When I was in 5th grade, my mom spent hours working on a middle-grade novel. These were the days before word processing, so she used an old Smith Corona electric typewriter. It became a fixture on the dining room table.
Eager to follow in her footsteps, I conceived my own novel. I bought a spiral-bound notebook and wrote on the cover, “The Adventures of SuperDog.” On the first page, I wrote, “Chapter 1.”
And so I began to describe how SuperDog came into existence. I mean, it was important to explain the hows and whys of how such a creature came to be, right? This took at least 1 page.
Then I started thinking of all the other questions his existence raised. How did he manage to buy and supply himself with food on a consistent basis? How did he come to have all of his resources? Where did his magical bone come from? What events led him to getting his powers? This consumed at least Chapters 2 and 3, from what I recall.
I was obsessed with explaining as logically and clearly as possible the ins and outs of this creature, and getting all the day-to-day questions settled, so that readers wouldn’t be confused.
It was pretty boring—so boring, in fact, I stopped around Chapter 6 or 7. I can’t even remember what the story conflict was. I was too obsessed with the proper setup.
I was too young to know it at the time, but the stuff I was writing was really prep work—character background, setting/environment details, world-building rules—stuff that I needed to know to write the REAL story, but not something I should dump in the first chapters.
My inclination with SuperDog is the inclination most writers have when approaching their first manuscripts: I’ve got to show how this world came to be. I need to put in this explanation of why this person is how they are now. I need to show what everyday life is like. I need to … ZZzzzzz.
It’s OK to leave stuff out. You have to, because if you don’t, you’ll never get to the real story you want to tell. The how-it-all-came-to-be can be related as you go—and some of it can create tension, e.g., “Why IS Jeb so nervous whenever he’s around Lucy? When will we learn what happened between them?”
Or: Think of it this way. When you first meet someone new, what do you tell them about yourself? What do they need to know right away? And what will you save for later? You don’t have long to convey your story. A lot must be summarized and left to the imagination—and it’s better that way at the start.
Jane Friedman has spent nearly 25 years working in the book publishing industry, with a focus on author education and trend reporting. She is the editor of The Hot Sheet, the essential publishing industry newsletter for authors, and was named Publishing Commentator of the Year by Digital Book World in 2023. Her latest book is The Business of Being a Writer (University of Chicago Press), which received a starred review from Library Journal. In addition to serving on grant panels for the National Endowment for the Arts and the Creative Work Fund, she works with organizations such as The Authors Guild to bring transparency to the business of publishing.
I like to keep stuff vague in the first draft, just getting through the action and from beginning to middle to end. Second draft is where I input all the explanations (when needed) and then I let my beta reader loose on the story to see if everything makes sense.
man I wish you’d completed Super Dog. That would made for a sweet ass super hero! 🙂
Matt (Turndog Millionaire)
Explaining day to day life is definitely something I am guilty of in my first manuscript. Currently editing all of that stuff out… thanks for the post 🙂
Explaining day to day life is definitely something I am guilty of in my first manuscript. Currently editing all of that stuff out… thanks for the post 🙂
Explaining day to day life is definitely something I am guilty of in my first manuscript. Currently editing all of that stuff out… thanks for the post 🙂
Explaining day to day life is definitely something I am guilty of in my first manuscript. Currently editing all of that stuff out… thanks for the post 🙂
Great ideas here. I’m definitely and over-thinking writer (stop that). I have complete life stories (fascinating?) for many characters. Often, they don’t fit into the story but I’m tempted to shoe horn them in anyway… Still, I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad think to know who your characters are.
It’s hard to decide what’s important to have in there and what’s okay to leave out. Good food for thought.
I’m just starting the second draft of my novel and though I totally agree with what you say, I’ve found in the story that I’m telling that there is a lot of interesting stuff in what i had treated as backstory so I’m actually starting my story at an earlier point than i had originally done.
You may be doing the right thing, just be careful! (More on that here: https://janefriedman.com/2012/04/23/perfecting-your-first-page/)
Great post. thanks