One of the most common missed opportunities I see when I’m editing novels involves mysteries.
Do you want to know what it is? Am I being mysterious?
Often, when authors are trying to create mysteries, instead of building delicious anticipation, they end up being maddeningly vague. It’s really hard to invest in a mystery when we don’t have enough information to understand what’s happening entirely.
In order to feel suspense, the reader needs to be primed around why they should care.
In the original version of this post, I oriented it around how to build mysteries around whether characters succeed or fail. And that’s important! But priming the reader goes beyond simply establishing mysteries. Any time you want the reader to feel a sense of dread or anticipation or to set up a delicious payoff down the line, it’s crucial to clue in the reader and to lay the groundwork for your characters’ triumphs and failures.
Prime the reader any time you want them to care. Here’s what I mean.
Novels are not screenplays
Movies and TV shows dominate our modern storytelling consciousness, and when writers turn their attention to writing novels, they often have movies and TV shows in their heads. But novels are a fundamentally different medium. Be extremely cautious about screenplay-izing your novel.
For instance, how many TV shows or movies have you seen that start off with a character running through a dark forest and we don’t know why? In a visual medium, there’s leeway to just show a character running, to establish that they’re scared from the characters’ facial expression and furtive looks behind them (and their inevitable trip over a log), and the viewer feels anticipation to see what will emerge from the mist.
Novels are different.
I see quite a few novels that start off with something that nominally feels high stakes, like a character cinematically running through a dark forest as fast as they can… only the author doesn’t tell us why they’re running. And I get it! The author wants to wonder why this character is running. It sorta feels mysterious right?
But when we’re reading novels, it’s downright confusing to be left in the dark about why the characters’ doing what they’re doing, particularly in first person or third person limited perspectives where we’re tied to a character’s inner thoughts. Since we’re not “allowed” to know why the character is running, it can feel almost hostile that the author is just holding out on us and preventing us from understanding why we should care.
In the climactic moment of the chase, if it’s a movie we’ll instantaneously grasp what was chasing the character. But in a novel, if we’re not properly primed around what’s happening, the reveal may come out in a chaotic jumble of physical description and context.
The novelist eventually manages to dribble out: Actually, the character has just escaped an evil moon demon, and had they not succeeded, they would have gotten ripped to shreds! But… we only find that out after the character has already escaped. Womp womp.
The reader will probably say something along the lines of: “Oh. Had I known that, I might have been scared…”
Instead of being titillated, the reader was just confused. Do you see the problem here?
Readers need to be primed to care
Novels are interesting storytelling beasts.
Compared to movies and TV shows, the storytelling in novels is much more bound up in characters’ intent and interiority. We’re more connected to characters’ inner consciousness, so it’s more confusing than it is in movies to be kept in the dark about characters’ motivations.
Instead of simply passively watching what’s happening as in a TV show, when we’re reading a novel we’re co-creating the world in our head. We’re much more attuned to why characters are doing what they’re doing and whether their actions make sense. We must sort through a lot of information to figure out what’s important and unimportant in order to latch onto the story.
In a novel, it’s hard to process as much information in a flash as we can with film and TV, so it feels overwhelming to find out everything all at once when a demon arrives to eat the character.
So when a mystery is vague, it’s a missed opportunity to build suspense and anticipation.
What’s a better mystery:
Why is this character running through the forest? Or: Is this character going to get ripped to pieces by a nasty moon demon?
Had we known from the start of the chase that there’s a demon after the character, we would know the contours of what’s at stake. We would start imagining what might happen if they fail and get ripped to shreds. We would start investing in the outcome, and thus would feel more satisfied when the protagonist barely escapes.
How to prime the reader
There are some crucial building blocks that come together to successfully prime the reader in order to build suspense and anticipation:
- What the character wants — If you want the reader to feel anticipation, we need to know what we’re meant to invest in on the character’s behalf. Sometimes it’s also helpful to reveal the character’s specific plan to illustrate what it looks like if things go well, even if those plans don’t pan out.
- What’s at stake — Once we know what the character wants, we need to know precisely why it’s important to them. What happens if the character succeeds? What happens if they fail? Give us precise anticipatory imagery, e.g. exactly how it would feel if the demon’s claws sank in, or the gleaming ruby ring in the demon’s treasure stash if they can just make it to the cave.
- Delay — Suspense and anticipation need room to breathe! Prime the reader, then keep them dangling. Let danger and suspense linger. Don’t release the tension.
- Obstacles — The more skin we see the character put in the game, the more invested we’ll feel on their behalf. Payoffs are directly proportionate to the struggle it took to get there.
All of these elements need to either be self-evident or explicitly spelled out on the page. Don’t worry that you’re being pedantic or that you’re “telling” instead of showing. You can’t be clear enough about a character’s motivations and why they matter. The reader just wants to know why they should care and will appreciate the context.
So to return to our character running through the forest, the moment we learn what the character wants (to escape a moon demon), and what’s at stake (if they get caught, they’ll get ripped to shreds), we start feeling invested in what’s happening. Every delay and stumble without a resolution builds suspense for the eventual showdown. The more the character has to struggle to escape, the more triumph or tragedy we’ll feel when the conflict gets resolved.
But all of that depends on priming the reader before the demon arrives.
Even “quiet” plot points benefit from priming
Priming the reader extends beyond chase scenes and more traditional mysteries. Any plot point where you want the reader to feel a sense of triumph or terror on a character’s behalf will be enhanced if you prime the reader as early as possible.
Will the starry-eyed girl get that brooding guy? Show the reader how much she wants it by vividly illustrating the dreamy life she’s picturing if it happens and the gutter she’ll live in if it doesn’t work. Then introduce delays and obstacles to let the anticipation build.
Will the character come to terms with their messy past? Show the reader how the character imagines cracking it will solve their life, even if it’s unrealistic. Then show the character chasing what they think they want, even if the reader knows they’re barking up the wrong tree.
Conversely, if you don’t help the reader understand what’s important to the character from the start, the reader will struggle to understand why they should care. When the girl eventually gets the guy or the character realizes their parents will jerks, it will feel more like a cheap magic wand was waved over them than the climax of a triumphant struggle.
Prime the reader. Knock over the hourglass. Show the reader precisely what the character wants and why it’s important to them, and watch the suspense build.
For further reading:
- How to make your novel unputdownable
- How to craft a great mystery in a novel
- Don’t start a chapter without these six essential elements
- Your protagonist’s plans are useful, especially when they don’t pan out
Originally published as “Build mysteries around whether characters will succeed or fail” on November 29, 2021
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Art: Robert-Léopold Leprince – Intérieur d’un bois à Pierrefitte
“After that moment, the reader will have a very hard time taking anything in the novel at face value, which is an exhausting way to read.”
I mean, with some novels that’s the whole point!
Definitely! If it’s the point, go for it. But if it’s a one-off surprise, it can have damaging downstream effects.
A helpful post, Nathan. I’m considering writing the openings of two of my early novels as I don’t think they grab the reader well enough.