Exposition is Necessary

Not all writing is dialogue and action. There are times within a story when exposition and narrative are necessary. Even though you want to find ways to "show, not tell" as much as possible, following a character through their everyday life can provide insight into their behaviors, actions, and choices. Narration also helps the reader connect with the character and see them as a real person.

Before we get into today's writing sample, let's do a quick overview of the different writing modes of a story. There are a variety of writing modes that are used in a story, and there are different opinions on what the main ones are and how to use them. Here are a few of the key ones.

• Action - what the characters in the story are doing

• Description - using the five senses to engage the reader; paints a picture of a given moment or element

• Exposition - information and context that isn't directly available from the given scene

• Dialogue - what the characters are saying out loud

• Inner Monologue - the internal thoughts of the characters

Most of these writing modes fit into the overarching category of narration: the narrator communicating directly to the reader; includes both who tells the story and how the story is told. A story cannot be all dialogue. There have to be narrative components, but especially in thrillers, it is important to balance each component so as to keep up the pacing. Too much exposition, and your story will slow down.

As a change from some of my other writing samples, the following is a sample of straight narration. There is no dialogue and minimal action. We are given a look into the character's daily life so as to better understand her character and how she reacts to various situations in the story. This excerpt comes from an international political thriller I dabbled in, in which the character here, Cora, is part of Interpol and is tracking down a killer that is taking revenge on high-ranking officials across the globe that swept the assault of her grandmother under the rug.

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Agent Cora Georgiou was originally born in Germany, but she had been living in Istanbul for about six years at that time. She lived on the Asian side of the city, in Kadikoy, less touristy and more residential, but she made a habit of heading over to shop on the European side at least once per month. Saturday morning, she boarded the ferry for the European side, waiting for the stop by Mısır Çarşısı, the Egyptian Bazaar. As a local, she knew that the Bazaar was mostly for tourists. She knew where to go to get the best products, especially for a Turkish breakfast. After departing the ferry and walking toward the Bazaar, she veered to the right to head down Tahmis Sk. 

She browsed the selections of cheeses, spreads, and produce as she walked toward Hasırcılar Cd. There, on the corner, was her first stop, Kurukahveci Mehmet Efendi. Although she wouldn't need it until the afternoon, the freshly ground coffee was the best in town. She would have tea with breakfast, which she had become accustomed to during her time in Istanbul, but she knew she would want a cup of Turkish coffee in early afternoon on her apartment's small balcony, and she was almost out of grounds. The line formed at the window, veering down the block, but it moved quickly. She bought just a small bag--it's always best to have fresh grounds and not keep too much on hand.

After grabbing her grounds, before heading back to Tahmis Sk. for an assortment of meats and cheeses, she continued down Hasırcılar Cd. in search of honey, following the scent of the many spice vendors. She hoped to buy some honey from a small local vendor instead of having to resort to the overpriced stands in the Bazaar. As she walked down the alley, peering at each of the vendor selections, she couldn't help but stop at Özcan Tursu. This store was unique because it held only pickled items. She wasn't as fond of pickled vegetables as her Turkish friends—one of her friends was obsessed with the pickled eggs--but her curiosity got the better of her this time. She was amazed by all the jars on the walls, not to mention the overwhelming smell of vinegar in the air. She settled for a jar of pickled asparagus for her dinner with a colleague on Tuesday, and then returned to her honey search. 

After living in Istanbul for six years, she was surprised to find that the vendors didn't try to flag her down anymore. Apparently, she looked like a local instead of a tourist because no one yelled out to her in English or came up to her with items to haggle for.  She was able to walk calmly down the alley, not afraid to linger a little longer to view a certain item for fear of being approached by the vendor. She passed on two separate honey options before settling on her final selection--she preferred the ones made with wildflower that weren't as sweet. Instead of haggling, she paid full price, happy to support the smaller vendors, and then headed back toward Tahmis Sk. to grab a few more items before returning to the ferry.