I first met Victoria Mixon through blogging friend and fellow writer Roz Morris, when she and Victoria did a wonderful series of editorial talks. I was hooked right away. Not only were they a heck of a lot of fun, but they were also exceedingly informative on the craft of writing.
Just yesterday, Victoria released her book, The Art and Craft of Story, and I’m thrilled to have a sample chapter on my blog today that deals with a topic that always leaves me with more questions than answers: How to use backstory (or, as I like to think of it: Avoiding the dreaded info dump!)
My thanks to you for sharing this, Victoria!
And now, without further ado…
Backstory
What is it? Why is it important? And what on earth are we supposed to do with that stuff?
As little as humanly possible.
It’s true that Backstory plays a part in proper plot structure. Sometimes we need a little illumination from behind the curtain. A little light filtering through the lace, highlighting the pattern as it begins to move. However, extra information is awkward, it requires its own special techniques, and the reader prefers to get that information the way they get almost everything else these days—on the fly.
So before we start throwing on the flood lamps and ripping holes in the fabric of our story, we must spend a good long time spelling out all that information in great detail in our notes and identifying ways to layer it into our characters’ interactions and adventures.
The reason Backstory is so often confused with exposition is that they share a lot in common:
• lack of momentum
• lack of in-the-moment excitement
• lack of mystery
You see? All lacks. Not a good quality in storytelling technique.
Everything we put into a story must add to the forward momentum of our plot. It must be about getting our characters from point (x1,y1,z1) to point (xn,yn,zn) with as much velocity as humanly possible. We are here to make our characters’ lives a hellbent-for-leather ride. When we stop the action in order to explain what’s gone before or what’s going on now—to point at the curtains—we throw our reader right into the dashboard. They don’t like that. They like their hair flying straight back off their heads.
Our job with Backstory is to make sure it does not throw our reader into the dashboard.
At the same time, everything we put into a story must serve the purposes of pacing. Most of what readers want out of pacing is increasing tension to make previous excitement look like the slow part laying the groundwork for what’s really electrifying.
Now, there are subtle undulations that we, the writers, know we’ve layered into this increasing tension. But the reader is feeling the pulsing increase in pressure of G’s that—if all goes well—is going to eventually implode on them, blasting them into a parallel universe. When we stop adding significant description, action, and dialog to keep that pressure stimulating, soothing, stimulating in carefully-modulated doses—when we lift the G’s to pause and discourse on general stuff—it feels weak. And our reader is likely to lurch out of our grip and fall like a lump back to earth while they’re still under the sway of gravity.
Our job with Backstory is to make sure it keeps our reader forever entirely engaged in the thrilling experience of the story, heading into orbit.
Finally, our story must always be about launching our reader out of our imagination and into their own, the curiosity that impels them out into the ether. When we drag the story backward with Backstory or exposition, we’re dragging the reader’s attention back to us. And they don’t want to pay attention to us. Then want to pay attention to themself, to their own experience of this mysterious, rocketing ride through the wilds of the imagination.
Our job with Backstory is to make sure our reader is always wholly engaged in exploring our fictional landscape, completely forgetting there’s a human being behind it all typing frantically away.
Ray Bradbury helped bring dark literary (pre-‘edgy’ ‘edgy’) fantasy and sci-fi to the forefront of modern fiction through his meticulous, unerring instinct for pure scene without a speck of exposition. And in “The Dwarf,” the first story in his literary masterpiece collection The October Country, Bradbury teaches us exactly how to handle Backstory.
Instead of telling us in exposition what the Dwarf has done before his story’s Hook, Bradbury shows the owner of the carnival Mirror Maze telling the protagonist, innocent Aimee, how the Dwarf has come to him more than once in the past asking about the price of his funhouse mirrors.
Bradbury places this Backstory exactly right, directly between the Hook and Conflict #1, and he ties it back into the Hook by introducing the conversation through Aimee’s observation that the Dwarf almost came up to them after he’d been inside the Mirror Maze, almost asked something he just couldn’t bring himself to ask.
This gives the owner of the Mirror Maze the opportunity to tell the story of the other times the Dwarf has come to him and almost asked where he could buy such a mirror, something he couldn’t quite, in the end, bring himself to ask.
That’s Backstory with forward momentum, ominous tingling, and ever deeper curiosity about Bradbury’s special melancholy country of inner torment.
And it’s only what’s absolutely necessary.
We must winnow our Backstory down to only that most essential information the reader simply has to have as they venture into our story, layering as much of that as possible into the process of our characters getting to know each other, and casting what’s left (if anything) into either very brief exposition or—better—thoroughly vivid flashback scenes.
We put those flashback scenes into Chapter Two or Three, after the Hook, before we get too deep into Conflict #1.
But only what’s absolutely necessary.
Victoria Mixon has been a writer and editor for thirty years and is the creator A. Victoria Mixon, Editor, one of the Top 10 Blogs for Writers. She is the author of The Art & Craft of Fiction: A Practitioner’s Manual and the recently-released The Art & Craft of Story: 2nd Practitioner’s Manual, as well as co-author of Children and the Internet: A Zen Guide for Parents and Educators, published by Prentice Hall, for which she is listed in the Who’s Who of America. She spends a lot of time horsing around on Google+ and Twitter.
erika … thanks for sharing this. GOOD information for all writers, regardless of their level of expertise or involvement. i will keep a look out for more.
and …
tuesday is getting closer and closer !!
You bet, Tom. As I said in the intro, I always struggle with how to blend backstory without it sending up a smoke signal warning of that info dump…
Thank you, Tom! I work with so many aspiring writers, and yet my friends are accomplished writers with many years under their belts, so I have to be able to write for them, too. That’s where we get to the bedrock of writing, which is that the deepest truths apply to everyone, at all levels. We’re all in this together!
Thanks for introducing me to Ms. Mixon, Erika!
Absolutely, Teri! I always come away from her posts with good information on everything from plotting to character to editing and everything in between.
You two are so kind. Lovely to meet you, Teri. 🙂
“We put those flashback scenes into Chapter Two or Three, after the Hook, before we get too deep into Conflict #1.
But only what’s absolutely necessary.”
Perfect. Thank you.
Thank you, Mollie! It took me a long time to get through all the research that proved this is how the greats have always done it. But once you realize. . .wow! You see how the jump from Hook to Backstory to Conflict #1 can create an intriguing series of hook-hook-hook that reels the reader in just like a fish.
Thank you for hosting me, Erika!
And good luck with your launch–having just survived the excitement of my own, I know what you’re going through. Is all your hair standing on end yet? 🙂
Here’s to this one and many more!
Thank YOU for sharing your wisdom with us all, Victoria!
And congratulations on your recent release–we are all looking forward to reading more!
Very timely information about backstory as I set out to revise a draft! Thank you, Erika & Victoria!
So glad, Julia!
Oy! You’re into revision. Congratulations, Julia! Now you’re getting into the heart of the work.
Very well said! Backstory is hard to master. I’m going to include a link to this piece in my next post for The Writers’ Salon.
That’s super, Jackie–I appreciate it! Backstory is such a hard subject to master–for me, one of the hardest next to plotting, I’d say.
Thank you, Jackie! I’ll look forward to your post. Backstory is one of the most misunderstood tools in the writer’s toolbox. And yet it is very useful, and it can be extremely powerful when it’s used properly. Like all of the more complex tools–fabulous with just the right deft handling.
[…] Please join us on Erika’s blog for: Backstory—what it is, why it’s important, what on earth we’re supposed to do with…. […]
I’m also a big fan of Roz and Victoria’s chats, Erika. Thanks for sharing this excerpt!
You’re most welcome, dear! Hope we can catch up soon–miss your blog humor and YOU.
You’re very welcome, Amanda! I hope you caught this last chat–Roz and I had a wonderful talk about meaning and life and mystery.
Nice to meet you, Erika.
Thanks for the excerpt. I sometimes feel like I follow Victoria and Roz around like puppy, hoping for little treats like this. Eventually, their books will make it off my Amazon wish list and into my hands. FYI, I found a link to your blog through the Amazon.com twitter roll of Ms. Mixon’s tweets. How about that for social networking!
Hi Daniel! How about that, indeed? Roz and Victoria are VERY follow-worthy. They always have incredibly informative (not to mention just plain fun) posts. This was a treat, for sure!
🙂
Daniel, I’m laughing at your characterization of yourself as a puppy. We will have to give you your own puppy tiara.
Thank you for letting us know how you got here–that’s the kind of information that’s so helpful, but I always forget to ask.
Thank you, Erika, for this introduction to a valuable source of knowledge on writing. I adore books on craft. And I’ve saved Victoria’s website so I can check it out.
Victoria: Your cover is just beautiful. Its warm tones make one want to pick up and hold this book. I like the font you chose too. Very pretty. And your Backstory chapter was right on the mark, IMHO.
Wonderful, supportive post, Erika!
Thank you, Cynthia. You’re very kind. That’s my actual office. That cat is my actual supervisor. (He’s very strict.) 🙂
I’m so please that cover communicates how I feel about this beloved craft.
I admit some consternation with the concept of ‘chapters’. What constitutes a chapter is supposed to be complete scenes, right?
“We put those flashback scenes into Chapter Two or Three, after the Hook, before we get too deep into Conflict #1.
Do you mean scenes? Or is there a specific length of story that needs to precede an interlude of backstory? (I personally hate it when backstory is added that far into a story, because my mind picks it out AS backstory, not part OF the story). I like to start from square one. I’m afraid that starting there means any editor would just say “chop that first part off”, thinking all flashback/backstory is ‘bad’.
I’m wondering is why the Hook can’t be attached to backstory. I mean it should be attached, but why not reverse what you’re saying and lend some background before the hook?
By backstory I don’t specifically mean exposition- I can see a flashback that’s part of a scene, and that is moving the story forward.
Maybe this is more than one issue. I hope I’m making sense.
Thanks!
Excellent questions, illoura!
Yeah, I mean chapters, not scenes. Your chapters can be anything you want, although these days experimenting with length can push you to the fringe of what readers want to read.
You won’t find anybody out there saying, “Give me x number of words before you give me any backstory.” What they want to see is the hook, hook, hook of: something exciting! whoa–another time & place! whoa–back to the excitement! They don’t care how you do it, so long as you understand the rhythm.
An editor won’t say, “chop that first part off,” unless it is, in fact, unnecessary or in some way interfering with the progress of the story. (This is what happens with a (whole lot of Backstory.) Assuming, though, that the Backstory is essential, an editor more likely to simply advise you to put it after the Hook.
The reason you don’t put Backstory first is that readers don’t want to read Backstory on story they don’t yet care about. That’s what the Hook is for. To make them care.
Oh this makes so much sense! I was thinking ‘hook’ as a concept seemed a bit commercial, like the way they push a ‘hook’ in any kind of article you read. Those are not the same, but the word is the same so I found it confusing. Making you care about the story or character first makes so much more sense, and I thank you for clarifying.
(Whew dodged a bullet – and lot of rewriting!)
[…] more on the art and craft of story? Check Erika’s guest blogger Victoria Mixon. And if you like to write at night on your laptop, you might want to adjust your screen […]
“When we stop the action in order to explain what’s gone before or what’s going on now—to point at the curtains—we throw our reader right into the dashboard. They don’t like that. They like their hair flying straight back off their heads.” What a poetic way to describe backstory and how to avoid it! Thank you, Victoria (and, of course, Erika), for sharing this; I am interested in reading this book!