Showing, not Telling
Monday, March 31st, 2008While we were away last month I did make some progress on Henderson's Tenants, but so far it's just polishing and revising the first few chapters.
Amazing how problems can leap out when you haven't looked at the script in a while. Here's an example of how I totally missed a chance to properly introduce the heroine of the story, a teenager named Patty Paek. Mike Henderson has walked up the street to the local open-air market to do some shopping on a hot June morning in 2030:
He bought a couple of tofu steaks, some locally made kimchi, and a bag of green beans from his second-floor tenant Mr. Paek, who always seemed happy to be in business no matter how bad business might be. His daughter Patty was helping him. She was a skinny little kid of 17 or 18, wearing newly fashionable jeans and T-shirt. Her glasses were real, not a computer interface. In the back of the booth were plastic pots full of seedlings Patty was growing: herbs mostly, but also some flowers. They sold well; Mike had Patty's basil and oregano and chives growing on his balcony, and an ornamental grass that dipped and swayed in the warm summer breezes.
When I read this, I scrawled in the margin, dramatize!
And here's how I tried to turn this boring exposition into a scene:As usual, he went to his second-floor tenant, Mr. Paek, who had a booth under a tarp covered with solar cells.
“Good morning, Mr. Henderson.”
“Morning, Mr. Paek. Hi, Patty.”
“Hi, Mr. Henderson. How are you?” She was a skinny little kid of 17 or 18, wearing newly fashionable jeans and a t-shirt with some chop star’s face on it. Her glasses were real, not a computer interface.
“Fine. Uh—“ He scanned the little transparent cooler that held most of the groceries. “Guess I’ll have a couple of those tofu steaks. Green beans look good.”
“Grew them myself on the balcony,” Patty said.
“I noticed you were growing things. Good, I’ll take half a kilo. Did you make the kimchi too?”
“No, that’s commercial stuff.”
“Looks good.” He put a jar of it in his backpack. “How are the herbs selling?”
“Very well,” said Mr. Paek. “Patty has a green thumb.” In the back of the booth were plastic pots full of seedlings Patty was growing: herbs mostly, but also some flowers. They sold well; Mike had Patty’s basil and oregano and chives growing on his balcony, and an ornamental grass that dipped and swayed in the warm summer breezes.
It's far from perfect, but it's closer to what I want. The passage leads to conversation about Patty's college plans and gives us a hint of Mr. Paek's pride in his smart daughter—and their status as exiles from a war-poisoned Korean peninsula. At least I've established some points about Patty's association with the plant world, because that's going to be critical to the climax of the story.
We're going away again this week, to a remote island with little computer access, so I'll keep scrawling in the margins of the manuscript.