Enter Late and Leave Early

Valuable writing advice: enter late and leave early. It applies to scenes, chapters and whole stories. You’re welcome.

You want more? Here we go…

Don’t begin at the Beginning

A common problem in fiction is starting the story/chapter/scene too early and forcing the reader to wade through a whole lot of irrelevant detail and/or backstory. We’re not here to read the protagonist’s backstory in real time. We don’t even need a full and proper introduction; this isn’t regency England. Give us a protagonist, a problem and a hint of the tone, style and genre, then… go!

Starting too early or too far back in the backstory is all too common in story telling. It’s especially prevalent in the fantasy genre; whole chapters of world-building, lore and ancient history, usually in a prologue. Sometimes multiple prologues. Frequently about dead people, years and years ago. All before the story proper gets going. It takes pages and pages before we meet a protagonist.

It doesn’t have to be like that

There are two key questions. Where does the real story start? What’s essential to know on the way in?

Pride and Prejudice (yes, collect a sticker) doesn’t start with a long history of the Bennett family. Austen skips over the birth of the five daughters and their childhoods. She glosses over the writing of legal covenant that leaves them homeless unless one daughter produces a male heir. We get no bird’s-eye view of Longbourne, Netherfield, Meriton or the neighborhood. Austen pitches straight in with Mrs Bennett gossiping about the rich tenant moving into Netherfield. What’s Netherfield? Where is it? No idea. Who are the Bennetts? No idea. Jump on board the mystery train and see where it goes.

A bit of character work sets up the Bennett girls. Almost the next thing is the welcoming ball for the Bingley’s and Darcy. And we’re straight into the arrivals and introductions.

Austen knows how to enter late and fill in the backstory as she goes.

Cut to end title

Austen also knew how to get out early. The last two chapters of Pride and Prejudice race around the principal player’s reactions to the various weddings. There’s no long Happy Ever After epilogue of births and deaths that other family sagas and romances indulge in.

The climax of Lady Catherine’s visit and Darcy’s proposal is the high point of the story. Nothing significant occurs after that except quickly tying a ribbon around the wedding cake. And we’re out.

Austen gets it: enter late and leave early.

Don’t end at the end

The Westerns I grew up on generally have abrupt endings. The end titles cut in with a loud burst of theme music almost as soon as the climactic gunfight is done. Once order is restored, there’s nothing exciting to hang around for.

Shoot the bad guy, kiss the girl, throw a witty one liner and bamm! Closing theme, The End title card, end credits. Leave on a high note. Folks have got a bus to catch. Send them home with pulses racing so they want to come back next week.

They exemplify why conflict is the heart of story. When the conflict ends, the story ends.

Jack Nicholson’s criticism of The Lord of the Rings? “Too many endings.”

Long sprawling epics with large casts present a problem. Authors assume readers want to spend more time with their beloved characters in the afterglow of resolution. Births, marriages and deaths follow.

Austen doesn’t do that. A quick round up of who moved to which house and who visited who. That’s it. We skip over the marriages entirely and leave before the births.

What’s the minimum amount of wrap-up you can get away with?

Romances finish with the Happy Ever After, or the Happy For Now. But how soon after? The proposal? the engagement, the wedding, the starter home, the birth of ‘n’ children? The Ever After part maybe isn’t as interesting as the struggle to get there.

How I almost blew it

The Ghost and the Vipers originally started in the wrong place. It began with the rebel surrender, betrayal, pursuit, Varla’s injury, rescue, meeting with the shaman and his recovery. Three chapters of action with a seen-it-before, not-very-relatable character.

Then I got to Jovanka’s introduction. She’s much more interesting than the grumpy sword-slinger with skills.

I changed point of view character and dumped the first three chapters.

There’s a flash forward that hints at the Promises, Progress and Payoff. Now the opening goes straight into the ill-fated expedition to the Outlands and the action set-piece that introduces Varla as the supporting character.

I don’t begin with Jo’s childhood, telling the Emperor of his death, defeating the assassins, escaping from the capitol, or the journey to the outlands. It’s the anticipated meeting of Jo and Varla battling with bandits. In the wilderness. On the run. She’s trying to find him by magical means. How? Why?

The immediate problem is escape and survival. The Vipers are out there. The Horse Clans are out there. There’s only hints of Jo and Varla’s backstories and trauma. Everything else can wait.

Serial Killer

I write short, episodic stories in an extended series. This makes endings difficult. There isn’t a neat wrap up because the story continues. Side characters step up front and centre to take over the narrative. My endings prime the pump for the next instalment.

So The Ghost and the Vipers closes with the two climactic ‘gun fights’ and a hint at a Happy for Now respite. There’s no explaining the magic system, no ride into the sunset, no medal presentation ceremony or round of applause.

The pursuit isn’t over. Book Two is waiting in the wings. More bad guys close in. The found family comes together. Jo decides; the hunted become the hunters. And away we go into Book Three. The gang arrives at the capitol with the immediate problem of infiltrating a surveillance state. And after the mission? A hint at a new life somewhere else. Cue end title card

Enter late and leave early.