Since Mondays are devoted to inspiration on JPC Allen Writes, I wanted to share some a delated scene from A Riddle in the Lonesome October and why it ended up being deleted. At the beginning of the novel, Rae’s uncle Hank has a riding accident and the family find him pinned under his horse in a creek. After they rescue Hank, Rae’s dad Mal holds the injured horse’s head out of water while they wait for the vet and the paramedics.

Here’s the scene:

The paramedics lifted the stretcher and carried it to the trail. Uncle Hank’s leg was wrapped in splints of some kind, and an oxygen mask was strapped to his face. He lay still. Absolutely still. That wasn’t normal for anybody, but it was even more awful for someone who got a such a high out of life like Uncle Hank.

My knees wanted to give up again.

“I’m fine, Jeanine. Go.” Wincing, Gram got to her feet. “Rae, can you stay with your dad until that nice Kincaid boy gets back?”

Dad said over his shoulder, “Ma, Rae needs to stay with the boys.” He stuttered each word.

Jeanine, Coral, and Mr. Norris disappeared down the trail with the stretcher.

I swung my flashlight around the pool. “Where is Chris?”

“He took the horses back to Jeanine’s place.” Gram’s sentence was little more than a grunt, and she leaned more heavily on the branch.

Had she thrown out her back leveraging Knight? 

I said, “Are you sure you want to take Coral to the hospital? I could.”

“Yes.” Pressing her lips thin, she looked to Dad. “I just hate to leave you, Mal, alone here when you’re…”

“Dad.” I stepped to the edge of the pool. “Let me hold Knight. I warmed up. It won’t be–“

“No.” He wagged his head. “Go back to the boys.”

The wind had picked up, making the branches creak, although the thick ring of trees around the trail and pool gave us a lot of protection from it.

The stallion hadn’t moved much since I’d come back with the wagon, but when we paused talking, his labored breathing was easy to hear. Laying on a side for so long, even without a badly broken leg, was dangerous for a horse.

“Gram, go ahead.” I rolled up my sweatpants and took off my tennis shoes, socks, coat, and sweatshirt. Tucking two towels and a knit hat under one arm, I stepped into the pool. Even knowing how cold the water was couldn’t prevent me from gasping.

“Rae, what are you doing?” Dad twisted as best he could to look at me.

I didn’t answer until I reached him. “Maybe this will warm you a little until Chris gets here.” I draped the towels around his shoulder and slipped the hat over his head. 

“Thanks, kiddo.” He tried to grin with bluish lips.

I kissed his cheek. It was cold like a window pane in winter. I bit my lip. I didn’t want to leave him either. But I couldn’t ditch my brothers.

“I’ll bring Doc Volmer.” I waded to the bank and climbed out. 

Then grabbing the wagon handle, I raced back to the house for the twenty-seventh time that day. Or night. How late was it? It felt like we’d been living beside the pool for a week.

I slowed down to pass Gram and then ran on.

*****

The reason I deleted it was because readers didn’t need all this detail. The scene was slowing the pace of the story, and not adding much in character development or plotting. So I cut it and jumped ahead in time. I end Chapter 5 with Rae guiding the paramedics and a deputy Chris, who is her friend, to the pool of water where her uncle fell.

We followed the creek through the drizzle. As soon as I saw a speck of light ahead, I shrugged off his coat. “Follow the creek to the light. I’m going back to help Amber and the boys get towels and clothes.”

“Don’t forget to dry yourself.” Chris peered at the pinprick of light along the creek. “You can keep my jacket.”

“I shook my head. “I’ll be dry in ten minutes. You’ll be out in the weather longer.”

“Reluctantly, he took the jacket from me, and reluctantly, I turned away from him and ran back along the trail.”

Then Chapter 6 begins:

“You should call Aunt Carrie for the latest details on Uncle Hank, Walter,” I told my great-grandfather, more than an hour later, on the landline.

I leave out Rae coming back to the pool with dry clothes and towels for the family members who stayed with Hank. Writers are told all the time to “show, don’t tell”, but in this instance, I have Rae tell her great-grandfather in a phone call what happened in the time I skipped, informing readers of what’s going without bogging down the pace with scenes that aren’t needed.

In most novels, you have to slip in a few “tells” rather than “shows” to keep the story moving.

Writers, are there times it’s better to tell not show? Readers, when did you read a passage that was a tell but it was done well? Here are more tips on writing scenes.