Writing for the Re-Reader: Indirect Foreshadowing
Packing your novel with layers for a reader to uncover
As a reader, there is nothing I love more than diving back into a book and going, Oh. How did I not notice this? The clue was there the whole time?!
As a writer, this is what I want to emulate. I not only want readers to come back for new books — I want them to dive into old ones and discover something new each time they read. Some little detail that evaded them. A hint at the ending, a parallelism. For me, there is no greater compliment than, “I’ll never tire of re-reading your books!”
When it comes to the craft of this, I consciously focus on three things: foreshadowing, self-referential Easter eggs, and callbacks. In the first article in this series, we’re going to look at foreshadowing. Specifically, how indirect foreshadowing primes a re-reader for delight.
Foreshadowing
Of the three items that combine to make for a good re-read, foreshadowing is probably the most well-known. After all, foreshadowing is required for a satisfactory first read, too. As Jami Gold mentions in the linked article, foreshadowing is, essentially, hinting at what’s to come. It happens in two ways: directly and indirectly.
While this is simplifying things, direct foreshadowing most specifically benefits the reader. Indirect foreshadowing is a playground for the re-reader.
Direct foreshadowing
Direct foreshadowing means the reader knows something is coming, and waiting for it, or seeing how it will play out, develops suspense. In my enchantress book, some examples of direct foreshadowing include:
- References to an upcoming ball. This is a ticking clock moment for Celeste, so whenever it’s directly brought up in the text, it should make a reader nervous about if she’ll be ready in time.
- Celeste knows, a few weeks in advance, that another enchantress has been procured to train her. Readers know this will change the trajectory of the story, and wait for the tutor to arrive.
- The prologue, which is thus written in hindsight of the events of the book. The first line is “In retrospect, the rose was a mistake,” which foreshadows first that there will be a rose and second that it was a mistake. Questions should then be raised about what happened to the rose and why it was a mistake.
Direct foreshadowing gives a reader something to anticipate — or something to dread — as the story unfolds. Indirect foreshadowing, meanwhile, lays invisible bricks for the reader, and gives the re-reader the glasses through which to see them.
Indirect foreshadowing
As noted by Jami Gold (bold emphasis mine),
Indirect foreshadowing uses subtlety, subtext, and/or misdirection to hide the story’s future, with the truth becoming clear only in hindsight.
That last phrase — that indirect foreshadowing is only clear in hindsight — is what makes indirect foreshadowing the perfect tool for enticing a re-reader.
We’re going to dive into one scene to look at how I revised the first chapter of my enchantress book to be a miniature of the third plot point of the book. (We will talk about first chapters, John Truby’s miniatures, and third plot points in more detail soon.)
In the scene below, Celeste is looking for a birthday present for her brother, the bastard son of the king, in a small village near the chateau where they live. She’s visited under the guise of a peasant, hoping not to be discovered for who she is.
I’ve added parenthetical numbers (akin to footnotes but not linked as such) to show how indirect foreshadowing is at play in this scene.
“If you have enough pocket money, this may do,” Travers said as they entered the shop. “Nothing practical here, but if your brother appreciates beauty…”
Celeste walked in first, Travers following her. Unlike the tailor and the bakery and the other practical shops they had entered, this one was dedicated to the arts. Watercolor landscapes hung on the wall, framed in gilded gold. A master at work, truly, and Celeste had both the taste and the exposure to know so for certain. But they would not do for a prince who had a da Vinci original in his private quarters.
On the shelves were music boxes and jewelry boxes of various sizes, painted in bright colors, with gold accents and levers. She moved closer to inspect them and a kindly middle-aged man came to her shoulder. “They’re gold-coated brass, dear, if that affects your opinion on prices.”
She hadn’t even reached for the price tags yet. The nearest one, a simple music box about the size of her palm with a dancing ballerina, would cost about a quarter of the fortune in her purse. (1) It wasn’t enough. Not for work this beautiful, even if only gold-plated.
“Forgive my asking plainly, sir, but why sell these in a simple village? For prices like these? A master as you are belongs in Paris, with nobility to pay you what you’re worth.”
His smile pulled at the apples in his cheeks, eliciting a flurry of futures that bustled around him, none of them leaving the village. “The nobility are a hassle. No one and nothing is worth weaving myself into their games.” (2)
Celeste swallowed. Her mother taught her differently, although perhaps it was different for men, who could choose to take up influence like a winter jacket, lying it down again if it no longer suited them. “These are lovely,” she said. “While I would be happy with one, I don’t think you have a present my brother would appreciate.”
Again Celeste felt the pointlessness of her search. However, looking once more at Travers, the journey seemed far from pointless. For whatever reason, the scientist would join her at her brother’s chateau because Celeste came to the village today. (3)
A girl of about twelve seemed to materialize just then, having actually stood up from a corner, holding a book. (4) Her hair was pulled simply away from her face, and her petticoat had nothing special to adorn it. For the daughter of a merchant of luxuries, she expected them to be closer to affluent. Although perhaps her dress was simply practical. Among the French nobility, practicality in dress was nearly a faux pas.
“If your brother isn’t interested in trinkets, might a book be more to his taste?”
“You don’t have to sell from your private collection,” her father said, but the girl’s very demeanor shook off his reproof.
“I’ve read them all a hundred times.”
“If you’re sure…” The girl did not wait for further approval, but reached unhesitatingly to Celeste and took her hand, leading her to a back room where about fifteen volumes lined a shelf. They were older, the spines creased. Every book Celeste browsed had cut pages, each of them well-worn as well.
“All these books came from the prince himself, from his personal library,” she said reverently. “Although,” she added, “I cut the pages on most of them myself.”
As much as her brother loved books, then, she could not buy one. They were his cast-offs to begin with. This girl would give up her most prized possessions for some money, or to please Celeste’s brother she had never met, who could never be pleased by such an offering.
“I can’t thank you enough for your generosity in offering these to me, but they will not do.”
“Why not?” Travers said, looking through one of the volumes. “These are some of the best books written this century! And a copy of Richard III in French, as well. I’ve always wanted to read that English playwright.”
“He already has it,” Celeste said. (5) She remembered, now, when he had gone through his library, removing duplicates and books he considered not valuable enough for him to waste his time reading.
Now, to break down the indirect foreshadowing.
- The nearest one, a simple music box about the size of her palm with a dancing ballerina, would cost about a quarter of the fortune in her purse.
Celeste will come back and buy this music box later for a girl staying at the castle. It’s a gesture of friendship that comes back to haunt them both, setting into motion the events of the third plot point.
2. “The nobility are a hassle. No one and nothing is worth weaving myself into their games.”
This is the theme stated, or the lesson our protagonist needs to learn. It comes to us by way of someone who knows the nobility and realizes that the schemes they involve themselves in aren’t worth it. Celeste will find herself wrapped into a number of schemes, soon. She probably should have listened.
3. For whatever reason, the scientist would join her at the chateau because Celeste came to the village today.
On the surface, this looks like direct foreshadowing. That’s because it is. Travers the scientist will arrive at the chateau during the story. However, this is also indirect foreshadowing. Unknowingly, this is the closest Celeste has ever been to understanding how her magic works. It doesn’t happen again until her magic is explained fully in the last act.
4. A girl of about twelve seemed to materialize just then, having actually stood up from a corner, holding a book.
Meet Belle! Celeste’s brother Adam is fourteen when my story starts, so I made his future love interest — if this story were Beauty and the Beast canon, which it is not — a few years younger and characteristically herself. When I first wrote the book, I was paying attention to how the enchantress in the 2017 Beauty and the Beast live-action remake seemed to choose Belle for the journey to the chateau. This meeting regarding Belle’s books and her kindness and willingness to share them is the spark I decided on that specifies why her, years later.
This is an interesting kind of writing for the re-reader, because it’s likely noticeable on a first read to anyone who’s made the connection between my story and that source material. I’m the kind of person who likes being able to read things for the second time the first time, though — that is, I like spoilers — so I hope it works well.
5. “And a copy of Richard III in French, as well…” “He already has it,” Celeste said.
Of course, this is partially just a reference to Adam’s love for books. He cast away a duplicate, not the one he loves. As direct foreshadowing, we’ll catch him reading it later. But it’s also the book Celeste quotes to him at the climactic moment, to prove she is who she says she is.
In less than a thousand words, we’ve set up, indirectly, every major plot point of the book. (I didn’t make notes on all of them.) The first three introduce us to the set pieces we will need for the third plot point.
The music box is not only an important item at that point, but it becomes a symbol representing a character we won’t meet for another 100 pages. In this way, she’s embedded into (that is to say, foreshadowed in) the first chapter, without us even knowing her.
The schemes of the nobility are going to get Celeste into the mess that culminates in that All Is Lost moment at the third plot point, and, for our intents and purposes, Celeste is nobility. She’ll be joining the schemers soon enough, despite this offhanded remark warning her not to.
And Travers’ arrival at the chateau is going to set up a debate between magic and science, duty and love, and power and justice, that culminates in the third plot point. For the last time, just before that point, Celeste will have a choice to choose love and science — to disbelieve in her magic enough to believe the future isn’t set in stone.
In this way, we prepare the re-reader to see the bread crumbs dropped along the trail, bread crumbs that had always been there, perhaps doing nothing but getting crunched along the bottom of a first reader’s shoe.
Next, we will look at how to choose which information to withhold — and hint at — to sate a re-reader’s desire for delight and discovery.
If you like my work and would like to read more of it, consider joining Medium with my referral link to get full access to every article on Medium. Using my referral link doesn’t cost you anything extra, but half of the fee goes directly to supporting me each month.