Where Meaning Hides When You Stop Explaining

Subtext and Trust

While revising a paragraph under the late afternoon light, I noticed how a single explanatory sentence—the one that defined exactly how my character felt—was actually standing in the way of the reader’s empathy. By removing it, the silence that remained became the bridge.

Trust is the most underrated tool in a writer’s kit. When we explain a character’s grief, we are essentially telling the reader, “Stay there, I’ll bring the meaning to you.” But when we show the grief through a hand hovering too long over a cold kettle, and then we stop writing, we allow the reader to step into the scene and finish the thought themselves.

That participation is where the magic happens. A reader who has to work for the meaning is a reader who is deeply invested. Great writing is often a collaboration between what is on the page and what is in the reader’s memory. If you say everything, you leave no room for them to exist. Delete the most obvious sentence. Let the reader do the work.

The Monroe Minute Delete the most obvious sentence. Let the reader do the work.

Until the next page,
Sloane S. Monroe

Sloane Shay Monroe

I don’t write to idealize love, but to explore it honestly, with emotional precision and depth.