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Writers of Medium, Let’s Discuss The Great ‘Show Don’t Tell’ Debacle
And why this phrase makes you look like an amateur
I am annoyed.
No wait, sorry. I sounded like such a boring normal person just then. Are we not writers? Let’s go again.
As I sit, three different types of deceased remnants of trees variously placed beneath my feet, my arse, my arms, and as my digits, lit by the light of the ingenuity of humankind that came together one day to create this incredible machine that I so lightly tap-tap on, I feel a tightening, a vague constriction around my chest, my abdomen, my throat. I peel off a layer to ease the discomfort yet it does not abate. The increasing beat of my blood in my wrists, my neck, my ears becomes deafening, becomes so powerful it would scare me if not for the overwhelming force of my own fearful heart, as though one thousand black horses were dragging it, faster, faster, straight to Hell! As though it will tear itself out of its cage of ivory and gristle and yet… and yet… all I know, all I see as I stare through these ocean-on-a-stormy-day coloured orbs is…RED!
Do you want to know why I’m annoyed? Because for all that, this isn’t even what “show don’t tell” actually means.
