Writing Prompt: Show Don't Tell Emotions 1

In an effort to try and get a better handle on the ol' "show don't tell" rule, I started googling some exercises to practice with. Here's the first thing I found, from thewritepractice.com:

Write about the way you or your character feels. Use only action, dialogue or sensory detail. Avoid using any feeling words, like happy, sad, tired.

For this, I took the climax from one of my novels that's still in a rough draft state--it's the story of a pop star in a futuristic city who was conditioned and brainwashed to become the Mayor's wife, but it didn't quite work out and she spearheaded a massive revolution.. 

I might actually use the below scene and try to incorporate it in somehow--compared to the original, I think I captured a better level of drama and intensity. However, I did have to sprinkle in some exposition to make this understandable on its own (thus, there's still a bit of "telling" in this that wouldn't necessarily be in the actual book). 

Like an idiot, I missed the part on the prompt's original webpage that says to avoid inner monologue, exposition, and narrative. All three are present below, so that's a fail on my part (although I'm still a little sketchy on the issue, I thought inner monologue was a form of showing for deeper POVs). The important thing in this exercise was showing the emotion (which, in this case it looks to be all about rage and revenge). Hopefully it's clear, but I may have to do this practice again on different scenes with different emotions to get a better handle on it.

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Across the office, Mayor Quentin Warhol stood erect as a statue and gazed out the window. He didn’t even turn around to face Mary when she kicked the doors open. She shouted, “Hey, a**hole! You miss me?”

He gave no response. Mary asked, “What's the matter, mister Mayor? Can't keep it up anymore?”

He finally turned to face her—his lips stretched wide into a trembling frown, and his eyes watered. Not that Mary cared. He shed no tears when his scientists strapped her to their machines, injected her with their mutagens, and changed her inside and out. And where were his tears when his security team beat and violated her into submission? He didn’t even deserve to cry.

Grasping the hilt of her katana, Mary gritted her teeth and seethed. She waited for this moment for so long.

Quentin shouted, “You b*tch! You took my city from me. Turned the people against me!”

“Oh yeah? Cry me a river.” Mary drew the sword out of its sheath, slowly enough to feel the blade sliding against the wood. It would be just as smooth cutting through flesh.

When she flashed the silver blade at him, Quentin’s face turned to stone. “Do you really think killing me will solve anything? You have no idea what your actions have started!”

Mary said nothing. Both her hands gripped the handle, and she brought one leg back, poised to spring her forward. She focused on Quentin’s big head—just one swipe across the neck, and it would all be over.

Quentin held his hands up and stammered, “Think about what you’re doing! If you kill me, Ananke will retaliate.”

The word Ananke evaporated in Mary’s ears. Maybe it was a warning she should have heeded. Or maybe it was a ruse to gain more time. It didn’t matter. Mary waited so long for this moment. Returning to the Mayor’s office was her killer encore, and she would bring down the house.

Pushing off her foot, Mary dashed towards the Mayor and swung her sword.