This is part two of a three part series. For part one, click here. Too Many Info Dumps & Flashbacks
Let's start by defining both terms. The “info dump” is so prevalent that it has its own entry in the English Oxford Living Dictionary. They define it as: "a very large amount of information supplied all at once, especially as background information in a narrative." Its kissing cousin is the flashback, defined as, "a device in the narrative of a motion picture, novel, etc., by which an event or scene taking place before the present time in the narrative is inserted into the chronological structure of the work." And I *loved* these two devices in my first novel manuscript. When I wasn't writing scenes without any desires or obstacles, I was info dumping and flashback-ing like that was the only way to write. In chapter four, my protagonist wakes up and--get ready for this--looks at the carpet, giving her flashbacks for three pages. But that's not the worst offender. Chapter five is literally all flashback, without any pretense of a present scene. It begins with, "Lena met Brandon Marino the first day she moved into the dorms" and continues to tell their origin story for seven single-spaced pages. I understand why I did this. Flashbacks and info dumps feel like telling a story: you have a beginning, middle, and end to the flashback. Or the info dump gives information that the reader wants to know, right? Mostly wrong. But first, there are a couple exceptions-- Some genres work fine with info dumps & flashbacks. Humorous novels or novels with a quirky omniscient narrator can include info dumps or flashbacks that work. Young Middle Grade novels may also benefit from an info dump at the start of the story, to give the young reader a sense of context. Info dumps and flashbacks are also 100% okay, and even useful, in first drafts, because you're building the character's worlds and their rich backstory. Even though I was being judgmental about the number of flashbacks I wrote into my story, I'm also impressed by how deeply I dove into this character's history. For a second draft, knowing that information about her would be useful. This brings me to my first piece of advice: Trust yourself to sprinkle in relevant backstory. If you have rich backstory, you'll absolutely be able to layer it into your narration. It will come up during your scenes full of desires, obstacles, and actions. Pepper it in, but don't over season. Let's take the line referenced above: "Lena met Brandon Marino the first day she moved into the dorms." This is an important piece of backstory, but the way it's told (1) drags us out of the present moment (2) lands us into squarely into authorial intrusion** territory and (3) is the dreaded telling***. It also doesn't tell us that much, which is why I launched into seven pages of explaining their past. How can it be layered into the present story? How about this: "Her husband lumbered into the room, hair askance, smelling of stale whiskey and cigarettes--a far cry from the fresh-faced young man she'd met her first day in the dorms." Here we're staying in the present narration, while Lena remembers what he was like back then. The piece of information about their meeting is so much more powerful now because the past is in context of the present. It means so much more that Brandon was fresh-faced then because he sure isn't now. But the work isn't done yet. The temptation of old-writer-me would be to start retelling their meeting right after the above sentence. Old writer me would have continued: "When she had walked down the hall she had heard a familiar melody booming out into the hall. She'd popped her head into Brandon’s room, where Brandon and his roommate were tangled in a mess of wires, setting up their sound system. 'Built to Spill – Carry the Zero?' she'd asked. 'You got it,' Brandon had replied." We've delved into the past again, with no relevance to the present moment. Instead of narrating a past scene via a flashback, it'd be stronger to have Built to Spill's song playing some time during the novel, and then give Lena visceral memories of Brandon in the past moment (and compare it to the present). Make your own opportunities to include important moments from the past. My second piece of advice is related to info dumps: Trust your readers to understand your story without info dumps Your readers don't need every aspect of the scene and backstory spelled out for them right away. They are smart. They can piece your ideas together, and will enjoy it a heck of a lot more than being told everything at once. Don't believe me? Hold on tight, you're about to get info-dumped: "Noelle was free that night and would love to have dinner with Lena. Lena heard this news, relieved, for her friendship with Noelle had been waning lately. Noelle took pride in her ambitious and successful collection of friends. But since the passing of Lena's parents almost two years before, she had not been able to hold a steady job and was currently unemployed–a fact unknown among her friends and acquaintances, as well as her husband." What's wrong with this scene? First, it's all telling. The narrator lets drop a juicy piece of information here--Lena is unemployed but is hiding it from all her friends and even her husband. But it's not powerful at all; our feeling hardly registers on the feel-o-meter because it was simply told to us. When I wrote this passage, I must have been thinking that I needed to set up the context of the meeting so that my reader could understand it. But of course a reader could understand the stakes of this meeting without being told up front. Instead, that piece of information could be more impactful if it was layered into their hangout, through showing. Maybe something like this: "Noelle asked, 'How's work going?' Lena froze. Why hadn't she prepared an answer? Of course Noelle would ask about her job; it was Noelle. Which lie was she on now? The jewelry importing business? Or had she taken a freelance editing job?" The entire scene could be a slow increase of anxiety while Lena dances around her lies to Noelle, scoring multiple points on the feel-o-meter. Then imagine Lena going home and having a similar conversation with her husband. Only then does the reader realize that she's lying to her husband, too. Minds will be blown. Breadcrumb your info. Your readers will thank you. **Authorial intrusion: meaning, the reader is taken out of the narrative because they feel the author's voice barging in, instead of the protagonist's narration carrying the story. If you're thinking about the author writing the book instead of being immersed in the world of the story, this is probably authorial intrusion. ***Telling: from the overworn but relevant advice, "show don't tell". Here are three articles on the subject: http://thewritepractice.com/show-dont-tell/ www.quickanddirtytips.com/education/grammar/show-dont-tell www.newyorker.com/magazine/2017/06/05/show-dont-tell Stay tuned for Part Three: Being Nice to Your Protagonist
0 Comments
Your comment will be posted after it is approved.
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWynn Bishop is a sometime-resident of San Francisco. She's a lover of extra-dark chocolate, indie electronica, minimalism, and a damn good book. ArchivesCategories |