In the Moment
Suzanne Adair writes a mystery/suspense series set during the Southern theater of the Revolutionary War. Her first book, Paper Woman, won the 2007 Patrick D. Smith Literature Award from the Florida Historical Society. In 2009, Camp Follower was a finalist for both the Daphne du Maurier Excellence in Historical Mystery/Suspense Award and the Sir Walter Raleigh Award for Fiction. Visit her web site (www.suzanneadair.com) or blog (www.suzanneadair.typepad.com) for more information.
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You’re engrossed in a novel, turning pages quickly. Then you encounter a sentence like one of the following:
Although I didn’t know it yet, I wasn’t going to be able to meet Jim for lunch that day.
Mary huffed to the Porsche, started it, and screeched off, never noticing the puddle of fluid her car had left behind on the pavement.
The portent yanks you out of the novel’s world. Tension disperses. But you don’t know why.
On first impression, the use of foreshadowing statements like those above ought to enhance suspense. After all, the author is offering readers a warning: “Watch out, here it comes, something really bad is about to happen!” But in most cases, portents have the opposite effect on suspense.
If the narrative is told in the first person, as in the first example, the portent calls attention to the fact that the story is about past events. Those events are being recapped, so the point-of-view character has obviously escaped the peril that interrupted the lunch date. Even if the reader doesn’t consciously acknowledge this point, the subconscious realizes it. A chunk of emotional energy the reader has invested in the outcome dissipates.
If the author uses the third person, as in the second example, the point-of-view character may be seen as expendable, especially if he or she is a minor character. Recall the fate that usually befell security guards who wore red shirts in Star Trek. The author’s use of foreshadowing in this example turns Mary into a red shirt. Readers can already see her Porsche wrapped around a tree. Again, the emotional investment fizzles.
Why would authors use a writing technique that makes readers cease to care about characters and the outcome of stories? They probably believe that obvious portents like these ratchet up suspense. However these have a heavy-handed feeling to them, the sense that the author is giving away the end of the story or a major plot twist.
Readers don’t want to be told what’s coming. They anticipate the story unfolding at their pace. They like drawing their own conclusions. While in the midst of the book, they’re willing to tolerate a great deal of uncertainty. They don’t want to feel that the author manipulated them, withheld evidence, cut anticipation short, or was just too doggone lazy to convey suspense with finesse.
Here’s another way of looking at why most foreshadowing yanks readers from the world of the novel. Consider a truth that we’ve learned from Eastern sages who teach disciplines such as yoga and tai chi. We have control over neither the past nor the future. All we have to work with is the present. So we must focus on the present and not allow ourselves to be distracted by what has happened or what might be.
Anyone who has meditated knows the magnitude of that challenge. Imagine yourself meditating, and someone interrupts you by asking you a question. How easily do you regain the state of meditation?
The finest suspense propels readers into a kind of meditative state and holds them there, focusing tightly on what the point-of-view character experiences in the moment. These narratives don’t pause to tell readers, “Something really bad is about to happen!” because the authors have already laid groundwork for suspense earlier. Foreshadowing then becomes implied, rather than explicit.
How does an author generate implied vs. explicit foreshadowing? In my book, Camp Follower, I show early the questionable scruples of a supporting character. Much later in the story, the main character is forced to depend upon that supporting character at a crucial juncture. All along, the reader has had to tolerate the uncertainty of not knowing how far the supporting character can be trusted.
Authors use a variety of techniques for achieving subtle foreshadowing and making readers squirm with escalating suspense and unresolved anticipation. These authors write books that readers cannot put down, books that keep fans awake past 3 a.m.
What was the last novel you read that held you in the moment with implied foreshadowing?
July 20, 2010
Posted in: Guest Blogs
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12 Responses
Foreshadowing is tricky to do well. Psrt of the reason seems to be that nowadays, it’s not fashionable to do much foreshadowing. It’s difficult to do this kind of foreshadowing without seeming clunky. OTOH, the “If only I had known” stuff is pretty clunky and should be avoided. If you hint at it(perhaps from several different POVs, it might work quite well.
Anne G
Hi Anne, nice to see you here, and thanks for commenting.
When I bump into the “If only I had known” technique in an adult book, it always reminds me of what I read in YA books when I was in Junior High School, like the Nancy Drew, Hardy Boy, and Trixie Belden series. Many YA books today still use that kind of clunky foreshadowing. I wonder, is it because they think kids won’t get it?
Hinting at an upcoming danger from several POVs might come off less clunky. Have you read a book that pulls this off successfully?
Hi, Suzanne
You stated the problems with foreshadowing here even more clearly than on that quote of yours I posted at Mystery Writers Ink. For a moment I was tempted to change the quote to your 7th paragraph here, but instead I’ll just point Inksters to this whole post. It’s an excellent explication.
The most skillful ‘foreshadowing’ I read happens near the revelation of the bad guy. It’s very subtle. It’s done very quickly. It’s often as simple as a heretofore above suspicion character making an uncharacteristic statement or being seen in an place that makes the pieces fall together. Sometimes it is a peripheral character who takes on a more major role. (That’s usually done gradually) At that moment, I generally *know* what’s coming. My eagerness turns from the question ‘who done it?’ to the question ‘am I right?’ Either way, I can’t put the book down.
Thanks, Jayne! I could have *really* gotten into it here about clumsy foreshadowing, but Lelia doesn’t need a dissertation, so I restrained myself.
For those who are curious about Jayne’s reference to the Mystery Writers Ink blog, she quotes author Rhys Bowen and me about foreshadowing at the following url:
http://mysterywritersink.blogspot.com/2010/06/authors-on-delicacy-of-foreshadowing.html
Nancy, thanks for stopping by, and yes, I’ve seen that technique done. When it’s executed very well, it makes the hair stand up on my neck, thus it tightens the suspense. And of course, it’s a way to *show* instead of *tell*.
Suzanne, you actually explained it best now, in the adage writing teachers have always attempted to pound into students’ heads starting in grade school!
“*show* instead of *tell*”
THAT is why I find intrusive foreshadowing so infuriating! It’s *telling* me what’s going to happen instead of showing me as it happens.
“Lelia doesn’t need a dissertation, so I restrained myself.”
LOL, I love a good dissertation except when the writer is blathering on about his own accomplishments and I start to feel like he’s placed an ad instead of sharing his thoughts. So far, I haven’t had that happen here but I’ve seen it too often elsewhere. You done good
Thanks so much for being here!
Ah, Mari, how many different ways can you say to a writer, “Show, don’t tell” before it finally sinks in? There are so many levels of show vs. tell in a ms.
Being told by an author that something bad (or good) is about to happen is indeed irritating. That first example in my post is only a little paraphrased from a sentence I read in a novel less than 2 weeks ago — and by an author who ought to know better.
Thanks for stopping by.
Lelia, thanks for the opportunity to be your guest blogger today. You’re a gracious hostess.
I liked what you said about how clunky foreshadowing jerks a reader out of a meditative state. Plus, if the prose up to that point has worked well enough to hypnotize the reader, then the “little did she know” transition serves as a mental a splash from a bucket of cold water.
Thanks, Rhonda. “Splash from a bucket of cold water” is a great metaphor. Why would authors want to do such a thing to their readers?
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