#1 : Sam was tired.
Dark circles accented his face, eyes half shut and his head nodding so gently towards his chest. Once in a while he'd bring his head back up only for it to drop once more.
#2: The car is old.
Rust stained the cars rim, tainted from years of mistreatment by the summer back roads of Pennsylvania.The Mud streaked the body and undercarriage sputtered down the road, nothing the owner did could restore it to it's once proud and perfect prime.
I can't come up with anything at the moment for grandma.
Show Don't Tell Intermediate:
#1 The Room was always a mess.
No matter how many times their mother reprimanded them, it never seemed to change. Books strewn about the carpet, laying forgotten, empty cups and towels in heaps on the floor. Their gym socks thrown about on top of dressers and even on the curtain rod. Disappointed would be an understatement. One foot after the other she stormed over, arms swinging to and fro with the tempo of her emotions.
#2 Gary Didn't Like Dogs
His heart pounded against his chest ready to rip out of his ribcage and start dancing an Irish jig in front of him. Saliva coated the inside of his mouth, his tongue dragging across the flesh attempting to sooth the tightness in the middle of his stomach. It was only a chihuahua, so why did he look at it and think it was going to devour him skin and bone. "D-Don't come close to me." An almost feral growl left his lips. Dogs. Why dogs?
#3 The storm was approaching.
Wind howled from all directions as the sky took on an eerie glow of flashes of light. The rumble of thunder could be heard as the claps of light slammed the ground with the ferocity of a thousand horses. All around trees swayed in the wind, an owl hooted once before taking flight and vacating the premises. The miraculous light show and sound of hooves smashing on the ground became less drawn out, soon becoming almost instant as the storm wheeled it's nasty head and the sky opened up to pour the heavens down among unsuspecting victims in Hillsborough.
Advanced Show don't Tell
#1 He knew nothing about writing.
Pens or a pencil and paper, or a keyboard. It couldn't be that hard. That's all it took to be a writer right? He looked between his pen and the paper under his hand wishing he'd paid attention in his classes. What was a noun, why couldn't he remember anything that had to do with the project at hand? The pen tapped nervously up and down in his hand creating a simple musical tune that echoed loudly in his thoughts. He lifts the pen to his lips, tasting the metalic ball and ink to go with it. His tongue stuck out and a sound accompanied the distaste of what he'd accidentally done. "That was disgusting...." Shaking his head he glanced back down at the paper. What was writing, why did it matter? Couldn't he just fail his English class?
#2 I was sure something unusual was happening down the street.
There were way too many cars on that block, like ants on a food trail lined up in perfect fashion. Black cars, tinted windows, hardly any noise coming from the usually busy neighborhood. If anything, the silence only created more questions. Night was falling over the block and still none of the cars left, or entered for that matter. The eerie silence coiled my spine as my eyes scanned each tire and rim, even the license plates. My eyebrows furrowed, and my eyes squinted to make out the writing on the chrome plates. All I could read was that they were government plates. My skin turned into little bumps, raising lightly to pick up the cool air. A shiver coiled my back as I leaned forward a little, watching curiously. One by one large black bags were slowly coming out of the house. At this point I decided I'd had enough stargazing for one night, maybe it was time to retire and forget what was going on down at my neighbors house.
#3 The irate customer wanted to see the manager.
Coffee dripped like a waterfall off the cheap leather at the dinner, beside it the victim who just so happened to catch about half of it in it's momentum to the floor. Beside the table stood a boy holding a tan tray in front of him like a shield as if it would somehow keep him safe. His body pulled in, knees together, feet apart, one side of his lip pulled between his teeth. He had just dumped an entire cup of hot coffee on the man sitting there. Not only was the man drenched but the look on his face told the boy that things were about to get messy. As if a volcano was brewing in the mans head, the boy watched his face scrunch up, lips furrow, hands throw out to his sides as he shot up from the bench. The moment happened in slow motion, flecks of splashed misplaced coffee thrown across the table and booth behind the man. The boy knew why he had gotten up, looking down, his feelings weighing down on him like a ton of bricks. "S-Sorry...Sir."
"You're sorry?" The man bellowed, easily catching the attention of every single person in the diner. This just wasn't his day. The man wanted nothing more than to pummel the younger into dust but instead of getting himself arrested he steeled his nerves, tightened his jaw and narrowed his eyes storming past the boy to the counter where a man in more formal attire and sporting a special badge stood.
I'm an aspiring author, attempting to harness the tools of my trade and learn the family secrets to becoming a better writer and published author. Please, do give me any sort of criticism and teach me your ways. I am going to take all of your classes. Thank you !~