Susan Uhlig

In this picture, do you need someone to tell you the animal has four legs, hooves, and a tail? Probably not. You know it’s a horse and make assumptions about it having legs, etc. Yet, somehow in our writing, we often want to explain.

If you find yourself using phrases such as: knowing that, trying to comprehend, struggling to discern, feeling like, wondering why, worrying, because it was, etc., you’re not trusting your reader. “We want our readers to be invested, to stay curious about the stories we’re writing. Sometimes, this translates to being too overt, holding their hand the entire way through, not allowing them to join the dots themselves.” – Michael Woodson

When we explain, we dilute the intensity of a scene. We’re probably telling, not showing. “Just as naming emotions can evoke no emotion from the reader, it also signals that you don’t trust them enough to understand what you’re trying to show.” – Kristen Overman

Let your reader have the success of “getting it” without you hitting them over the head. “If you’re afraid your readers won’t understand what he’s [a character] doing, or how he’s feeling about it, revise your showing section. Don’t just tack a bit of telling on the end. If you’ve done your job well enough, the reader will get it.” – Melinda Brasher

Other warning signs of explaining are stating emotion in addition to dialogue: his tone was urgent, she sounded upset, my mood shifted, etc. And of course those adverbs with said or asked. (He asked urgently. Use a stronger verb instead, such as demanded.) Take a look at these lines of dialogue:

“Don’t you dare touch that!” – This person’s all happy, right? No. They sound annoyed or angry.
“That’s hilarious.” – This person found something funny, so no need to say more.
“I’ve got to get one of these.” – Sound like excitement. It could also be envy.

More context will help your reader decide, but often dialogue stands well enough alone.

We also may over explain with interiority. Too many thoughts to explain what the reader is feeling and why. Let the actions show. I like how Ruth E. Walker says it, “A simple constriction of the throat — don’t we all know that feeling when sorrow moves up from our aching hearts to tighten our throats? And tears that we can’t stop, coursing down our cheeks and sliding off our chins? Simple short images that call up our own experiences with sorrow—without any window dressing.” (Read more here.)

“The more you leave out, the more you highlight what you leave in,” Henry Green said. Wow! Read that again. That means we’ve been muddying up the story by not leaving things out.

“It’s not just delivering information; it’s engaging with the readers, pulling them in, making them part of the journey. Don’t just spill out everything—leave hints and crumbs that lead to no real right or wrong answer…” – redacted4u on Reddit.

Note: I kept hearing Audrey Hepburn as Eliza Doolittle, saying, “Don’t expline. Show me,” while working on this post.