showing not telling and pivot points

1. Small pictures

2. Small pictures
Show, don’t tell.

3. Small pictures
Show, don’t tell.
Find the pivot points.

4. Small pictures
Show, don’t tell.
Find the pivot points.
– Break at every new action, description, or
piece of dialogue.

5. Humans of New York
“I liked drugs, but that wasn’t the reason. And it wasn’t that I needed money either. I had money. I just wanted more of it. Back
then I could rob every bank in the city and nobody would notice. There were hardly any cameras. I robbed about thirty before I
even got caught. But one night when I was twenty-five years old, I went to rob a jewelry store. The guy was a criminal himself.
He bought jewelry from thieves. Of course I thought he’d panic and give me the money, but he pulled a gun on me. So I shot him
twice. I only meant to shoot him once but I squeezed the trigger too hard. He ended up losing an arm. And I went to jail for
thirteen years—that son of a bitch. He should have just stayed put. Now I’m 62. I’m a veteran. I just got out of jail for the seventh
time in December. I’m sleeping on this bench. Looking back, it’s been a horrible life. I should have done things differently. I
should have invested the money I stole.”
(Madrid, Spain)

6. Avery’s draft
At 4:40 on a Saturday night in November of 2007, May stood, with bare feet, on cold sand. White foam greeted the tips of her
toes as waves rolled in and out. It was cold on the beach, and wind blew briskly by, tangling her long blonde hair and blowing her
brown patterned skirt wildly in all directions. As the sun sank low in the sky, the 7-year-old girl begged to go home, but her mother
refused her requests because May’s grandmother had yet to arrive. They had planned to meet at 4:30 to take a family picture, featuring
all three living generations of the family, but May’s visiting grandmother, Mary Ann Becklenberg, was not in sight, and the picture
could not be taken without her.
Mary Ann had been visiting her son’s family, May’s family, in the small ocean-side town of Pacific Grove, California for about
three weeks, and when Heidi, Mary Ann’s daughter-in-law, suggested meeting at a nearby beach for a sunset picture to commemorate
her trip, she enthusiastically agreed. Mary Ann frequently visited that beach, and had walked there alone countless times before, so
when she did not arrive on time for the picture, her family began to worry. The sun was setting quickly, and if Mary Ann did not arrive
soon, the picture would be rescheduled.
The sun set at 4:52 pm that night, and Mary Ann was still nowhere in sight. The beach plunged into darkness, so the family
decided to go look for her. May and her family loaded into the car and drove slowly along the coast, looking for signs of their loved
one. After driving about a mile in anxious silence, Heidi’s eyes rested upon the silhouette of woman shivering in the cold on the side of
the road. Realizing it was Mary Ann, carrying her favorite purse and wearing gold earrings and red lipstick, they pulled over, stopped
the car, and motioned for her to climb in.
Mary Ann reluctantly approached the car, a concerned, bewildered look in her eyes. She sat down in the vehicle, and Heidi
began to ask questions. “Where were you?” she exclaimed, expressing her concern. “Are you alright? What happened? Was I unclear
about which beach we went to?” Mary Ann, clearly confused but relieved to have found her family, was equally concerned. She
seemed to believe that her family, not herself, had gotten lost; she did not realize that the section of beach where she had waited was a
mile away from their usual meeting spot. The family rode back to Mary Ann’s cottage in silence. May, still bitter that she was forced to
stand so long on the cold beach, did not pay much attention to her grandmother’s distraction and distress.