By John Ramsey Miller

I’ve been reading Patricia Highsmith’s “Ripley” novels of late. They were billed as Psychological Thrillers when they were being published, although I read very little of the element of suspense in them. They are rife with black humor. Tom Ripley’s kills are leisurely affairs, and he is hardly even worthy of being labeled psychopathic when measured against today’s villains. Tom Ripley is the amoral and sociopathic protagonist in the series. He is morally and ethically challenged. He is a murderer. He never kills for pleasure, but he will commit a murder for financial gain, or due to a threat to his self-image or one that could alter his status. To his credit, he doesn’t kill every threat that crosses his path, just the more serious ones and only when circumstances are convenient. And this reader pulls for him to kill those threats and I want him to get away clean and to prosper. Having Tom as the protagonist was quite a feat for a book published in the 1950s, not so much when the last one published in the early 90s. By then ass-bite protagonists and thrillers were becoming a dime a dozen.

When Patricia was writing Strangers on a Train (which became a successful Hitchcock film) and other novels and short stories her work was considered low art–crime fiction in the United States, but she was fully appreciated in Europe and put in the ranks of Conrad, Kafka, Dostoevsky, and Camus. In her lifetime she was appreciated but she had to live in Europe to be so.

I enjoy the pacing in her books, her humor, the sudden violence, its aftermath. Tom Ripley is not so good as the cops are incompetent and evidence is rarely gathered or put together. The books are a great relaxing read and very entertaining. Sometimes I just want to read something in 2/4 time.

By John Gilstrap

At the Midwest Writers Conference a couple of weeks ago, I critiqued ten manuscripts for conference attendees. As is frequently the case when I do these things, I learn new things about writing.

One of the more intriguing manuscripts I looked at was a historical mystery, set aboard a sailing ship crossing the Atlantic from England to the New World. Through beautiful prose, the author introduced his hero out on the deck, wind in his hair, watching the sunset. Then the author went into pages of data dumping. He told us that the ship was owned by so-and-so, and that it was primarily used for the transport of such-and-such. He told us that the ship had cabins for passengers, and that among the passengers were a carpenter with his wife and four children. The data dump section ended with the author telling us that our hero—we’ll call him Edward—had struck up a friendship with a junior member of the ship’s company—we’ll call him Charles—who taught him some of the basics of navigation.

A problem common to many new writers is the tendency to stop the story to reveal backstory. It’s as if the author has compartmentalized character background from character development, and has trouble bridging the gap. It’s entirely unnecessary. By shifting gears mentally, it’s a simple challenge to use front story to propel backstory. Using the example of the historical mystery, consider this:

Open the chapter with Edward learning navigation from Charles. As Edward learns, so do we. Then, in the middle of the lesson, suppose Charles is angered by the sound of children playing on the deck, getting into things that children have no business getting into. He yells at them and sends them on their way back to their father, the carpenter whose passage is partially paid for by performing carpentry on the ship during the voyage.

In this proposed approach, the story continually moves, is continually engaging, and the reader gets to witness events that otherwise would be dumped on them. It’s a win across the board.

I urge every writer (and frequently remind myself) that every scene needs to be about a character. Whatever happens has to happen to someone, and whatever the reader learns should be learned through the filter of the character’s world view. I’ve always believed that it’s the characters’ job to speak to my readers. If I ever find myself doing it directly, I know it’s time to rewrite.

What do y’all think? What are the other ways to subtly reveal backstory?