Inference: The Invisible Bridge Between Scenes
Try my exercise below to start showing, rather than telling!
Writers often think of “show, don’t tell” as something that happens inside the scene. But some of the strongest effects stem from what happens around the scene — before and after. This is where inference lives.
In my book, Unputdownable, I explain how this is one of several ways of showing, rather than telling. Inference occurs when you let the reader piece elements together instead of spelling it out. Sometimes the conclusion is obvious, sometimes it’s a shadow of something. Either way, letting the reader connect the dots generates immersion, which is what show, don’t tell aims to create.
Think of it as bookends:
In the preparation for a scene, you might let us glimpse something small that hints at what’s about to happen.
In the aftermath, you might skip the action itself and show us only the fallout, letting us piece together what must have transpired.
An unopened letter hidden in a drawer.
A smile rehearsed in the mirror.
Shards of glass on the kitchen floor.
We don’t need the full explanation every time. The object, the silence, the reaction — these are enough to make us lean forward – which is precisely what the author wants.
The beauty of inference is that it works at different depths: Sometimes the inference makes the event perfectly clear, and the power lies in how little space you need to devote to it. Other times, the inference only opens a door. We know something happened, but not yet what. That gap becomes a live wire in the story, pushing the reader forward.
For example, rather than telling the reader that time passes, we can just change something in a scene, without even drawing much attention to it. The weather, the plants, dirt, clothes, skin, hair, and so on.
Most advice online reduces “show, don’t tell” to a single trick: describe instead of label. But inference is not just description. It’s timing and trusting the reader.
When you master inference, you stop pushing information at your reader, inviting them to take part. Because an inference is always greater than the words you use to give us hints.
You show us the detective slipping the photo back into her own pocket, the one she claimed had gone missing from the file.
How to practice inference
Take a finished scene and delete a sentence from the top and/or bottom. Leave only the echo behind. Read the passage back. Is the meaning still there? If it does, you’ve discovered inference at work. Then remove one more. How far can you go? Think of the famous Hemingway six-word story: For sale: baby shoes, never worn.