We oftentimes hear the word flashback and we begin to think of all the don’ts associated with them. Don’t use them too early. Don’t let them go on too long. Don’t include too many. The list goes on and on. Flashbacks get a bad rap because they’re oftentimes misunderstood in terms of how to use them. If used intentionally and with deliberate purpose, flashbacks can reel your reader in, transforming their understanding of your character and transforming the way your character’s journey evolves. Let’s talk through four ways flashbacks can achieve these wonderful ends without drawing any sort of negative attention via all the don’ts we’ve come to know all too well.

1. Flashbacks can give rise to emotional attachment to facets of the character’s ordinary world.

If you’ve sent your character away from their normal world somewhat early in your story, flashbacks can work like a gauge for where your protagonist is emotionally inside their new world versus when they were in their ordinary world. When they arrive to a new setting, they will encounter new faces, places, objects, and other unfamiliar things. Consider how you can bridge elements about these new things to elements from the ordinary world to evoke a sense of longing. For example, if the character settles in for the night in a strange room, maybe there’s a mirror hanging in a spot similar to where their favorite picture of them and their best friend is back home. Recalling that picture can be a gateway into a small flashback that lets us glean that friendship, and how being away from it makes the protagonist feel. Think of this as a sliding scale. We might expect more of these types of flashbacks closer to when the protagonist enters the new world, signaling their reluctance to be comfortable in the new world. But as time goes on, the flashbacks signal old attachments are fewer and further between to suggest growth and a “letting go” of the ordinary world.

2. Flashbacks can give rise to an aha about something in the ordinary world.

Time and distance away from the ordinary world can afford your protagonist an aha as they look back. Piggybacking on the point above, you can use new faces, new places, new objects, and other unfamiliar things to show a shift in their perspective. Maybe a new character has the same hair color as your protagonist’s friend back in the ordinary world. Only this new character is always upbeat and encouraging and eager to help your protagonist, which gives rise to the realization that the friend back in the ordinary world actually isn’t the friend your protagonist once thought they were. Or maybe your character visits a wonderful place in the new world and realizes that in their ordinary world, they didn’t take risks or explore enough. The dichotomy of the old and the new can evoke a realization and mark inner growth for your character.

3. Flashbacks can be tools to gradually reveal a character’s hidden past if they’re not yet ready to face it.

In books where the protagonist has trauma buried in their past, it makes sense that we may choose to unroll that past as the front story increases their confidence and comfort to do so. In other words, flashbacks can be like you handing the reader (and the character) puzzle pieces of the protagonist’s past. Little by little, the reader gradually understands the traumatic event that created the character they meet on page one. And to honor the nature of trauma and the authenticity of a healing journey, we can deliberately select flashback snippets that build—almost like a plot all their own—to a full reveal. Some of the most masterful examples of this are HEART IN A BODY IN THE WORLD by Deb Caletti and WALK TWO MOONS by Sharon Creech.

Flashbacks Should be Written Tightly

Because we effectively stop the front story for them, they risk pulling down tension and they cause the reader to start forgetting what was going on pre-flashback. As I often tell clients, get in and get out. Consider showing us only what we absolutely need to see and build the flashback around one snapshot of emotional punch and plot reveal. Flashbacks can be a small as one sentence. And while you might expect I’m going to say wait to show flashbacks, I’m going to say the opposite. Don’t wait to start sprinkling in those mini-flashbacks. The one-liners that pique curiosity and start giving shape to why you started your novel where you did. Those clues that keep your reader engaged as they piece together your character’s past and how your front story is going to address it.

Flashbacks Should be Logically-Timed

It helps to have a concrete thing the reader can point to that kicks off the timing of the flashback. For example, your character may walk down a gravel path as they approach the front door of their new foster family, and the sound evokes a memory of driving down a gravel road, singing alongside the father they lost. Connect the flashback so the narrator isn’t manipulating their timing strictly for tension’s sake, but rather doling them out in a way that feels intentional.

Carefully Plan Flashbacks

Any time we choose to unroll a character’s past through flashbacks, we must do so with solid reasoning that goes beyond setting up a twist for the sake of shock factor. As I mentioned above, books with trauma have grounds to utilize this technique because we can assume characters have been too traumatized to give their full backstory to us up front. But if you withhold past memories in an effort to keep the reader’s attention, chances are it will backfire.

Each Flashback Should Show Something New

If we have multiple flashbacks showing us how much your protagonist loved their pet lizard, the flashbacks flatten the plot arc. They’re interchangeable since they’re more or less the same. But if each flashback shows something more secretive, or something harder for the protagonist to face, or something higher in terms of what your character values, the sequence of flashbacks create an arc all their own.

Flashbacks Should Not be Your Only Connection to Your Character’s Past

We should still see hints of the flashback inside the front story itself. We may not know what caused the character’s wounds, but we see the scars. The past we don’t yet fully know should drive their behavior, their choices, their interactions, and their dialogue. As the writer, you know the backstory and so you can craft clue drops that let us puzzle our way along until we get the full story.

by MARISSA GRAFF

Source: writershelpingwriters.net

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