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?

As my family and I are on a covered wagon trip I won’t be posting today, I will literally be out on the range! Hope to check in next week when we will be in Yellowstone.
Cheers
Clare

– Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Everyone, it seems, is talking about Stieg Larsson and the girl with the tattoo who plays with fire while kicking the hornet’s nest. I just received an e-mail from a friend in which he reports reading that amazon.com sells a Larsson book in one form or another at the rate of one per second. Can that be true? Wouldn’t it be wonderful if it was? And wouldn’t it be wonderful if every person who bought a Larsson book bought and read another book by another author as well? But I digress. I was in a used bookstore on Wednesday and was talking to a clerk when the topic of Larsson came up as it will in bookstores these days. I mentioned other Swedish mystery and thriller authors and his eyebrows went up. I wound up making a list for him. Henning Mankell was on it, of course, as was Hakan Nesser. Both of these worthies had books published long before Larsson even thought about writing his worthy novels. I expanded the list to include Jo Nesbo from Norway, and Arnaldur Indridason from nearby Iceland. At this point, the clerk was crying “uncle” and we made our farewells. I remembered one more addition to the list as I was getting into my car, however, and had to come back into the store and tell him, because it was perhaps the most important of all: Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö.

The names Sjöwall and Wahlöö are probably unknown or forgotten to the majority of crime fiction readers, yet they are best known for writing a series of ten police procedural novels featuring a Swedish homicide detective named Martin Beck who heads up a special homicide division of the Swedish police. The series achieved great critical and (in some cases commercial) acclaim internationally; THE LAUGHING POLICEMAN, the fourth book in the series, found great success in the United States. It won the Edgar Award for Best Novel of 1971, and a film bearing very little resemblance to the novel was made in 1973, with the setting moved from Stockholm to San Francisco. At this point in time arguably more people have heard about the title than have read it, and if they are familiar with it at all it is as the result the film, rather than the book. All of the Beck books, by the way, have been translated to English and remain in print, though only one, THE LOCKED ROOM, is available in e-book form.

The Beck series and Larsson’s Millennium series have some interesting points of commonality. Sjöwall and Wahlöö were in an established common law relationship and openly collaborated on the series; Larsson was in a long-term, committed relationship with Eva Gabrielsson, who may or may not (depending on who you choose to believe, and on what day) have made a substantial contribution to the books as they exist in their published form. Larsson was an avowed Communist whose political beliefs fueled his journalistic endeavors and which in turn were reflected, though somewhat toned down, in the Millennium trilogy. The Martin Beck series is infused with cultural and social commentary from a socialist viewpoint as well, though, interestingly enough, THE LAUGHING POLICEMAN was in its own way critical of the shortcomings of the Swedish welfare state. For anyone who enjoys well-written police procedural novels, however, the Beck series is worth reading, regardless of one’s politics. If you have read Larsson’s Millennium Trilogy and despair of further volumes ever being published (the last chapter on that topic has yet to be written) you have ten books in the Martin Beck series waiting for your attention, approval, and enjoyment.

One more thing: along with each blogpost I am going to mention what I’m currently reading. Right now that would be THE DOUBLE HUMAN by James O’Neal: Mad Max meets Alien Nation, set in Florida twenty-five years in the future.

Hello, Killzoners. Please forgive me for abandoning my post this week, but vacation calls. See you next Friday.

–John