Message for M. Reader: Are You Telegraphing Your Plot?

By Janice Hardy, @Janice_Hardy

Hints are great, but be wary of making it too obvious what's going to happen in your novel.

Have you ever watched a TV show or movie, and someone says something that you know is going to come back later and be the key to saving the day? "Well now," says random stranger, "we haven't use that road since a big old sinkhole opened up ten years ago." Immediately, we know that sinkhole is totally where the hero is going to lead the horrible monster or bad guy chasing him at the climax--and he does.

Kinda takes all the fun out of it, right?

While foreshadowing is a wonderful tool that can heighten tension and make the reader eager to know what will happen, telegraphing steals all the tension and takes the mystery out of those hints. It shines a light on the things you're actually trying to be subtle about. It's like foreshadowing gone too far.

(Here's more on Foreshadowing -- Don't You Love it?)

How do you know if you've gone too far?  

Telegraphic clues often feel stuck in, because they aren't a natural part of the events or thoughts the protagonist is currently experiencing. There are no reasons for the protagonist to look/think/say/notice what they just did aside from the author wanting to hint that whatever they're seeing/thinking/saying/noticing means something. It's a neon sign saying, "This will be important later."

Ask yourself:

If you had no idea what a clue meant, would it still fit the scene?

While a telegraph can show up anywhere, there are some common ones to watch out for it:

The Not-So-Random Stranger 

This is a character-to-be-important later. These guys walk into a scene and get noticed (often described with more detail than the scene warrants), but are then ignored. Later, at a key moment in the story, the protagonist remembers them and they're exactly what they need to save the day. Or worse, they appear exactly when needed.

Bob glanced up from his whiskey. A tall, beefy dude walked into the bar, coat dusty, face covered in dirt. And was that...? Yep, dynamite in his pockets. What kind of lunatic carried dynamite around like that? He shook his head and reached for the beer nuts.

How long do you think it'll be before Bob realizes he needs dynamite and this guy pops into his head? Or he's facing something he can't get past and needs someone with demolition skills? How surprised do you think the reader will be when Bob starts down the plot path where it'll be obvious that he'll need dynamite?

Now, if Bob had any meaningful interaction with the guy that served the scene, those little sticks of dynamite would slide on by and readers would probably barely notice. If the stranger has a purpose in the scene aside from foreshadowing or laying groundwork, the hints stay hints.

(Here's more on One, Two Three, Notice Me: The Rule of Three (And How it Helps Our Writing))

The Pointed-Out Item 

I blame movies for this one. Those slow zooms on something that's meant to be prophetic. The badge left on the desk, the burning candle, the drip. An item that carries significance is focused on and the protagonist pays a little too much attention to it while acting like they're not paying attention to it.

Jane rummaged through the backpack, lightening the load just like Bob asked her. No need for sterno, they had the kitchen gear for that. Extra magazines for the nine mil were a keeper. She pulled the hunting knife out. A heavy thing, the blade almost nine inches, deadly sharp, but she'd never actually used it. If she ever got that close to a zombie she was dead anyway. Did she really need to carry it? She tossed it on the bed. It could stay here until they got back.

Any doubts Jane is going to be in close quarters with a zombie and really need that knife and not have it? When the zombie jumps out, no one will be surprised.

But if she throws it in with her gear without undue comments, it's there in her backpack and the reader's mind, and it'll be nice surprise when she has a way to defend herself they weren't expecting. Just trim out the telegraphing parts:

Jane rummaged through the backpack, lightening the load just like Bob asked her. No need for sterno, they had the kitchen gear for that. The hunting knife was too heavy. Extra magazines for the nine mil were a keeper. She tossed everything else on the bed.

The clue has been dropped, the hint is there, and readers won't be waiting for it.

(Here's more on Planting the Clues and Hints in Your Story)

The Overheard News 

Sometimes this can be done with great effect, but it can also be a neon sign that something is going to happen. The TV or radio is on as a character walks into the room and the newscaster is talking about something the protagonist will need later. Or the protagonist is buying gas and two locals are arguing about a myth or local legend. The detail feels like it's slipped in naturally (it's just background noise after all) but it's stuck in so it's obvious instead of seamless.

Sally slid three tubes of sunscreen and the beef jerky strips across the counter. Highway robbery is what it was, but they needed the ammo and that didn't come cheap these days. She glanced at two old men over in the corner by the blankets.

"No one's seen him," the fat one said. "Told his wife he was headed up to Beggar's Canyon, but we didn't find him."

"Think he took off with that waitress?"

"Doubt it. She has better taste."

The clerk-extortionist handed her the ammo. "Thanks."

Two things we can expect from this. One, is that Sally will somehow end up at Beggar's Canyon because that'll be the answer to something they need. Two, she'll come across this missing man at some point. Will anyone be surprised? Not a bit.

Of course, that could very well be the point, which is why this is just as effective as it is ineffective. If you want readers to wonder about the missing man, and wonder how Beggar's Canyon fits in with the plot and what Sally's doing, then it could actually add the right amount of anticipation. But it's a tricky balance to get right. When it works, it's because readers are already curious about that direction anyway, and this gives them one more piece of a puzzle they already have. It's not just a random detail pointing in a direction.

You'd think expecting the things these details telegraph would actually raise the anticipation factor. It makes sense from a story standpoint that the reader can see these things coming and has time to wonder when they might occur. That's foreshadowing, right?

Not exactly.

Unpredictability is what keeps a reader reading. The uncertainty of how something will play out, what a character will do, how they'll solve a problem. Knowing what will happen makes the story feel predictable, and instead of wondering, they're waiting. If they can see the plot coming a mile away, they can figure out what's going to happen and then nothing feels new and exciting.

If you're drawing attention to it because you want the reader to remember it for later, there's a good chance you're telegraphing. If you're slipping it in and wondering how many readers will notice it, you're probably foreshadowing. Drop the hints. Don't point out the clues.

(Here's more on The Physiology of Foreshadowing)

Staying on the Foreshadow Side of Life 

One mystery-writer's trick is to hide important clues in the middle of other things. Readers don't pay much attention to what's in the middle of a paragraph. How different is Jane's knife clue if it looks like this:

Jane rummaged through the backpack, lightening the load just like Bob asked her. No need for sterno, they had the kitchen gear for that. She didn't need to lug around the hunting knife. Extra magazines for the nine mil were a keeper. She slung pack over her shoulders and tested the weight. Better.

Now, when the zombies start closing in we'll be worried. We'll remember she left she knife at home, and if we don't, we'll be more surprised when it's gone and then remember the reason why.

(Here's more on A Closer Look at Foreshadowing)

For overheard news, I like to mix in the important details with several other pieces of information. The protagonist doesn't just overhead the details she needs, but several things that fit the situation she finds herself in.

Sally walked into the trading post. Busy, which bode well for today's shopping trip. She elbowed her way through the gossiping crowd.

"Bunch of sixth graders took down a dragger if you can believe that."

"Told his wife he was headed up to Beggar's Canyon, but we didn't find him."

"Heard there was power down in Sante Fe if you had the cans for it."

She reached the counter. "Got any nine mils to trade?"

When Sally needs to know something's not right at Beggar's Canyon, she can remember this conversation. Or better, she walks into that canyon blind. If the reader remembers, they'll be extra worried because they'll know something's not right. But they won't expect it until she actually gets there or it becomes relevant to the story.

Are you telegraphing things that "will be important later?" Are there any foreshadowing moments you might take another look at now? 

*Originally published June 2012. Last updated April 2018.

Find out more about show, don't tell in my book, Understanding Show, Don't Tell (And Really Getting It).

With in-depth analysis, Understanding Show, Don't Tell (And Really Getting It) teaches you how to spot told prose in your writing, and discover why common advice on how to fix it doesn't always work. It also explores aspects of writing that aren’t technically telling, but are connected to told prose and can make prose feel told, such as infodumps, description, and backstory.

This book will help you:

• Understand when to tell and when to show
• Spot common red flag words often found in told prose
• Learn why one single rule doesn't apply to all books
• Determine how much telling is acceptable in your writing
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Understanding Show, Don't Tell (And Really Getting It) is more than just advice on what to do and what not to do—it’s a down and dirty examination and analysis of how show, don’t tell works, so you  can adapt the “rules” to whatever style or genre you’re writing. By the end of this book, you’ll have a solid understanding of show, don’t tell and the ability to use it without fear or frustration.

Available in paperback and ebook formats.

Janice Hardy is the award-winning author of the teen fantasy trilogy The Healing Wars, including The Shifter, Blue Fire, and Darkfall from Balzer+Bray/Harper Collins. The Shifter, was chosen for the 2014 list of "Ten Books All Young Georgians Should Read" from the Georgia Center for the Book.

She also writes the Grace Harper urban fantasy series for adults under the name, J.T. Hardy.

When she's not writing novels, she's teaching other writers how to improve their craft. She's the founder of Fiction University and has written multiple books on writing.

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