FLASHBACKS

How to Bring Background into the Foreground

I stole this title from Sol Stein’s Stein on Writing, a book he wrote and published in 1995. I love this book. I think a lot of writers of reference books could learn something extremely important from Sol Stein: Get to the point!

Stein doesn’t waste time with a bunch of nothing filling up the pages. He explains the point of his delivery, gives you an example of the bad and right way to write, and moves on to the next problematic issue. The book is 308 pages long, and that includes four pages of a Final Word and six pages of a Glossary.

I’m here today to discuss how to make your background sound like it’s happening in the present. And I have Sol Stein to thank for all that I’ve learned.

People get hung up on backstory. Too many writers feel like they must use “had” in every line to convey to their readers that they are speaking of the past. What they don’t understand is that they are boring their readers. And you know what readers do when they are bored with a book?

They yawn.

They fall asleep.

If pushed to the limit, they will place the book on a shelf.

And in a worst-case scenario, they will throw the book in the trash.

Ouch!

That is not on your mind when you spend hours sitting at your computer pounding the keys to finish your book.

You want people to enjoy the read. And most of all, you want readers to be so excited about the read that they’ll spread the word by writing a favorable book review.

But I must admit, habits die hard.

It’s easier to write “had” when we’re recapping the past.

But here’s another thing writers tend to forget. We are pushing our readers out of the story; completely excluding them when we use “had” so repetitively. You see, “had” is redundant when used too often. And there’s nothing about its use that helps a writer create an active scene. And if your scene isn’t active, your reader inevitably becomes an outsider. They are not immersed in the story because they are being “told” what is going on, not experiencing what’s going on.

Now, what do I mean exactly when I say the reader isn’t immersed in the story?

I mean, you as the writer, are “telling” your readers what’s happening rather than helping them participate in the story. You are not using strong verbs to help your readers relate to your characters’ feelings and what they are going through.

Still don’t get it?

Let me show you.

Example:

Caroline is beautiful. She’s always been pretty.

Explanation: In the sentence above, I just told you something about Caroline. She’s beautiful. She’s always been pretty.

When a writer creates sentences like this, one of the first things a reader is looking for next is an explanation that will define beauty from the beholder’s eyes. Beauty means different things to different people, so the reader wants to know what is it about Caroline that makes her beauty so special. The same can be said about pretty. And if we compare beautyto pretty, we’ll find ourselves tied in knots.

The reader may never be able to explain to a writer what’s missing. After all, they are readers, not writers. But writers are also readers and we know what’s missing when we read a book. There’s a sense of loss that overcomes a reader if the writer doesn’t explain the missing pieces, or doesn’t answer the unanswered questions.

It is our responsibility as a writer to give the reader what they hunger for, whether they realize why they are hungry or not.

Let me try to show you what the reader needs to understand what the character means by beauty or pretty.

A Better Example:

The smooth, oval shape of Caroline’s face didn’t have a trace of discoloration. Her sumptuous, full lips begged for a kiss. But it was her lashes that won Dillon over, feathering toward him and teasing him to come closer, to get down on one knee to propose, though he met her only an hour ago.

When you begin to write your manuscript, you are doing all you can to just get your manuscript on paper, to get all your thoughts down. The first draft is not the time to worry about such things as backstory.

Once your story is down on paper and you’ve come to the end, it’s during your later drafts that you want to concentrate on how your backstory comes across.

Backstory Example:

I remember when my boss had called me into his office and had said, “Sit down.” He had remained standing. In those days I was like a new army recruit. I had taken everything said to me as an order. I hadn’t wanted to sit down with him looming over me. (Stein on Writing, p.145)

As you can see, there are five “had” in the paragraph above. This is poor writing, lazy writing. I’m of the opinion that once you’ve established something is taking place in the past, you only need to use “had” once, or perhaps not at all. After using “had” once, write everything else as if it’s happening now, in the present. When it’s time to return to the present day in the novel, open the beginning paragraph with words like “now” or “Dillon shook the thought and continued on with …”

So, how can you improve on the Backstory Example above?

A Better Example:

Not too many years ago, my boss called me in his office and said, “Sit down, Dillon.” I remained standing. In those days, everything seemed like an order to me. I was a new recruit, green behind the ears, afraid a school principal would report me to Mother.

The first Backstory Example comes directly for Stein on Writing. The corrective version is partially my own concoction.

There are a couple of things I want you to notice in the “Better Example” version.

1. The writer is not anchored to “had.” Without repetitive use of the word, the writer is free to be as creative as he wants when writing about the past.

2. Notice all the new information the reader receives. They discover things about Dillon that they did not see in the previous version. They get to envision a new recruit being green behind the ears, that he feels like a boy all over again who may have been afraid to answer to his Mother.

3. Everything mentioned in #2 above, helps the reader make a connection to Dillon. They can relate to being sent to the principal’s office, they can relate to being green behind the ears and probably teased because of it, and they get to see that Dillon wants to do what’s right (remain standing out of respect).

There is so much more that can be added to this backstory, but that will depend on the type of story you’re writing, and how much you want to delve into Dillon’s past at this point.

There is absolutely no reason why we as writers need to fill our prose with words that don’t do anything but clutter our writing and make it sluggish.

“Had” isn’t a bad word. It’s necessary. It’s the repetitive use that makes it distasteful. And keep that in mind about any word you use repetitively. We, by our very profession, are perfectionists. Writers are always looking for new ways to reinvent the wheel. One way to do that is to strive for clarity. To give your readers a clearer picture of what’s going on behind the scenes with your characters, we must unpackage these make-believe souls and unveil what makes them tick. In the Better Backstory version, you got to see what makes Dillon tick. He’s respectful. He follows the rules. He definitely has an affection and respect for his mother.

Backstory is an excellent place to unpeel the complex layers of your characters. Doing it in small doses creates a wonderful tease and brews tension. Creating backstories that feel like they are happening now is a wonderful opportunity to breeze your reader through a torrid past and make them feel like they just entered a brand new world. They don’t feel the drudgery and sluggishness of all the “had” that have gone by.

Habits die hard. I know. I’ve spent years perfecting the art of backstory. I still struggle with it. But I’ve tackled this issue long enough to know that if I stick with it and drench myself into a world that is happening before my eyes, and transfer it from my brain to the paper, my readers will forget they are reading about a past and feel totally immersed in a present that happened long ago. And believe me, my readers will thank me for the experience.

So, don’t avoid the stormy “had.” Stand in the rain of a backstory and wield your words around until you see daylight.

Then, sit back and pat yourself on the shoulder once you’ve transformed every “had” in every paragraph into an activepresent-day story.

Written by Donna B. Comeaux

Author, Breathe for Me

Need a critique partner, email me. Write Stuff is a critique group for romance writers.