Elevate your storytelling above "what happens next?"

A simple, but powerful toolkit to keep your readers turning pages

Photo by Girl with red hat on Unsplash

Tell me more…

I’m snuggling-slash-wrestling our wriggly six-year-old son in his bed while performing my maternal, Scheherazade-esque nightly ritual: I tell him three bedtime stories; if they’re good enough, I’m allowed to leave his room, perhaps in time for a few grownup minutes to myself before I crash.

These days our bedtime stories revolve around a character from an animated TV series I barely know. My weak familiarity with the series doesn’t matter—I’ve got the gist of the character’s adventure style, and I know I’m on the right track to a worthy story when my son pauses his somersaulting across my head and makes this request in a solemn voice: tell me more.

Whenever he hears an interesting story begin—whether about a time when Daddy was little or a silly fantasy—he intones: tell me more. Almost like a chorus from an Ancient Greek drama.

It’s not the question I expected a six year old to ask. Instead, I’d anticipated this query: what happens next?

What happens next? Curiously anticipating the upcoming plot point. It’s the impetus keeping readers turning pages—isn’t it?

In the case of story, as in so many other things, my young son is wise beyond his years. Yes, we all crave the answer to: what happens next, but there’s another, perhaps stronger call, and that call is: tell me more.

As it happens, I just finished a literary fiction read that ran a master class in tell me more and in using it drive those turning pages. Here’s how the author did it.

When what happens next and tell me more meet

Written by Swedish author, Fredrik Backman, A Man Called Ove does two things I love: elevates the mundane to drama and plays with time. In the book protagonist, Ove, wants nothing more than to see HOA rules properly upheld in his row house community and to kill himself in peace. If that’s not a compelling blend of the mundane and dramatic, I don’t know what is.

Backman unfolds Ove’s story in his own way by moving forwards and backwards through time. The opening scene of the novel repeats in the dénouement. Chapters ping and pong between the Ove’s present—a frustrating week in which nosy neighbors repeatedly interfere with his suicide attempts—and the story of his past.

In some ways the experience reminded me of attending a well-loved opera performance—say, Madama Butterfly. You don’t have to worry about spoilers in the opera world. The audience already knows the story, and drama doesn’t come from revealing what happens next. Musical motifs of doom chimed ahead of the tragic climax tingle our spines all the more because we, the audience, already know what’s coming.

Just like an opera, A Man Called Ove plays with what the audience already knows, but in a different way. Backman begins the long story of Ove’s life quite close to the end. We know Ove will one day choose to kill himself. The question becomes, why? What will lead up to this drastic decision?

In other words, tell me more.

What impresses me most about Backman’s storytelling is his combination of the obvious what happens next (will Ove successfully kill himself, or won’t he?) with the deeper magic of tell me more (what is the life history driving Ove’s current behavior?).

Backman weaves the answers to these intertwined questions to sustain a page-turning novel that also left me feeling deeply connected to its characters. It was practically a magical spell to so deeply emotionally invest me not only in Ove, but in the entire cast of characters—past and present—he encountered.

So, how did he do it?

How Backman tells us more

Backman’s what happens next is pretty obvious: does Ove kill himself, or doesn’t he? His tell us more is a more complex craft, derived from multiple techniques.

Backstory

First, backstory. Backman bobs back and forth in time, outlining pieces of Ove’s personal history while omitting vital details. There’s a trail of clues. First, we observe his odd behavior and wonder why. Next, we learn one possible reason for his behavior. A little later Backman introduces further reasons. Yet, our understanding of his motives is hazy. We have tantalizing hints, but no solid evidence. Only later will we learn the full story, rendered in satisfying, full-flashback prose. Then, the full impact of those joys and traumas plow into us with full force.

Character interaction

Another trick Backman uses is to compel his protagonist to collide with other characters. Those interactions aren’t limited to the present. In each scene we experience from Ove’s past, we’re given more opportunities to observe how he interacts with other characters—sometimes by choice, sometimes not.

Ove experiences most social interaction as intrusion—he’d rather be left alone. This colors his character in a subtle, yet highly impactful way. Whether your protagonist is a loner or a social butterfly, the power of the unexpected or unwanted is in your hands. The only requirement is a person or situation that is either unexpected, unwanted, or both.

Remember, character interaction isn’t limited to your POV character’s experience. Backman also takes full advantage of every opportunity to show us how the characters around Ove react to him. Knowing your character from others’ vantage is a tremendous tool for forging connections between a reader and a character.

Make decisions and act

Backman’s third trick is showing Ove make decisions. Whether during backstory or present scenes, every time Ove makes a decision and acts, it’s as if his character leaps off the page and comes to life. Whether he’s acting stubborn, loyal, crotchety, or so big-hearted he might burst, the magic making Ove seems so real is conjured by the choices he makes.

Now, how do I learn to do this magic?

Applying tell me more to my writing

A Man Called Ove is literary fiction, but Backman’s classic and powerful tools are available to writers of every genre.

What happens next stirs high emotions as we anticipate the outcomes of a character’s decisions and actions, but why pass on the opportunity to tell me more by engaging our readers’ emotions in other dimensions of storytelling?

We can tease a protagonist’s backstory by piquing readers’ curiosity, then gradually fill in the details. We can ignite complex character interactions when our protagonist encounters (to them) unexpected or unwanted people and situations. Finally. we can define their personalities through galvanizing decisions that lead to bold actions.

A simple, but powerful toolkit. I’m super excited to practice wielding it while drafting my next story.