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Exposition represents something of a paradox. Your readers want to understand what’s going on, but they get bored if you spend too much time explaining it. Knowing how much to tell, and when, is a delicate balancing act.
Many writers resolve the paradox by avoiding exposition altogether, and baby writers are baptized in the font of “show, don’t tell.” After all, if there’s no exposition, then there’s no problem. Literary and contemporary fiction authors can get away with this, but sci-fi/fantasy writers? Not so much.
So, what’s a speculative author to do? Here’s what I’ve learned from the movies and books I’ve devoured this month.
A whole new world
The best way to deliver exposition is to answer your readers’ questions right when they start asking them. If they actually care, then you’re not bothering them.
Of course, this is easier said than done. Readers have lots of questions at the beginning of the story, but you don’t want to play your hand too soon. A little mystery makes the game more interesting. Besides, you can’t read minds, so how do you know what your readers are thinking?
Many popular stories deal with this by making the main character an outsider, ignorant of the fantastical world where the story takes place. Harry Potter doesn’t know anything about the wizarding world because he was raised by Muggles. Guess what? His readers are all muggles, too. (Sorry, but I didn’t get my Hogwarts letter either.)
Like any eleven-year-old boy, Harry asks a million questions and wants to stick his nose into absolutely everything. The reader is along for the ride, exploring the new world through Harry’s eyes. Their curiosity piggybacks on Harry’s. When Harry asks about Voldemort, Hagrid tenses. Suddenly, the reader is leaning forward to hear his answer, too.
This exposition delivery method is common in speculative fiction. Frodo has never left the Shire, and Luke Skywalker doesn’t know what the Force is. They need someone to explain the world to them, so the explanations feel natural.
There’s probably a TV Tropes page for this, but I call this technique “the wide-eyed protagonist.” It’s popular for a reason, because when it works, it really works. There’s an avalanche of exposition in the first Harry Potter book, but did you even notice?
When the wide-eyed protagonist walks into walls
So, is making your character a wide-eyed protagonist the solution to exposition? It might be, depending on the kind of story you’re telling. This trope only works if your character is genuinely an outsider. They need a good reason not to know things.
I’m going to pick on Rebecca Ross’s Divine Rivals here. I enjoyed this book, but it’s an example of how not to deliver exposition.
In Divine Rivals, two gods have woken from an ancient slumber to wage war against each other, recruiting young men and women to their causes. When we meet the main character, aspiring journalist Iris, her brother left to fight almost six months ago.
You’d think that as a journalist with a personal stake in the conflict, Iris would know everything about the war and the risen gods, but she’s strangely ignorant about it. In fact, everyone is. In a world with phones, radios, and soldiers writing to their families, no one seems to know the first thing about the conflict. They don’t even seem to have the most basic curiosity about it.
It didn’t make sense until I realized Iris was supposed to be a wide-eyed protagonist. She needed to stay in the dark so we could learn about the war alongside her.
The problem was that there was no good reason for her ignorance — she worked at a newspaper, for crying out loud! (The in-universe explanation is that the paper’s owner doesn’t want his journalists reporting on the war, but that doesn’t explain the complete information blackout, especially when other papers are writing about it.)
Not only did this make for awkward exposition — Iris must go to great lengths to discover things she should already know — but it warped the worldbuilding. The characters’ knowledge and attitudes didn’t match the setting or the available technology. How can a cosmopolitan city with circa 1914 technology really have no idea what’s happening on the war front? The world didn’t feel believable.
As writers, what can we learn from this? The lesson is simple: A character who lives in a particular world must fully inhabit that world. They should know enough about how things work to not need answers to basic questions. (In all fairness to Ross, once Iris gets to the front line, the problem goes away because she’s entering a new environment. It’s just the first part of the book, when she’s on supposedly familiar turf, that the exposition doesn’t work.)
Just a typical Tuesday
If your main character is already familiar with their world, how does the reader learn about it without a massive infodump? How does the writer anticipate their questions?
The solution is simple: If the protagonist is already in their element, then show that.
I just finished the Lockwood & Co series, and Jonathan Stroud is a master of exposition. In the first book, we meet Lucy Carlyle as she enters a haunted house. As a professional ghost hunter, this is a typical night for her, but it isn’t for us!
We follow Lucy and her friend/colleague Lockwood as they follow their standard ghost-hunting protocol. Stroud sprinkles in a little exposition with each step, but the reader doesn’t mind. We want to understand what Lucy is doing, especially once the spooky shenanigans start. The effect is like peering over someone’s shoulder while they work on something fascinating and a little frightening.
There’s so much worldbuilding in these books that they contain glossaries, but the reader never feels overwhelmed. We get just enough information to understand what’s going on, no more and no less. For example, we learn that iron keeps the ghost hunters safe from phantoms because Lockwood forgets to pack their iron chains. That’s not only good exposition, it’s good foreshadowing — they’ll wish they had that extra protection before the night is through!
After escaping the haunted house, Stroud dedicates an entire chapter to Lucy’s backstory, but by then, he’s earned it. The reader is hooked. They want to know how Lucy became a ghost hunter and why that’s a legitimate profession in this world. In other words, they’ve built up a store of questions throughout a typical evening in Lucy’s life.
What’s ordinary for your characters might be extraordinary for your readers. Playing with that contrast is a great way to hook readers. Exposition involves explaining as you go, allowing the reader to follow along.
Plus, stakes make exposition interesting. Lucy’s typical day is inherently stressful, and every move she makes has life-or-death consequences (literally — a ghost’s touch is fatal). We care about the protocols that keep her safe, especially when things go wrong. All this tension makes exposition welcome.
Good exposition drives tension
That’s the last thing I want to say about exposition for now — it should drive tension. It should mean something.
When Iris arrives at a town near the front, a local explains the meaning of three different sirens. Each one corresponds to a specific monster that Iris will need to hide from. This is great exposition because it threads every scene with tension. Even while Iris is gardening and drinking hot cocoa with her friends, we can’t relax because we know the sirens can go off anytime.
In a similar vein, you learn how Lucy uses special items to protect herself from ghosts. When a phantom catches her without them, you feel her dread. You understand what it means for her to be defenseless in this world.
These aren’t just random details — they’re elements that shape a book’s tone and help drive the plot.
Before adding yet another detail to your worldbuilding, it’s worth asking: Does this serve the story, the characters, or the theme? How does it tie into the stakes? If you don’t have a good answer, your cool idea might just be a distraction.
I could easily write a dozen posts about exposition, so I’ll stop here for now. (I highly recommend both Divine Rivals and Lockwood & Co, by the way!)
What do you think makes exposition interesting? Does your writing feature a wide-eyed protagonist?
July submission opportunities
Here are some cool places to send your work this month. As always, all are paying markets.
Uncharted Magazine - “We want stories that richly imagine the future of technology and science, that explore our world through a speculative lens. We want stories of fantasy that make us hunger for new worlds, new biomes, new places we can explore through thrilling sensual details and human empathy. We want stories that thrill us, that make us feel alive, that awaken our desires to explore and go on adventures.”
Weird West Anthology - From Shacklebound Books. Open until July 31.
Tractor Beam - Soilpunk! “We are looking for original written and graphic works that have actionable soil-based technologies as their premise.” Closes July 31.
Pulp Asylum - “I am looking for straight-ahead, fully-formed stories with an inventive plot, lively action, and memorable endings.”
Polaris - Afrofuturism poetry. Published by Blair Publishing. Closes July 31.
Pink Hydra - Tales of unreality. Fiction and poetry. Closes July 31.
parABnormal - Paranormal storiesHireat. Published by Hiraeth Books. Closes July 31.
Spells and Fangs Anthology - Stories about witches and vampires. From Dragon Soul Press. Closes July 30.
Diabolical Plots - Open from July 7 - 21 for short stories.
Inner Worlds - “Science fiction, fantasy, or supernatural horror prose with a strong emotional or psychological focus." Open July 15-31 for general submissions.
For more submission opportunities, check out the community forum.
Community news
We’ve had some good news in the community this month!
Congratulations to Catherine Brown, whose story, “A Griffin’s Ransom,” appeared in Sudden Flash! I’m impressed with how much she was able to pack into such a short story.
I’ve also had a poem published in Illumen Magazine! I’ve been trying to place this piece for a long time, and I’m honored to be included in their latest issue.
After five weeks, our summer writing challenge is still going strong. The goal: Write 500 words a day. Come join us here!
Happy writing!
-Anna