My recent reading has hammered it in: Backstory–a word my spellchecker hates (though it doesn’t have a problem with “spellchecker”)…I swear; it’s like being edited by a 6th grader with OCD–is absolutely crucial. I’ve known this for a long time, but I’m sort of obsessing about it, now, as I prepare for this new book. I see backstory everywhere in great writing, and it makes all the difference.
You’ve probably heard it: “Your characters aren’t born on Page One.” Meaning, our characters need a history, a reason to be the way they are, where they are, and with whom they are. Lately, I’ve also realized that this rule isn’t just for characters. Places and sometimes even objects need a backstory. The town they live in, that rocking chair in the corner, that leather-bound book there on the shelf, that old pitcher with the crack in it, the dog asleep in the corner…anything can benefit from a backstory. Problem is, I can’t put all that backstory in a book.
New writers often seem to think that, if something is not in the book, it’s not important. This may well be true, but with backstory, this attitude can lead to two major mistakes: putting backstory in the book, and not putting backstory in the book.
Not putting backstory in the book is just as bad as not having any at all. It doesn’t matter how much backstory is there in my head, if it never makes it to the page, it never makes it to my reader. Oh, I’ve heard all the artsy-fartsy types (my spellchecker doesn’t like “artsy-fartsy” either) drone on about how, even though it’s not on the page, it informs the page, and I say “bosh.” It only informs me, and unless I put something about it on the page, it’ll never make it to my reader.
But putting backstory in the book can be just as bad, because the tendency is to write everything chronologically. If I start my tale by relating all that backstory, then I’ve started my tale before the real story actually begins, and that’s…well, it’s going to be boring. I mean, it’s backstory, not story-story; it’s important to what’s going on, but it’s not what actually is going on.
As clear as is the summer’s sun, I presume? Let me rephrase.
I can’t start a story with Timmy falling down the well when he was six years old (which gives him a mortal fear of small places) and then cut to the adult Tim and have him get stuck in an elevator, which causes him to faint. Where’s the tension in that? The reader will see it coming a mile away.
Just as bad is a story where adult Tim gets stuck in an elevator and faints, with no explanation whatsoever.
So, I need to find a happy medium. How much of that backstory is important to my story-story? It’s important that he has claustrophobia…okay, so I need to show him being afraid of that enclosed space, but is it important that he acquired this phobia from the incident at the well? Is it important that he’s had this phobia since he was six? Is it important that his father pushed him down the well?
The story will dictate that, but unless I have all the backstory ready to go, how can I possibly put it into the book?
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[…] To the contrary, his prose is clear, but full of detail, full of depth, and (harkening back to my one recent revelation) full of history and […]
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Not directly related, but it made me think of it… that’s what revisions are for. I mean, I usually discover my character as I’m going, I learn about them, their quirks, their ‘backstory’ as I write the story. So that’s where it’s important for me to go back and lace the various little hints or histories into the existing narrative as it fits.
As a writer, one of the best things to ever happen was to read the unpublished drafts of Lord of the Rings, to see how *utterly* parts of that story changed from its original, and to feel a sense of relief that I really didn’t have to write some perfect epic straight away, I could write mediocre drivel at first, then polish the tar out of it until I had the story I wanted. 🙂
I think what you did with Cast in Stone is a great illustration not just of fixing a story, but of showing that the story doesn’t need to be perfect the first time. Don’t give up on it just because it lacks something, go back and fix it!
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I understand your point, Eliza, and for your style/method of writing, you probably can’t have a lot of backstory as you begin. Not having it at the start, though, is sort of like that old writer’s joke: “I’ve finished the first draft! Now I just have to go back and add all the symbolism!” How much harder is it to feather that all in, after the fact?
I’m an “outliner” by method, so having a fairly detailed backstory is easier for me, but naturally that doesn’t mean I get it perfect the first time. Hemingway was right. “The first draft of anything is shit.” We need to love those first drafts anyway, treat them like that rough-cut block of marble, and coax the story out.
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Oh I didn’t mean to say I have *no* backstory when I start. I just meant a lot of little details will often come out as I go. Yes, it is harder to feather in certain things once the structure has already been placed, but hey, no one ever said re-writes were easy! 🙂
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Rewrites. Also known as pruning the forest without being able to see the trees. I hate rewrites. But they are sooooo necessary.
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This is something I really struggle with. In my head, I know every single thing that has happened and will happen to my characters, from the time she laughed and milk came out of her nose she was eight to the fact that she will die when she is very old from her bee allergy. I don’t make it up on purpose, that’s just who they are and I know it. Sometimes I have a hard time remembering that I don’t need to mention her bee allergy because my readers are only going to know her until she is in her thirties.
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That’s a great gift, Julie! Backstory is something I’m still learning how to bring in at the right times and amounts. I certainly don’t have it all figured out as I start the story, but it’s become clear that I do need to have more.
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