Backstory

This chapter is the last one, because I hesitated on writing it. I’m an improviser, which means I invent backstory “as I go”. I could not remember or write down any tips or techniques for doing so. After improvising backstories for so long, it just happens automatically, and things seem to come together in my stories. (Usually.)

That being said, it is an important aspect of writing character. Backstory is basically the explanation for why they’re the way they are. It’s another story, unwritten, that comes before the current one. This course taught you that empathy is crucial, and empathy comes from understanding, which naturally means that backstory is crucial.

The key

But I guess I already gave you the answer.

Backstory should create empathy. It does so by explaining what events lead to a character’s current state.

A secondary purpose of backstory is to reveal information or mystery. But this should be handled with care, because if a character actually knows crucial information or secrets, then audiences are quick to ask the (annoyed) question: “why don’t they just TELL that!?”

No, the first and foremost purpose is the mystery of “why is our hero so distrusting?” or “how did the hero lose their leg?” or “why isn’t the hero speaking to his mother anymore?”

So, as a simple step-by-step guide to backstory, you’d have.

• Invent a great character for your current story.
• Look at their biggest strengths and weaknesses, their most memorable details.
• For each of them, figure out a reason for why they exist.
• Connect these reasons into a coherent backstory for the character.
• Reveal this backstory in bits and pieces, at relevant moments (not all at once)

You can do it the other way around: you invent a great backstory, then base your character on that. The pitfall here is, of course, that your resulting character is not a great fit for the actual story you’re telling. And the actual story is always more important than the backstory.

How to reveal backstory?

There’s a reason it’s backstory or unknown history. People don’t like to talk about it and it usually doesn’t come up in conversation (in a natural way).

For example, I’ve been struggling with a chronic illness for 10+ years. Almost everyone around me doesn’t even know this. Because when would I talk about it? When would I say “hey, out of the blue, just so you know, here’s my history with disease”? Never. The only people who truly know are those who have seen or experienced the limitations this places upon me.

The same is true for story. Don’t forcefully insert backstory all the time. Don’t literally state it at weird moments. Instead, I think the rule below is a good general principle.

True character is revealed in the choices somebody makes under pressure.

In other words, conflict is the state in which people reveal hidden or deeper parts about themselves.

I won’t mention my chronic disease out of the blue. But throw me in a situation where my illness prevents me from doing something (or makes it really hard to do), and now I suddenly have a conflict. I have to show or explain this information to someone in hopes of resolving the situation.

That’s why it’s generally recommended to throw your characters into conflicts all the time—the bigger the better. That’s the natural state in which they reveal personality, flaws, backstory, everything. Either by showing it (in how they deal with the conflict) or through dialogue (because they need somebody else, or other people are asking sensible questions).

An example

This is an example of the “backstory as I go”-approach. I like to do this because, as stated, the actual story is more important then backstory. I focus on the main plot first, trying to come up with interesting scene after interesting scene, and let that determine my backstory. Otherwise, you run the risk of planning some great background for a character, but having no exciting or suitable way to communicate it in the main story.

In my book series Wildebyte Arcades, our hero is placed into the world of video games to achieve a mission. They forgot their life before they were put in here.

As such, a large part of those stories concerns the Wildebyte trying to rediscover their own backstory! But … I didn’t actually know that backstory!

I wrote the stories whatever way seemed interesting to me. Whenever I had a quiet moment, I invented some new information about Wildebyte’s “real life” on the spot. New information that sounded interesting or cool.

Over time, this gives me a long list of everything I’ve made up. A list of backstory parts (which are already neatly integrated into the plot of each story!) that I simply have to connect.

I was somewhat “lucky” that I had to restart the first book several times. This allowed me to write multiple scenes that revealed new backstory ideas, so my list is actually a lot longer than what you learn in the first book.

Most importantly? After doing this, while standing underneath the shower, my head connected all the dots. It had figured out a way to connect all this backstory into one or two simple explanations that work. That same realization allowed me to figure out the climax to the book: a book that deals with “discovering your own past” so much, obviously had to end with a big reveal about that.

Why restart the first book several times?

I think the answer to this is very educational for beginning writers, that’s why I mention it.

At my first try, I included multiple video games in one book. I thought this was very exciting! And diverse! The Wildebyte hops between games, so let’s showcase that immediately.

But this didn’t work. It made the stories messy and complicated. I vowed to do exactly one video game per story, never more, never less. This helped focus the stories and streamline the plot.

Then I wrote the second version, but it still didn’t work. Wildebyte was already “fully formed” from chapter 1! They could already hop between games and understood their (technical) world. So what was there to learn? What mysteries were there to reveal? What was left to tell? The stories were already backstory-heavy … and I just made them about telling backstory even more!

The lesson here? Do not start your story too early, but also do not start it too late. Instead of revealing interesting backstory later on, actually make that happen at the start of the story.

I wrote another version, which literally starts (very first line) with the Wildebyte being dropped into the computer world for the very first time. That worked much better.

But I wasn’t done. They were dropped immediately into their “fake game” (for the mission). They had almost no issue navigating and could start the mission immediately. Wildebyte lacked those restrictions that make characters interesting.

So yes, another version. The drop went wrong: they were placed at the wrong location. The computer sees Wildebyte as a virus to remove. All the limitations of video games or software also apply to Wildebyte.

As they say: all writing is rewriting. And your first chapters are so crucial to making sure your story isn’t broken, that I think it’s worthwhile to try a few different approaches until you find the best one.