Storytelling versus telling a story

What’s the difference between telling a story and true storytelling? Some might say it’s the difference between reading a grocery list and hearing a tale that lingers in your mind long after the last word. One is simple and straightforward; the other is an art that requires a careful balance of detail and restraint. Telling a story is about stating facts—just the bones of what happened. Storytelling, however, is about breathing life into those bones with vivid imagery, emotion, and tension. It’s the difference between saying, “He was afraid” and showing a character’s hands trembling as shadows creep closer. While I agree that storytelling is a carefully crafted art form, I think it’s sometimes overemphasized. If you research or take classes in storytelling, you’ll quickly find how complex it can be—favoring active voice, strong verbs, and emotional connections with readers. Storytelling can even be formulaic. There are numerous storytelling structures that dictate exactly when to introduce certain elements or events. While these frameworks can help smooth out flaws and are proven methods in movies, they also risk making a story feel mechanical rather than authentic. I value brevity—both in speech and in writing. Where some take ten pages to set a scene, I prefer to do it in one. While this straightforward approach can lack detail, it also avoids the risk of overwhelming the reader with unnecessary description. For instance, I’ve read passages that linger on someone walking by a seaside dock—the amber sun dipping low, light glinting on the water, the creak of wooden planks, and the salty breeze carrying hints of seaweed. While these details can be beautiful, they can also stall the story. Sometimes, a simple line like, “He strode down the dock, the sea breeze tugging at his cloak,” does more to keep readers engaged without slowing the pace too much. Over time, I’ve come to better appreciate the art of storytelling and the power of detail—though it’s still something I’m working to master. When I recently reread my first novel, I couldn’t help but cringe at how much telling I had used instead of showing. Determined to fix it, I went back and rewrote large sections, weaving in more vivid scenes and sensory details. In the end, I republished it as a second edition, and I believe the effort created a stronger story. But this brings me to a dilemma: how much detail is too much? It’s something I still struggle with. In the end, storytelling isn’t a one-size-fits-all craft. Some readers want to savor every detail; others, like me, want the story to move. The real challenge is finding a balance between richness and restraint—enough to paint the scene without drowning the story. Perhaps that balance is the true art of storytelling, one we all keep striving to master.