“He knew that Sarah would never go for a trip to Tuscon. In all his time spent with her, Matthew had never once heard her say something good about the town. In thinking about the situation, he decided to try and avoid the topic altogether because her ex-boyfriend Larry lived there. He knew he was better off not mentioning Tuscon or Larry, at risk of starting a fight with her.

It all happened five years ago, when Sarah lived with Larry in Tuscon. At first things had been great. Larry and Sarah had the trappings of the happy kind of ideal life everyone dreams about. White picket fence, two cars and a baby on the way.

That was until Larry came home covered in blood one night. He’d been moonlighting as a criminal, and while on the job his partner got shot. What Sarah didn’t know is that Matthew was the partner. It was his blood on Larry that night. It was his blood that had dragged Sarah across time and space, and gotten her involved in the criminal underworld. She couldn’t have known it at that time, but it was all Matthew’s fault.”

He knew or she knew is a sure sign of rambling off into character headspace. It is telling, not showing. I don’t want to know why Matthew knows not to bring up a certain topic with Sarah. I want to witness him having a conversation with Sarah, and dancing around the subject Pinteresque style.

“I have to head out of town.” Matthew said.
“Why, where?” Sarah asked.
“I need to go get the money.”
She hesitated a moment, thinking. “I’m coming with.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Why not? I’m part of this deal too, ya know.”
“You won’t like where we’re going.”
“How do you know that? Try me?”
“Are we really going to fight about this?”
“We’re fighting now?”
“No, you just have to take my word for it.”
“No I don’t.”
“I didn’t want to mention the thing.”
“What thing?” Her voice cracked.
Matthew sighed. “Nevermind.”
Sarah bristled. “The thing I think you’re talking about? That thing?”
“I don’t know, depends on what thing you’re talking about.” Matthew said.
Sarah put her hands on his shoulders, and pushed him back on the mattress. “What the hell are you saying? Spit it out.”
“You won’t like it.”
“How can you possibly say that?”
“One word.”
Sarah sat for a moment, thinking. Her face grew tight, and her mouth formed a grimace. “Tuscon. You’re talking about Tuscon.”
The air conditioner of the hotel room went on humming its tune.
Matthew cleared his throat. “Actually, I was talking about Larry.”
She launched back at him. “Same difference. I hate that damn town.”
Michael’s shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry. It’s my fault.”
“What? What’s your fault?” She leaned in close.
“Everything.”
Sarah began to fidget with the ring on her finger. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Nothing, nevermind.” Matthew groaned, punching the mattress.
“Tuscon and Larry seem to bother you more than they bother me. I want to know why.”
Matthew sighed again. “You wouldn’t understand.”
“You’re right, I don’t understand.” She looked at the scars across Matthew’s stomach. The furrow of her brow changed. Her face went white . Sarah stood up, and walked a few paces, then circled back. She was wringing her hands. “It was you. It was your blood on Larry that night.”
Matthew’s didn’t say a word. He wouldn’t look at her. He just sat there on the bed, the puppy scolded for chewing on a slipper.

Now, the back and forth dialogue is just a first pass. The scene is in danger of talking head syndrome. It could use some more action. Although passivity may be part of Michael’s character, it makes for a dull scene. Maybe he gets a beer out of the hotel refridgerator, or a bag of supplies they brought with them. Maybe he slams the little fridge door, or tosses the bag aside with emphasis. Body language is important. The scene already has some, but it could use a little more. Maybe even some dramatic outbursts of Michael expressing his inability to communicate in direct fashion — some physical venting might work nice.

All that said, the entire thing is better than a few paragraphs of rambling in the character headspace.

I don’t want an abstract explanation of how or why a character knows certain information. Don’t give me an evaluation inside the character’s head. Like lots of readers I enjoy the mystery over whether or not a character knows more than they are letting on. The only way to do this is through confrontations and dialogue.

“He knew,” is the enemy. Show, don’t tell.

P.S. This is just a little practice scene I whipped up to sharpen chops. Got any suggestions for making it better? Totally open for some collaborative fun here for the sake of learning.

Update: By interesting coincidence Crof just did a similar post.