and delusion rather than simply being told he’s obsessed.
6. Cormac McCarthy’s The Road
McCarthy never explicitly states how bleak and hopeless the world of The Road is. He is so much better than that. Instead, he shows it through sparse, brutal descriptions of the landscape, the father’s quiet desperation, and the small, fleeting moments of tenderness between father and son.
The dialogue is stripped down, the prose is unembellished, and yet, every interaction carries the weight of survival. That's why it is such a brilliant novel. Instead of telling us “this is a harsh world,” McCarthy immerses us in it, making the reader feel the desolation with every measured word.
'On the far side of the river valley the road passed through a stark black burn. Charred and limbless trunks of trees stretching away on every side. Ash moving over the road and the sagging hands of blind wire strung from the blackened lightpoles whining thinly in the wind. A burned house in a clearing and beyond that a reach of meadowlands stark and gray and a raw red mudbank where a roadworks lay abandoned.'
How to Stay on Track with Show, Don’t Tell
It’s easy to fall into the trap of too much telling, but keeping these principles in mind will help:
- Use action and subtext. Show emotions through what a character does, not just what they think or say.
- Lean into body language. Instead of saying “she was nervous,” let her fidget, avoid eye contact, or tap her foot.
- Let the reader work for it. Trust that your audience can infer meaning—don’t over-explain.
- Balance is key. Not everything needs to be shown in painstaking detail. Sometimes, a well-placed line of telling is necessary to keep the story moving.
The best writing finds the perfect mix. It allows readers to feel the weight of the story rather than just being told what to think.
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