Scatterings of Yesteryear: Backstory Techniques

Interject. What does that word bring to mind? Interruption? If you think interruption instead of backstory, it will help you avoid extraneous material. By weaving in only crucial details, your final product will resemble a subtle pattern in silk versus a coarse woolen plaid.  

When critique group members use words like “jump” or “awkward,” or say “something’s not working here,” or “needs transition,” the problem may lie in how you handled the backstory of a character or plot. The issue is particularly challenging for beginning writers.

A character’s thoughts that trigger a flashback can work: Bernard looked out at the ocean, and after all those years, remembered the tsunami’s destruction of his village. But as a literary technique, it’s almost a cliché, isn't it? If you are learning to write, use it for now. With experience you'll find better techniques.

Remember background interrupts the story’s flow. Write your thoughts, then cut where you can. For example, Leslie had trouble putting the doggie boots on Ben. The last time she had taken her dog to her uncle’s place, Ben whimpered as Leslie spent hours tweezing burrs from the fur on his lower legs and between the dog’s toes which were bleeding from walking on the barbs. Delete any information not necessary for the story. The doggie boots Leslie put on Ben would protect his feet from the burrs around her uncle’s place. If the reader must know Leslie had to remove burrs the last time, the reader understands removal of burrs is time consuming and a dog would probably whimper. No need to include them unless the details are pertinent to the plot.

Sometimes inner thoughts work. Greg was not saddened by his father’s death because his dad had constantly abused his children. Instead of describing Greg’s treatment, put yourself in Greg’s shoes at his father’s funeral. Greg half smirked at the man in the casket. “Good riddance, Dad. What would you think of being buried without your weapons—your belt, your hard-toed work boots, your hands rolled into knock-down fists?” 

Here a writer tells how two characters met by connecting flowers from the past to the present: Carla Laughed, “Cosmos planted along this fence again. Six years ago a sudden swarm of black hoppers prompted me to knock on Allen’s door. I was afraid those insects would infest the neighborhood.”

Scatter background information as much as possible. Interject details as smoothly as you can, and keep them short. Holding his burger with two hands, Marvin took a deep breath and inhaled his high school hangout. Burgers, fries, and a whiff of chili. He looked straight ahead: the jukebox was missing. Once referenced, the writer can use the jukebox to pepper the story with background details later.

You can frontload crucial information with a prologue. I generally don’t like them. But if that’s the only way you can get your story started, go for it. Maybe you’ll leave it, or maybe you’ll find a way to stitch in threads as you write the body of your work.

My friend, Mike Akins, won a contest with a prologue. I had read it online—poetic, emotional, beautiful. I just had to meet this guy. And that’s the backstory to Dynamic Opinions, our present critique group.

© 2012, Bernice W. Simpson

Balance

Can you relate to this? Everyone agrees you have a good topic and you've put a great spin on it, but it lacks…well, it’s hard to say what exactly. You redo paragraphs your writing group said were long; now the entire selection is choppy. You break up narration with dialogue, only to learn “it doesn’t have a natural feel to it.” The prose is flat in places, and even where the writing is good, your article or story is simply not coming together.

Maybe it lacks what I call journalistic balance. If so, you can learn to balance your writing by examining the works of professional writers. They’re easy to find.  Your local newspaper could be a source, and you can definitely expect to see them in magazines known for their excellence in journalism.

To find examples for this article, I checked the website of one of my favorites: The Smithsonian Magazine. I immediately clicked on “How E.B. White Wove Charlotte’s Web.” What writer can resist a title like that? And the reference to weaving fit this article because a well-woven article will be balanced.

Hopefully the article by Chloe Schama will still be posted when you read this. As a writer, reading her article should be both interesting and entertaining for you. Studying the following three items should not overwhelm you.

·         Opening: Notice the phrase, “porcine encounter.” Without it, Ms. Schama’s opening would have been too wordy and awkward for one sentence. How many of us would have considered using the word porcine?

·         Use of the m-dash: Here it emphasizes the next six words whose contrast to all that follows makes the m-dash still more effective.

·         Transition between the first two paragraphs: Remember that long list of transitional words and phrases you drew up in high school? They are largely absent in Schama’s articles, and that gives her writing a satisfying maturity. What links her first two paragraphs are the words “loss” and “sentiment.”

There is much more to learn about balancing your writing, but effective openings, punctuation, and transitions are good elements to start with.  And speaking of transitions, while you’re at the Smithsonian site, why not read Chloe Schama’s article, Frank Baum, the Man Behind the Curtain? After you’ve read it once, peruse it. Notice how she leads you smoothly from one paragraph to another.

Make a list of your observations. Soon your skill in using transitions will improve. And when you apply your knowledge to the story that wouldn’t come together? Read it and listen to the flow.