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#216 Show, Don't Tell

As autumn marches on, we once again find ourselves back to work and study, hopefully filled with renewed energy and the desire to write. But before we start typing away, why not revisit some craft fundamentals?

"Show, don't tell," is age-old advice that encourages writers to tell stories through sensory details, actions, and images, rather than exposition. But that’s easier said than done. The best way to incorporate it into your writing is to practice.

With that in mind, you might enjoy our free 10-day email course on Show, Don't Tell, along with this week's prompts, which are inspired by it and invite you to refine this foundational storytelling skill.

🥇 Winner

Long Live the King

Hazel Ide

Winner of Contest #216 🏆

"I was eight years old the first time I heard his name." Shifting in the hard plastic seat, my wrists are shackled to a metal chain link at the center of the table, limiting my mobility.The officer observes my discomfort passively, already impatient and annoyed with my recollection of events."I was thinking a little more recent, Miss Clark. Like why you were caught standing outside his home with a bloody—""No, no, you don't understand. I need to start at the beginning. So you can understand," I enunciate, not trusting Officer Dougher, an ove...

169 likes

⭐️ Shortlisted

How the Leopard Lost its Spots

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

A gull can fly but Asad could race across the beach like a boy with wings. Gathering speed, he would run lightly across the pebbles, laughing at my attempts to catch him. He was always two steps ahead, but my imagination lifts the memory and gives it flight, so he rises up, soaring clear of the shore. Across the waters, arms outstretched, he disappears into the hope and fear of the horizon. If I squeeze my eyes shut, I am with him, gliding like a seagull against a blood-red sunset. I picture us, arms sprouting feathers, mouths open, shr...

50 likes

The Aquarium

Chris Miller

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

Oh God, it was her. The copper curls. Unmistakeable. Oh God. From the pavement the people inside had been nothing more than unthreatening blurs. It had reminded Eric of the time when the council had fitted one way glass in the large front window of a social services office he had worked in. In an act of miraculous incompetence they had fitted the glass the wrong way round meaning that the vulnerable people waiting for help on the horrible plastic chairs were clearly visible to anyone who happened to be passing, while the identities of ju...

45 likes

Another Chance

Ian Gonzales

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

“Good morning, Arthur,” I say, as the thick metal door shuts behind me with a ponderous clang. Multiple locks automatically click into place, sounding like a series of gunshots. “How are you today?” “Oh, just peachy, Doc.” The man sitting on the other side of the table shifts in his chair. The links of the manacles he wears—bolted to the scuffed, battered tabletop—jingle and clink. “And you?” “Can’t complain, Arthur. Can’t complain.” I set a folder on the table, careful to keep it out of Arthur’s reach. Then I slip into the seat opposite him...

25 likes

One More Shot

Sean Packard

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

One More Shot by Sean Glenn Douglas Packard Show-and-tell is a sacred thing for young boys. There is nothing more dopamine stroking to a five-year old than a stage all his own, the attention of his fellow carpet crawlers, and nothing to talk about but himself and his favorite object in the world. I was a revved engine when my name was picked from the hat. And I knew exactly...

20 likes

Whispers from the Stoop

Maddy Shilts

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

We used to call it the “Homework Stoop.” No homework would ever get done, of course. We were kids who saw too little of each other despite being in the same building all day. All we’d ever do is gossip, trash-talk, and place bets on whose order would be called first. It used to be a place where sweet memories in the making were accented by the sweet aftertaste of our far too bougie drinks. Now it leaves a taste in my mouth as bitter as the scent that fills the air. The fairy lights no longer change color. They just hang there like dying sta...

18 likes

This week's prompts

Start your story in a coffee shop without using obvious words to describe it (e.g. barista, coffee cup.)

Narrative – 68 stories

Write a scene in which a character’s behavior or reaction to something is affected by a past experience — without saying what that experience was.

Character – 51 stories

Include dialogue that shows that a character is socially awkward.

Dialogue – 27 stories

Include a scene in your story in which a character's body language conveys their hidden emotions.

Character – 25 stories

Write a story with an open ending that gives readers just enough details to draw their own conclusions.

Narrative – 111 stories

Stories

Long Live the King

Hazel Ide

Winner of Contest #216 🏆

"I was eight years old the first time I heard his name." Shifting in the hard plastic seat, my wrists are shackled to a metal chain link at the center of the table, limiting my mobility.The officer observes my discomfort passively, already impatient and annoyed with my recollection of events."I was thinking a little more recent, Miss Clark. Like why you were caught standing outside his home with a bloody—""No, no, you don't understand. I need to start at the beginning. So you can understand," I enunciate, not trusting Officer Dougher, an ove...

169 likes

Coffee, Crumbs, and Crisis

Michał Przywara

Submitted to Contest #216

Someone had taken a bite out of his croissant. He was pretty sure he bought a whole one and there was no-one else at their usual table because Jess hadn’t arrived yet – because Jess was late, keeping her usual schedule – but he also didn’t remember taking a bite himself.But he felt crumbs on his lips, between his teeth. Could he have done it? He decided to take another bite, thinking it might jog his memory. No, nothing. He felt his teeth tear the flaky pastry, felt its dough dissolve on his tongue, but it was utterly flavourless. Or rather,...

60 likes

They Know Better

Corey Melin

Submitted to Contest #216

I open my eyes and look over at the clock. “Why do I continue to do so?” I ask myself. Every single day I am scheduled to wake up at six am. Programmed into all of us, so we received the right amount of sleep. We no longer had control over the amount of sleep we take once they inserted the chip under our skin. “...

58 likes

How the Leopard Lost its Spots

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

A gull can fly but Asad could race across the beach like a boy with wings. Gathering speed, he would run lightly across the pebbles, laughing at my attempts to catch him. He was always two steps ahead, but my imagination lifts the memory and gives it flight, so he rises up, soaring clear of the shore. Across the waters, arms outstretched, he disappears into the hope and fear of the horizon. If I squeeze my eyes shut, I am with him, gliding like a seagull against a blood-red sunset. I picture us, arms sprouting feathers, mouths open, shr...

50 likes

The Fix

Derrick M Domican

Submitted to Contest #216

The shorts and t-shirt clad exercisers of various shapes and fitness levels, sipping their beverages while panting, stretching, beads of sweat on their foreheads drying in the cool evening air, dark patches on their backs and stomachs glaring like mournful, weeping eyes, making you feel guilty about unused gym membership that's about to expire.The tap-tap-tapping keyboard pounders, lost in worlds of their own creation, focused, on the words appearing on their screens, working or creating, for themselves or others, lidded containers over-seei...

49 likes

The Aquarium

Chris Miller

Shortlisted for Contest #216 ⭐️

Oh God, it was her. The copper curls. Unmistakeable. Oh God. From the pavement the people inside had been nothing more than unthreatening blurs. It had reminded Eric of the time when the council had fitted one way glass in the large front window of a social services office he had worked in. In an act of miraculous incompetence they had fitted the glass the wrong way round meaning that the vulnerable people waiting for help on the horrible plastic chairs were clearly visible to anyone who happened to be passing, while the identities of ju...

45 likes

The Sugar Thief

Delbert Griffith

Submitted to Contest #216

Things I don’t like about Ina:1. She’s old.2. She smiles too much.3. She always tries to use coupons that have expired.4. She wears cheap, ugly clothes.5. She calls me “dearie.”Things I like about Ina:1. She’s a sugar thief. ...

44 likes

The Menagerie

Submitted to Contest #216

Don Benway and his father were regulars at the hospital’s oncology department and on familiar terms with Gerry, the head porter. ‘Morning, handsome,’ Gerry would say as he approached. ‘How are we today?’‘A darn sight better than you,’ Walter would say, muttering behind his bandages.Walter had undergone regular surgery for over three years and during that time they’d snipped, sliced and cut away so many facial lesions he was almost unrecognisable.‘Your usual seat, sir?’ Gerry would ask, smiling as he pushed Walter’s wheelchair.‘Do I have...

40 likes

The Tin Man

Michelle Oliver

Submitted to Contest #216

The green vinyl creaks as I adjust my position. I’ve had more comfortable seats on a bus, or in a doctor’s waiting room. This was no exaggeration. Over the last eighteen months, I have had plenty of experience with doctors’ waiting rooms.My whole body is aching and I’m unable to keep my eyes open, but I’m afraid to close them. The young girl who took my order an hour ago walks past, cloth in hand, to clear the table beside me and she glances my way with curiosity. I smile wanly and continue to pretend to sip a brew long gone cold. I don’t ca...

40 likes

Running on Fumes

Anthony Carello

Submitted to Contest #216

“Dad, are we there yet?” Emily’s voice is soft and sweet as she asks the same question again. I don’t mind, though. “Not yet, sweetie.” Through the rear-view mirror, I can see her resign herself and shift uncomfortably. It seems like just yesterday when I held her in my arms, an innocent baby. A lot can change in eight years. The past few months haven't been easy on any of us, but as her father, I’ve tried my best to shelter her from the worst of it. It was all so sudden that I didn’t even have time to process it. My head hurts as ...

37 likes

Walking to California

Mary Bendickson

Submitted to Contest #216

Kendra finished her search in her deceased grandfather's quarters. She went to relieve 'Lena leading the oxen pulling the wagon. “I'll want to look a little deeper through some of Pappy's things but I found enough for tonight with the wagon master. I'm gonna let you start on the bread and anything else you plan for supper. Hope it's okay I leave that up to you.” “Dat be no trouble 't all. Yu uns havin' such a day. Whys ya so worry 'bouts wha' dis man says?” 'Lena wanted to know. “Our future depends on if he'll let us stay with this train. Gu...

35 likes

Another Queen on the Board

Story Time

Submitted to Contest #216

You can’t go home right now. Go to that pizza place that’s always open. Order the buffalo chicken. You have some cash on you from the other day when Uncle Greg slipped you a twenty. That’s enough for two slices. You can have some pizza and check your phone. Play some chess. You need to play more chess. You’re good, but you could be better. You always give up your bishops right off the bat. That’s no way to play. You gotta protect your pieces. I don’t care if the other guy is willing to give up his good pieces; that doesn’t mean you have to...

33 likes

The Identity Thief

Submitted to Contest #216

“This is the hunter's badge of glory - That he protects and tends his quarry, - Hunts with honor, as is due - And through the beast to God is true.”--Jagergmeister, by Oskar von Riesenthal (taken from the back of a Jagermeister bottle, half-full).* * *I am left to imagine the circumstances of a most unusual case, which has the Grimlace’s handiwork written all over it. The Grimlace has stolen another victim’s visage and memories, leaving her a withered amnesiac. She was wandering ghostlike amid the streets of Frankfurt with no idea ...

33 likes

The Beavis and Butt-Head Self-Help Program for the Socially Awkward

Murray Burns

Submitted to Contest #216

The Beavis and Butt-Head Self-Help Program for the Socially AwkwardPre-school.“Ernie, have you met the new girl, Melissa?”“No, Miss Finn.”“Would you like to meet her?”“Not really.”“Well, you should want to know everyone in our group. Ernie, this is Melissa. Melissa, this is Ernie.”“Oh, I know her! She’s the one who farted in church last week.”“Earnest!”“What? She did fart, Miss Finn. Didn’t you…Melissa? Tell her how you farted right in the middle of Father John’s Homily. It was a loud one, Miss Finn! It was the funniest thing! You should hav...

31 likes

Waiting Up

Submitted to Contest #216

Norm had waited out in the drizzling rain before the slightly hungover young woman opened the shop late—a full eight minutes after the advertised six o’clock open time. In Norm’s line of work as a pastor, waiting was his stock-in-trade and he had grown quite used to the fact that things like opening times and scheduled meetings were more suggestions than anything you could rely on. Standing under the awning, huddled under his umbrella, the morning rain had come sideways and caught in his gray beard and wet his face. He panted ...

29 likes

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Contest #217

This contest has ended. Thank you for your submissions.

$250

Prize money

282

Entries

114

Stories

Ended on 23:59 - Sep 22, 2023 EST

Won by Hazel Ide 🏆

Title: Long Live the King

Submissions must be between 1,000 - 3,000 words and will be approved and published on Reedsy Prompts within 7 days of the contest closing.

Read the full terms & conditions or check out the FAQ if you have any questions!

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