Think Like a Screenwriter: Show, Don’t Tell Your Novel to Death

by Zena Dell Lowe @ZenaDellLowe

If your character spends most of your novel thinking, your readers will stop feeling.

The problem is, many novelists don’t know how to tell a story without overly relying on their characters’ thoughts. That’s understandable—because in a novel, everything the reader learns is filtered through a character’s point of view. We’re always inside someone’s head, seeing the world through their lens.

In screenwriting, though, the information comes through a literal lens—the camera. It's all about what we see on the screen. Screenwriters can't tell us what a character is thinking or feeling. Their job is to show us, using action, behavior, and visual imagery that gives the audience clues. Then it’s up to the audience to interpret those clues and draw their own conclusions.

So yes, novelists have the luxury of internal thought—and the medium demands it—but too many lean on it like a crutch. They forget that fiction is also a visual art. The key is strategic introspection, supported by storytelling that the reader can see and feel.

So how do you do that? How do you take all those swirling thoughts and emotions and turn them into tangible actions, images, or moments that pull the reader deeper into your world?

Let’s break it down.

Show the Feeling in Your Writing: The Power of Visual Imagery

The first step is to take the raw emotion your character is feeling and ask: What does it look like? What kind of behavior would make that emotion visible?

If your character is sad, you could write, “She was sad.” But that’s flat. On-the-nose. Uninteresting. Instead, consider how sadness might manifest. What might she do that would make us say, “Oh… she’s sad.”

Maybe she’s sitting in the dark, eating ice cream straight from the carton while a TV show drones in the background. She’s still in yesterday’s clothes. The curtains are drawn. Dust motes drift in the dim light. You don’t have to tell me she’s sad—I can see it. The visuals speak for themselves.

But here’s the thing: this is a generic picture of depression. What you really want is character-specific behavior.Anyone can eat ice cream in the dark. But maybe your character eats frozen peas because that’s what she used to share with her sister on bad days. Maybe she doesn’t just sit still—she burns old love letters, or rewatches footage from a failed audition, or silently sharpens knives she doesn’t plan to use.

When you show emotion through personalized action, it’s twice as powerful. Because now, you’re not just showing howyour character feels—you’re revealing who they are.

So instead of relying on inner monologue, ask: what would this specific person do?

Let’s say your character is determined to turn their life around. Don’t tell me they’re ready for change—show them setting an alarm for 5 AM, lacing up worn-out sneakers, and running past the liquor store they used to frequent. Maybe they’re gulping raw eggs or slapping affirmations onto their mirror. We understand the internal shift, because we’re watching it play out.

That’s the power of imagery.

Actions and visuals make emotions visceral. They don’t just inform—they invite. They give your reader something to experience, not just absorb. And that act of participation creates a deeper emotional connection between the audience and your characters.

Say It with a Prop

Even in novels—where internal thoughts are allowed—challenge yourself to replace or supplement those thoughts with props: physical objects that carry emotional or symbolic weight.

Props can be powerful tools for visual storytelling. A single object, carefully chosen, can evoke memory, history, irony, or unspoken tension—without a word of explanation.

Let’s say your character is reflecting on how her mother grew up with limited opportunities. Instead of spelling it out in her thoughts, show her discovering an old photo: her mother as a teenager, wearing a hand-me-down dress and standing outside a one-room schoolhouse. That image alone speaks volumes. You can still include reflection if needed—but now, the prop is doing the emotional heavy lifting.

Or imagine a marriage falling apart. She sets the table for two, but he’s already eaten. Later, she finds his coffee mug in the sink—still warm—but he’s gone. The dishes become more than dishes; they’re symbols of absence, of disconnection. We feel the distance, because we see it.

Props aren’t just set dressing—they’re emotional shorthand. They offer subtext, texture, and memory. And when used with intention, they can reveal more about a character than a paragraph of introspection ever could.

The Danger of Passive Characters

When too much of your story happens inside your character’s head, they risk becoming passive. Passive characters observe. Active characters engage. And it’s the active ones who drive your story forward.

A protagonist who reflects, reminisces, or daydreams might be beautifully written—but if they don’t do anything, your story stalls.

Now imagine that same character taking action. Instead of mulling over an argument with her mother, she marches over to confront her. Instead of reminiscing about a lost love, she books a plane ticket to chase the one who got away. That’s momentum. And momentum is what keeps your audience turning the page.

Want to make your writing more dynamic right now? Try this:

• 1. Scan your manuscript for internal lines—places where you’ve written what your character is thinking or feeling.

• 2. Ask yourself: What could they do instead?

• 3. Rewrite that moment as a visual or behavioral beat.

Here’s a simple example:

✘ She thought about how unfair it was that her brother always got more attention.

✔ She paused at the hallway table, staring at the trophies. Each plaque bore her brother’s name, polished to a shine. Her own ribbon, frayed and faded, was crammed into a drawer beneath them.

See the difference? The second version invites the reader to experience the emotion instead of being told what it is.

That’s the power of showing.

So, as you revise, keep asking yourself: “How can I show this?” Make it your creative mantra. Because the more you show, the more your audience will feel—and that’s what makes a story unforgettable.

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Think Like a Screenwriter: Show, Don’t Tell Your Novel to Death from @ZenaDellLowe on @EdieMelson (Click to Tweet)

Zena has worked professionally in the entertainment industry for over 20 years as a writer, producer, director, actress, and story consultant. Zena also teaches advanced classes on writing all over the country. As a writer, Zena has won numerous awards for her work. She also has several feature film projects in development through her independent production company, Mission Ranch Films. In addition to her work as a filmmaker, Zena launched The Storyteller’s Mission with Zena Dell Lowe, a podcast designed to serve the whole artist, not just focus on craft. In 2021, Zena launched The Storyteller’s Mission Online Platform, where she offers advanced classes and other key services to writers. Zena loves story and loves to support storytellers. Her passion is to equip artists of all levels to achieve excellence at their craft, so that they will truly have everything they need to change the world for the better through story.

To find out more about Zena or her current courses and projects, check out her websites at WWW.MISSIONRANCHFILMS.COM and WWW.THESTORYTELLERSMISSION.COM