Let’s start with a little thought experiment. Would you have sex with any random man? You might be thinking, I’m not sure John, there’s a lot of information I need. I have so many questions. How many partners has he had in the past two years? Will he get needy or is he just looking for a one-time thing? Is he of good breeding? I’m totally not gay so can we just try watching each other jack off so I can prove I’m not gay when I only get a little bit hard?

Of course, I can’t answer all the questions. There has to be a little mystery to keep it spicy as well.

This is a thought experiment I always do when I teach writing classes at the learning annex, and when I bring in Dale to the classroom, I do it to illustrate the importance of exposition. Much like your decision about whether or not you’d bang Dale, your reader won’t follow your characters through your story unless you can answer some key questions about their background, but if you give too much information away, they might get bored and lose track of the narrative. We’ll explore the correct ways to utilize exposition on this edition of Stories’ Matter.

Exposition is a literary device that communicates background information to your reader. Now, according to Freytag, exposition happens at the beginning of your story, but as we’ve talked about before, Freytag was a dumbass who didn’t know shit about shit (and who also thought Polish people could only become proper human beings through German colonization and by forcing them to stop speaking Polish).

Exposition can take place at any time in the story and will often be effective if it’s sprinkled carefully throughout your narrative. There are two kinds of exposition: direct and indirect. Let’s look at an example of direct exposition.

“Once upon a time, there was a little girl named Latifa who lived on 198^th Street and Lenox Avenue. Latifa’s grandma lived across town in a rat-infested project with the dope fiends, gangbangers and Mexican pimps, and every day after school, Latifa was responsible for bringing her a fresh brick of cocaine so she and the other old ladies could cut it before it went out on the streets.”

I’ll admit this lacks immediacy. I only did it because I was going for a fairy tale vibe, as this was a retelling of Little Red Riding Hood set in modern-day Harlem that I wrote with one of my black friends (And I only refer to him this way because, in the end, he asked to have his name removed from the project.)

Now let’s listen to an example of indirect exposition from the same story.

“Dan reached into the drawer to find the pistol and touched the spot smeared with Janet’s lipstick. What was that shade—she must’ve mentioned it a dozen times? Mars sunrise, or something like that. Dan grabbed the gun and walked across the empty living room, peeking back as he stepped out into the hall. A year ago this would’ve been a place worth protecting, he told himself.”

This says a lot while keeping the story moving. As I explained in this video, it shows instead of tells. We learn Janet was someone important to him, either a girlfriend or possibly his mom, and we know that she’s no longer in his life, something the emptiness of the apartment clarifies. The subtlety provides a bigger emotional impact as well.

Now, we’re going to look at four different ways to provide exposition in our writing with more samples of my writing, now available for purchase on Amazon.

Example 1: Exposition through conflict

“Sally had planned everything perfectly, tied up every loose end–she even shaved all her head hair and pubes–but still she woke up Thursday morning to the police knocking on her door.”

That’s how I began The They/Them Murders, a thriller about the woke left mob involved in a series of disappearances in the suburbs of Branson, Missouri. Because it’s tied to some immediate action, it doesn’t feel like telling and while it reveals the past, a lot is still shrouded in mystique, which entices the reader. Why did she shave her pubes? Was she sliding naked through some kind of cramped tube and wanted to avoid the hairs getting ripped or pulled out?

Example 2: Exposition through dialogue

“You seem anxious. What’s wrong?” “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just that I haven’t been in this hospital since my brother died from sepsis.”

That’s from an early scene in Heartland, a coming-of-age story about one teen’s decision to become an organ donor. Dialogue can be one of the most natural ways to reveal backstory. But when you do this, make sure you don’t have people talking about something they both already know, like in… all movies. Find workarounds to this dilemma. Instead of a man explaining how he got his scar to his wife of 20 years, rewrite the scene so he’s explaining it to a prostitute.

Example 3: Exposition through newspaper articles, diary entries, emails and other epistolary devices

“Pa lost the farm today. Said we’s gon move to Arkansas soon as grandpappy funeral get over wit. Can’t say I miss em’ much myself, though.”

From Ode to Adelay, about a rural family struggling through the Great Depression. Devices like these are great ways to get across a lot of background information without it feeling like telling and without the reader losing interest. And you’d be surprised by the vast number of things you can use to convey information. Just take a look around your house: for me, that includes things like horse race results, warning labels for sleep medication, threatening letters to the IRS.

That’s all for this time. Please don’t forget to like and subscribe.