PROMISES YOU MAKE YOUR READER (PART 2)
We promised we would be back with a few more promises (ha!) and here we are. Enjoy!
1) You make a promise about your world.
Promise the world? As in the entire world? It may seem vast, but it’s not just any world you’re vowing to share; it’s your world, the universe of your book. Regardless of the genre you’re working in, you need to invite the reader into your world, and it has to feel authentic. This holds true whether you’re crafting a contemporary tale set in an ordinary suburb or an intricate fantasy narrative set in a different realm. The reader must be able to believe in your world, and the most effective way to achieve that is for you to have faith in it yourself.
Another important aspect of promising your world is that when it comes to details, less can often be more. Writers frequently feel the urge to provide as much detail about the setting as possible, believing that the more they include, the more tangible the world will seem. This is particularly common in fantasy narratives, where the author might fear that the reader won’t fully grasp the setting unless every single detail is described.
The reality is that readers are perceptive, and often a few strategically placed details will resonate more than lengthy descriptive passages. Just as readers rely on the writer to create a world that feels genuine, the writer must also trust the readers to suspend their disbelief and engage with that world.
2) You make a promise about a problem.
From the very first page, your reader needs to understand that there’s a challenge the character is confronting. Whether this challenge is overt (like the family’s financial struggles in Pride and Prejudice) or a mystery (as seen in If I Stay), we recognize from the outset that the character is dealing with some form of difficulty, some issue. This promise is vital because whatever this issue may be, it will play a key role in establishing the central conflict of your story.
Keep in mind that while this issue introduced early in the narrative doesn’t necessarily have to be the main conflict.
It’s important to recognize that the issue introduced early in the narrative doesn’t always have to serve as the main conflict. In Pride and Prejudice, the family’s financial troubles are presented at the outset, but as the story progresses, we learn that the true central conflict revolves around the relationship between Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy, with the initial financial issue merely adding to the tension. This financial dilemma triggers a series of events that ultimately reveal the main conflict. If the Bennet family weren’t facing such dire financial circumstances, Mrs. Bennet likely wouldn’t have urged her daughters to find husbands, and Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy might never have crossed paths, which ultimately leads to their romance.
5) An event is promised.
Every narrative begins with some form of event that sets the story in motion. In If I Stay, the event is monumental and completely alters the characters’ lives. In Catcher in the Rye, Holden’s departure from boarding school initiates the sequence of events that unfolds the story. In Feed, we kick off with a trip to the moon for enjoyment, and the plot develops from there. In Pride and Prejudice, the arrival of the wealthy bachelor Mr. Bingley in the neighbourhood sparks a flurry of gossip among the locals. Regardless of whether the event gently nudges the plot forward or propels it with force, there must be an early event that ignites the story.
Your audience will anticipate that event, so as a writer, it’s crucial to deliver on that promise. If you postpone the event for too long, you risk losing your reader’s interest or, even worse, causing them to abandon the story entirely. The quicker you initiate your narrative; the sooner you can engage your reader.
Ultimately, it all boils down to establishing a sense of trust with your audience. By fulfilling these commitments, you demonstrate to your readers that they are in capable hands and that you are knowledgeable in your craft. When you take creative risks in your writing with a thoughtful intention, you also convey to your readers that you have faith in them. In the end, the relationship between a reader and a writer is fundamentally based on trust. Readers rely on writers to keep their promises and not deceive them, while writers must have confidence in their readers’ intelligence and comprehension of their work.