My 40th high school reunion took place this week about 400 miles away. I didn’t attend. So I had a virtual reunion the following day: at home, in my sweats, looking at Facebook photos of people I haven’t seen for years. I recognized many of the women and almost none of the men, who seemed to have sent their middle aged fathers in their places.
I was deeply affected by a collection of photo booth pictures in which alums posed with spouses or besties from high school. I scrolled through the friends arm in arm and wondered aloud, “Were they actually best friends in high school? I don’t remember them even hanging out together.”
The more I scrolled, the more disoriented I felt. Then I got on the phone with my high school best friend, who had gone to the event, and she identified some of the unknowns and we chatted about who was there and who hung out together. She clued me in to some of the long term friendships I had missed, which was most of them.
I started obsessing about those friendships that had escaped my notice. Then I wondered why I couldn’t stop thinking about them. I blamed my own myopic nature for missing the connections around me as I grew up. I felt dull and unaware. I wondered if I still was.
What does this have to do with writing? you ask.
Relationships are everything in storytelling. I’ve been putting a lot of effort into establishing relationships in my main character’s family, his classmates and the people in his small village. But I haven’t thought much about the relationships in the background: how his brothers felt about each other, or how they feel about the kids down the road. Or whether or not my character’s mother has a friend in the village. I’ve kept my spotlight shined only on my main character and thus others stay in the dark, waiting only to come on stage when they are needed.
But now I can imagine a richer world. My character’s brothers could be competing over the affections of the same girl. His mother might feel alienated and lonely in the village, with no one to trade with or gossip with. His father could have a temper that the nearest neighbor witnesses, but keeps secret. His teacher may love the candle maker.
The best books have a thick web of connections, not all of which are directly related to the main character. Each new possibility offers new small plot contributions, denser air around the central story.
What are the unseen connections in your novel? How could you rethink the background relationships in your story? Perhaps what you haven’t paid attention to matters more than you think.