First off though, I have not read the novels (George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series), so everything I’m writing here pertains to the recent TV series. This is finished on Sky Atlantic for a good three weeks now, but if you missed it, I would definitely recommend catching it if it airs again.

World Showing

That Game of Thrones has a well-developed and interesting world is clear. It is absolutely packed with rich backstory. Absolutely nothing exists in isolation, but is part of a complicated web of relationships and histories.

How do I know this? It’s because the series showed me through current action, and because I concentrated quite a lot whilst watching it (more on that later).

So what am I not talking about when I talk about “showing” in this series?

Well I’m not talking about long explanatory monologues to make sure everyone is up to date with what’s going on (the laziest form of backstory delivery). And I’m not talking about flashbacks either (the laziest form of showing).

In the Now is in the Know

No, this showing takes place as the current story unfolds, in a steady drip-feed of information that complements the current action. It’s in the set (the Throne itself, or the dragon skulls in the dungeons), the costume, the behaviour of the characters (the duplicity of the king’s advisors or the warrior tribalism of the Dothraki).

But it’s in the dialogue that the fine line between too much information and too little is trodden most skilfully, and it’s that I want to focus on. The reason it is so successful is because it is natural.

Simply put, if two characters are talking and some point of history, recent or otherwise, is relevant to their conversation, they will mention it. Apart from that, no one goes out of their way to mention things that have happened or people they’ve known. That’s where the drip-feed comes from. After an episode finished, my wife would often complain that nothing had happened. But although most episodes lacked action set pieces, each one was packed with nuggets of information and what interested me when the credits rolled was not what had happened, but what I had learned about the world. Despite the many comparisons to big-budget movies in the media (largely due to the series’ phenomenal budget), it felt a lot more like watching a novel than a summer blockbuster.

The message Game of Thrones sends to writers then is to let their characters do the talking. As a writer, you know what the history of the world is, you know what each character knows and how they behave. Let them talk, or think or act, and the important parts of the backstory will come out by themselves. Don’t stop to worry if the reader is keeping up.

But is it as Simple as That?

Almost certainly not. For a start, dreaming up such a complex world is not simple in the first place. And I’m probably doing everyone involved a great disservice by saying that the world will reveal itself, as if it takes no effort on the writer’s part at all.

The truth is probably closer to dedicated crafting – taking out large chunks of explanatory dialogue or subtly adding bits over many drafts. I for one will be taking the approach of letting my characters show the backstory, and only adding more if my testing with readers shows it’s needed.

And it’s a fine line, isn’t it. Game of Thrones takes an unusual approach to that line. Normally you expect TV shows to err on the side of too much information, terrified of an audience becoming confused and switching off. Game of Thrones errs on the side of too little. If you are not familiar with the world, you will be confused at multiple points in the series (or per episode) – the raft of characters and relationships is just too much to keep track of.

But I would rather be occasionally confused than patronised. I trusted the writers to reveal the most important information, and I’m grateful they trusted me to keep up. I had a thoroughly intriguing and enjoyable time watching Game of Thrones and I for one can’t wait for series 2.

It's a hot seat. See what I did there? Courtesy of Dav

Why do I need a character backstory?

Let’s just go over, briefly, why that is so. Now it used to be that an author could spend pages describing a character and their history (or anything else for that matter. I remember reading a paragraph that lasted one whole page and was packed with dense description of a kitchen, or something. Not sure of the novel. Might have been Tess of the D’Urbervilles).

Not so these days. It’s the whole, “show, don’t tell” thing again. It’s considered much more effective to give an impression of the character through their actions and the way they perform them. Hints and clues. Less is more. This is a good thing as far as I’m concerned. Feel free to disagree of course, many do.

So it might be that a lot of the backstory of your character does not get put into words in your finished novel. Why should you bother developing one, then? I refer you to paragraph one. Writers often need something solid in their heads, or preferably written down, to get a real sense of the character’s motivations, and to know what they will do next. Armed with such priveledged knowledge, characters begin that process of “writing themselves” that we’ve all heard so much about.

So what’s this hotseat thing, then?

A few weeks back, I read a blog post that dealt with this issue. The author recommended a method I had used before, but not applied to writing.

As I commented at the time, this reminded me of drama lessons. The idea is based around interviewing a character. In the drama excercise, the actor sits in a chair in front of his or her peers. The actor is in character, having read the script and so armed with that knowledge.

They are then asked questions by the other people in the class and must improvise their character’s response. The idea is to fill in the gaps left by the script and gain greater insight into the character’s past and motivations, all of which can be brought to bear in performance.

In the writing exercise of course, you are both actor and questioner. It is your job to ask questions of your character, and also your job to respond as your character, by putting pen to paper. Again, you are improvising, or freewriting, and again, such freedom will give rise to unexpected events and reactions from your character. They will help make your character whole, and may even provide some future plot points for your story proper.

Some tips

Don’t be coy when asking questions. You want to ask those questions to which you don’t yet know the answer, otherwise, what’s the point? And to help keep the flow, why not write out the questions beforehand, so you don’t keep having to pause to think of a new one halfway through the process. If you think of new questions during the improvisation, well just ask them then and there, and answer them then and there. Just as long as you’re not interrupting yourself.

When the time comes to do the answering, take a moment to get yourself into character. Imagine a scene with them in it, and imagine how they behave from what you know of them so far. Then go for it! Make your character honest for this round of questions, even if they are not normally. You’ll get more out of it I’m sure.

Anyway, that gives you an idea of how it worked for me during drama classes, and what helped then. At the moment I’m concentrating on a short story, but I’ll run through this exercise myself as soon as I’m done. I’ll let you know how I got on, and I’d like you to do the same!