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Working with a client earlier this week, we got an interesting piece of feedback. The author was unsure about a scene they'd written where one of their characters goes through a time jump as he learns to properly wield a sword. It was something of a surprise to learn from this client that there is a school of thought that looks down on the time jump.
This brief conversation led us to a thought: "huh, I guess time jumps and flashbacks are the same thing." Which inspired this post.
Time jumps and flashbacks: two sides of the same coin
If you're wondering why we're trying to combine two different things, consider this. A time jump is simple enough to understand: the narrative skips a prolonged period of time (months, years, lifetimes). The "why" a writer might choose this path is addressed below. Flashbacks are the same thing, only backwards. The narrative goes back to a time before the story began, or to a scene that wasn't visible to the storyteller's POV on the initial pass.
Let's imagine you have a manuscript with three chapters (A, B, C). In Chapter A, you have a character living his life as a little lordling. In Chapter B, your character has a sparring session with his instructor. In Chapter C, your character dusts off his trousers, puts on his best tuxedo, and goes to a ball.
Now let's say that you remove Chapter B. Your story goes A → C (it's not a span of months or years, but bear with me as I try to keep the example simple and clear); that is a time jump. If your character is in Chapter C and has a moment reflecting on his memories from the sparring circle, that is a flashback.
The snobby elite call it cheap, a shortcut that holds the reader's hand and makes the writer's job easier.
Here's why they're wrong.
Time jumps and flashbacks are not bugs and spiders. There is no reflexive hatred built into our DNA that says we must deny these literary tools. At ProjectK we had a little powwow to discuss. Broadly, there are only three narrative options when dealing with a time jump.
- Don't jump at all. Leave Chapter B in your story. This has a danger of adding bloat. If you were already considering chopping out a whole chapter, it probably doesn't have firm feet to stand on.
- Remove Chapter B, but leave tiny snippets in its place. If the character is training his swordsmanship, have a brief time lapse where he's training and getting better with each check-in. The danger here is that it can be repetitive. This is why shows and films use montages: the music is upbeat, the editing is sharp and snappy. This strategy is naturally risky, so you need to inject some fun or intrigue into the snippets.
- Remove Chapter B and don't leave any snippets. The danger here is that the reader now misses out on key plot or character moments that might have happened during the training.
Most professionals, and the team at ProjectK, would advocate for option 3. But now what? We have a gap in the story, and there's some important stuff in Chapter B that we need to include.
It sounds like the answer is "insert a flashback." ERR! Sorry, try again.
The asterisk
We believe that time jumps and flashbacks are perfectly good narrative tools. They are not cheap, and a great story can have both. However, we do have conditions in which we don't suggest the use of a flashback. If the scene being flashed back upon occurred during the time in which the story is taking place, that is a no-no. You don't want your reader to say: "if you're going to just flash back to Chapter B after skipping it, you shouldn't have skipped it in the first place."
The exception to this is if the locations are different. If one character is in New York and another is in Tokyo, it's acceptable for a flashback to go back and see what the Tokyo character was doing during this time. We would say this is even preferred if you're trying to keep your plot beats crisp. Better to keep the plot moving and flash back for the other character than to have two chapters happening in parallel at opposite sides of the world.
Back to the problem
We identified Chapter B as an opportunity to trim the fat. We cut it out, but there are some key details we need to communicate. This reveals the bonus-round danger to option 3: show, don't tell.
While we advocate option 3, it has its own risks. Show, don't tell warrants its own post (it's coming, don't worry), but simply put, we cannot tell the reader outright what they need to know; we need to show it to them organically through the story. It can feel like educational material preaching against show-don't-tell isn't very helpful, and that is because more complex problems have complex solutions. If you have a complex problem that you're currently telling instead of showing, reach out and we'd love to give you some quick advice to solve your issue.
To expand on the example, let's say the character developed two pieces of information in Chapter B. One, the character learned to parry a low strike, which he had struggled with in the past. Two, the character had a PTSD-like response to the colour orange, and resolved this fear by being repeatedly exposed to orange by his instructor.
Our solution
The first detail is much easier. Simply start Chapter C with the character achieving his end state for that problem. The chapter starts with him performing the parry on the low strike. The instructor gives him a nod and says something like: "Good. Much better. Just one month ago I would have taken your ankles out with that." The reader is more forgiving of telling instead of showing if it is present in dialogue.
Alternatively, you can start Chapter C with the character in his room. He's changing into his tux, and new muscles are aching from the work. The low parry has him working his back in ways he hadn't before. This is more overt and drifts into telling, not showing, but it keeps the prose interesting.
The second detail is a challenge; it requires new variables. Our approach would suggest an antagonizing character pokes at our character during the ball. He puts on an orange outfit knowing it will disorientate our character. When our character is unfazed, there can be a brief dialogue exchange:
"So the rumours are true." "Indeed. I'm cured." The antagonizing character frowns. "Do you have any idea how much an orange tuxedo costs? Mother still hasn't seen the receipt yet; she's going to kill me." "Thank the swordmaster. The old man figured he'd kill two birds with one stone."
This demonstrates that the character had a problem with the colour orange, that it has been resolved, and that the instructor was responsible.
In conclusion
Don't fear time jumps and flashbacks. Use them, but use them well. If they're used poorly, they are clearly cheap and become a red flag for a critical reader.
Make sure that if you blitz through the chapter with snippets, you keep it interesting and avoid repetition. If you cut the chapter out entirely, ensure you don't just tell the reader the important details they missed - show them.
If you are going to use a flashback, ensure that it isn't in a time and place the POV storyteller would have been in anyway. If you violate this rule, it feels like a massive case of telling, not showing, even if you write the scene competently.