I am showing you, not telling.

Telling: It was really hard.

Showing: Beads of sweat dotted my forehead like stars in the night sky. My face was a brilliant hue. My eyes were scrunched up in concentration, resulting in a wrinkle etched upon my brow line. I frowned as a few stray wisps of hair managed to escape the prison that was my headband. My shaky hand slipped and I let out a much exasperated sigh. Never before had opening a pickle jar been so troublesome.


Telling: I was surprised

Showing: I couldn't believe it. Acid bubbled in my stomach, threatening to rise. My heart was beating as fast as a hummingbird's wings, and I was frightened that it might burst. I could hear the faint whir of blod rushing to my head. A million thoughts flew through my mind as I desperately tried to grasp on to what was happening. Finally, one thought stuck and shouted at me like a siren, "She's not coming back!"