Your book is always far longer than the words that make it onto the page. Whether you outline extensively before the first draft or let the story guide you as you’re writing, every well-rounded character has events in their past, personality traits, and relationships with those around them that you’ll learn as you go—and that the reader should come to understand as the book progresses. In this installment of her guest series, book coach Rona Gofstein offers advice on how to explain what happened before without slowing down the pacing or shifting focus away from what’s happening now.


Every memorable character has a past. Although you’ve chosen a specific time to start your novel, your main character has likely had experiences that have happened before the story began that have shaped their fears, desires, beliefs, and traits, both positively and negatively. This history gives characters emotional depth and authenticity. And when readers understand a character’s past, their reactions in the present feel more real and more meaningful.

Most writers know far more about their characters than readers ever will. The challenge for many isn’t creating backstory—it’s deciding how to reveal it without overwhelming the reader or slowing down the plot. This leads to one of the most common questions writers ask me as a book coach: How do I include character backstory without stopping the flow of the story?

My answer is simpler than you might think. The key to providing backstory is to remember that the reader only needs to know what is happening for a character at a given moment. Always stay in the present, and let the backstory come out when it is triggered by something happening now. 

No matter how intricate a past you’ve created—sometimes that additional level of detail can be helpful during the drafting phase—readers don’t need a character’s full biography. Including this can end up sounding like an info dump, which I’ve written about in a previous article in this series. What will pull them in and keep them turning pages is the emotional impact of the past on the present. They want to experience how that past influences the character’s goals and the choices they make as the story unfolds.

Maybe your heroine refuses to travel by airplane no matter how long the trip. Maybe your hero flinches when someone raises their voice. Maybe a character avoids a certain place in town. When this happens, that’s the moment to offer an explanation. 

Here’s an example: 

“What do you mean you’re going to drive to Colorado?” Jane asked me. “That’s two days away. At least.”

I didn’t know what to say. How could I explain that I’d rather not give the keynote speech than set foot in an airport, let alone on a plane, no matter how important this was for my career? I never spoke of Jason. He was my past, and I needed him to stay there.

Aren’t you curious? 

Think of a character’s backstory like seasoning in cooking. A little sprinkled over the main ingredient enhances the dish. Dumping the entire spice jar into the pot? Not so good. Early in the story, a character might show an unexpected reaction to something. Later, the narration may hint at a past experience. Later still, the full story could come out in a moment of emotional vulnerability, when the character is either faced with the pain of their past or is finally ready to let it go. Just as adding seasoning at different stages of cooking deepens the flavor of a dish, each layer of backstory deepens the reader’s understanding without interrupting the forward momentum of the story.

This reveal can be one of the best and most impactful ways to create emotionally charged moments between characters. A character shouldn’t sit down and explain their past—we don’t even do this in real life, usually. Instead, pieces of their history will naturally surface when emotions are high, such as during a quiet conversation, an argument, or a moment of unexpected trust. When your character’s backstory is tied to emotion, it feels meaningful rather than informational. It reveals more about the character and makes the reader understand and care more.

The purpose of revealing backstory isn’t to document everything that happened in the character’s life. It’s to help the reader understand why the character makes the choices they do. When deciding what backstory to include, and when to include it, ask yourself:

  • What experience shaped this character’s greatest fear?
  • What moment created the belief they hold about themselves?
  • What memory still influences their decisions today?

Reveal these when that fear comes up for them, when their belief is challenged, and when the memory keeps them from acting or forces them to act quickly. And if you’re unsure whether a piece of backstory belongs in a scene, ask: Does this information increase tension in the present story or reveal something that moves the character forward? If it does, it’s likely worth including. 

When backstory is revealed with intention and restraint, it allows readers to understand more and invites them to keep turning the page in order to discover what happened in the past—and how that character will ultimately overcome it.


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