"Show, Don’t Tell": Forsyth, Goldman, and Black

Scribbling is a balancing act between what you show and what you leave out. In prose and screenwriting, the power lies in trusting your audience to connect the dots. This balance takes many forms.

My fave author, Frederick Forsyth, has a clinical, objective style in his fiction. Hollywood legend William Goldman’s screenplays are clean and precise. My GOAT, Shane Black, set the bar for a generation with irreverent, punchy scripts that leap off the page.

Each method embraces “show, don’t tell,” but in its own way. Forsyth’s fiction removes the author’s voice almost entirely, while Goldman makes himself invisible yet efficient. On the other hand, Black breaks the rules with a conversational style, but only where it serves the story. Together, they show that scribbling stories, in any medium, works best when it respects the intelligence of the audience.

Frederick Forsyth: The Detached Cameraman

Forsyth’s prose, seen in The Day of the Jackal, works like a camera silently observing events unfold. It’s precise, clinical, and objective, stripping away interior monologues and emotional cues. He focuses on action, environment, and detail, leaving readers to interpret the “why.”

When the assassin assembles his rifle, Forsyth doesn’t tell us the man feels calm and methodical. He shows us:

• The weight of the weapon.

• The careful, deliberate movements.

• Each step cataloged with almost mechanical detachment.

It’s as if a camera lingers on the details, trusting you to infer what the character feels. The result is immersive tension without melodrama. Forsyth’s objectivity pulls you into the moment while leaving space for your imagination to work.

William Goldman: The Invisible Architect

Goldman’s work, like Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid and The Princess Bride, follows the same spirit of objectivity but adapts it to screenplay format. He strips his scripts of excess and avoids telling the audience how to feel. He trusts visuals, pacing, and dialogue to do the heavy lifting.

In the classic “Who are those guys?” sequence from Butch Cassidy, Goldman doesn’t explain Sundance and Butch’s rising panic. He shows them:

• Constantly looking over their shoulders.

• Watching the relentless posse close in.

• Growing exhausted as the pursuit drags on.

We feel the tension not because Goldman tells us but because we see it play out. His style is clean, minimal, and designed to disappear. He’s an architect who builds the structure and steps aside so his amazing stories can take center stage.

Shane Black: The Scribbler Who Talks to You

Shane Black breaks the mold. Where Forsyth and Goldman remain invisible, Black talks to the reader. His scripts are visual, punchy, and conversational, with a winking self-awareness. Reading his prose in Lethal Weapon, Kiss Kiss Bang Bang, and The Nice Guys conveys all the feels we get when watching his flicks.

Black never forgets that screenplays are meant to be read first, so he keeps them entertaining:

“It’s the dead of winter. The car skids. Flames leap. The woman’s unconscious body flies OUT the windshield, like a human luge.” — The Long Kiss Goodnight

Black’s rhythm, word choice, and tone amplify the visuals. You can see the moment as clearly as if it’s already been shot.

His ability to break the fourth wall without undermining the story sets Black apart. For example:

“We pan to a man in the corner. He’s NOT IMPORTANT. Forget him. No, I’m kidding. He’s the villain.”

It’s cheeky and totally rule-breaking, but it rocks. Black’s asides make reading his scripts a pleasure while keeping everything cinematic and visual. If you don’t get your script read, you’re not getting it made. Like Forsyth and Goldman, he shows action, builds tension, and trusts the audience, but he does it with an aspirational swagger.

Same Principles, Different Styles

While Forsyth, Goldman, and Black represent distinct approaches to scribbling, they share common ground:

They show, don’t tell – Whether through detail (Forsyth), lean description (Goldman), or punchy visuals (Black), they dramatize the story without explaining it.

They respect the audience – None of them spoon-feed emotions or motivations. They let readers and viewers infer meaning from what they see.

They create immediacy – Their stories unfold in real time, with action and visuals driving the experience.

Learn From The Masters

From Forsyth, learn to observe with precision. Treat your story like a camera that records without comment.

From Goldman, embrace clean, invisible storytelling. Use action, visuals, and dialogue to reveal everything the audience needs.

From Black, don’t be afraid of style. Inject your voice, but always in service of the cinematic moment.

All three approaches prove that restraint and clarity are powerful tools. Whether you’re writing objective prose or a script dripping with personality, it’s not just what you show. It’s how you show it.

Remember, you’re not facing the blank page alone. You have your scribbler’s toolbox. So, ABS. Always. Be. Scribbling.