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Showing vs. TellingAs you can see, we learn the exact same facts in the second example as we do in the first. However, the second has the advantage of being far more interesting. Instead of being told what kind of person the cab driver is, the most important aspects of his character have been shown through his dialogue.
Harlan Baxter, the man driving the cab, was astoundingly obnoxious. He kept calling me 'doll,' and prattled on and on about his days as a circus tightrope walker. I did my best to ignore him. My best wasn't good enough.
"So I come home," said the cab driver, despite my obvious lack of interest in his stories, "and I see my wife sitting on the kitchen counter with a rolling pin in her hands. She says to me, 'Harlan Avery Baxter, you drink far too much. If you don't sober up soon, you ain't gonna get a chance to sober up ever.' So what I did was I told her that me a
Conflict - Story 4, Chapter 5Mausoleum
“We can’t just run forever!” Pura yelled.
“Hell yes we can!”
Sprinting faster than they ever had before, Campren and Pura blazed down the hall. More doors flew open as they passed them, unleashing even more beasts that joined the oncoming mob.
“They don’t want me. They just want the girl.”
It wouldn’t require much effort to kill Pura. All it would take was a simple shove: she’d fall to the ground and nature would take its course.
"No! Shut up, brain! Gah!”
His legs burned. Pura seemed to be holding up surpringly well, though. Every now and then she would glance up at his face, as if to check how tired he looked.
“Don’t worry,” he told her,
Conflict - Story 4, Epilogue “Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Don’t look down."
Campren carefully placed his foot onto the embossed head of demon. He didn’t know how far off the ground he was, nor did he wish to know.
“We’re almost there!” Pura called down to him. “There’s an angel’s halo up near the top that we can sit on!”
“Wheee,” Campren cheered weakly.
It was slow going, but he eventually caught up with Pura at the Halo. Unfortunately, as soon as he was safely sitting on it, his gaze wandered downward.
Nausea overcame him. He leaned forward and retched onto the polished stone floor below.
“Okay,” he muttered, wiping the vomit from his chin. “I’m good now.
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