Being a Better Writer: The Prologue · 7:39pm Jan 29th, 2014
Today we're tackling one of the most misunderstood (at least on this site) literary tools in the writer's arsenal: the prologue.
The question of "what is a prologue?" seems to come up quite a bit in various group forums on this site, and unfortunately I can tell you now that pretty much everything that's been posted in response to those threads is almost always wrong. For instance, a prologue is not a substitute for the first chapter of a work. You do not title your first chapter "The Prologue" and then "start" with chapter 2. This is not what a prologue is. Nor is it the chapter in which you introduce your main character. Nor the chapter where you reveal your plot hook (separate from a narrative hook, a subject for another blog post).
No, a prologue isn't any of those things. A prologue is actually an introduction, one designed to introduce your reader to a large world and help set the scope of what's to come. For example, the scrolling text at the beginning of each of the Star Wars films is a quick-and-dirty example of a prologue. Each one catches the viewer up on relevant background information and little bits about the universe that you wouldn't have known otherwise, and then sends them on their way.
This is the true purpose of the prologue: to establish a setting and give background details relevant to the world your work takes place in, along with some of the core themes and elements that will come up over the course of that story. Which is why a prologue is often found in larger, more epic-scale works. As the scale of the work and plot grows, the more the reader must be introduced to in order to understand the impact of later events. Each of the Wheel of Time books, for example, starts with a rather lengthy prologue (some that are more than ten thousand words) that cover viewpoints and characters not ever seen again or only vaguely referenced once the main story starts. These prologues serve as a situational primer for each book, introducing the audience to the current background of the world, and thus shaping the readers expectation of what the world is like before moving into the journey of the heroes through that world.
There was a concept there that some of you may take issue with: the idea that a prologue does not need to feature the main characters. There are some who hold that a main character must be introduced as quickly as possible, and that a prologue must also introduce that character, or it is not a prologue.
This view is not correct.
While a prologue can contain a main character, more often than not, it doesn't. If it does, it's usually in some past form, set years before the main story in order to introduce an aspect of the world as much as it is the character. A prologue is not about meeting the hero. It's about introducing a setting and establishing the pieces that will go into the main characters journey—pieces that often are outside of the characters control. Hence why most prologues are from an altogether different viewpoint than the main character. There are prologues that star the heroes mentor, set years before the events of the main story. There are prologues that are carefully constructed history texts or newspapers, designed to cleverly drop puzzle pieces into the readers lap (this is also a way to give the reader a clue without having the viewpoint character explain it if said clue occurs in a newspaper or written work). There are prologues that are excerpts from characters—side or main—private journals (these usually lean towards building the theme of the work rather than the world). There are prologues that are from the point of view of background characters, or even the villains themselves. A prologue can be almost anything, as long as it accomplishes its purpose.
So, setting out to write a prologue? First, consider if your work actually needs one. The shorter your work, the less chance you need one. Writing a short story? Forgeddaboutit. Writing a novella? Almost certainly no. A novel? A bit more likely. The basic rule is this: will your work be enhanced by something that serves only to establish theme, introduce the world, and scatter clues about the overall plot? Are these elements small enough that you can work them into the story of the character itself, or do they require their own backdrop in order to be appreciated and understood? Will the story be enriched by presenting them on their own? Will it assist the reader in their appreciation of early events or give them something to look for before the main character? If so, then you have good cause to write a prologue.
Just remember some of the core purposes of a prologue:
—Introduce the world of your story and establish background in terms of what the world is actually like on a day-to-day basis rather than a lecture of names. For example, in one of the prologues to a fantasy epic that I'm constructing, the prologue follows the journey of a letter through the Imperial Postal Service. Along the way not only does the reader learn the size of the empire (by how long it takes a letter to get from place to place) but also about the empire itself (the service has almost NEVER lost a letter, quite possibly because the penalty for such is death—which is telling in and of itself about what the empire values).
—Give the reader a theme of some kind. "Rise," for example, starts with Princess Celestia and Luna sharing some quality time together as family while discussing the world, one of the core themes of the story is family. The Drizzt series start with a journal entry, almost always the main character musing over some theme that will form the core of the adventure.
—Drop hints and information towards what is to come. I like to call these puzzle pieces. Little bits of information and foreshadowing that may not make sense for hundreds of pages yet, but give the reader something to think about and look for while reading through the chapters before the inciting incident. Throughout the story, these will suddenly "fit" and give the reader a grand "aha" moment. The Way of Kings for example, has a prologue to each of it's three parts, each of which is absolutely filled with puzzle pieces. None of these puzzle pieces are directly referenced again, but an astute reader who pays attention and remembers the pieces given will soon find places for the them in the main narrative, pieces to mysteries that the main characters don't have.
—Include your narrative hook. That first line is important. The plot hook, not so much. The plot hook can appear in the prologue, but often is saved for the end of the first chapter. But the narrative hook? Since the prologue will be read first, have a narrative hook.
A well-written prologue will entertain your reader and send them into the story armed with a bit of foreknowledge and a greater understanding of the world they've just been dropped into. It can offer tantalizing hints of what's to come, grant the reader access to otherwise inaccessible viewpoints, and ease the reader into an otherwise complex, difficult-to-navigate setting. Craft a well-written prologue and your reader will have things to think about, plot to consider even before the inciting incident.
It isn't always needed, but when called for, a prologue is a powerful tool in the writers toolbox.
Nice analysis.
Can you offer your thoughts on prologues as hooks? I.e., opening with a giant climactic swordfight that you return to in Chapter 23 after hundreds of pages of world and character building?
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Ah, the classic "in medias res" introduction. Literally Latin for "in the midst of things."
This is the kind of prologue more commonly seen with action-adventure works rather than epics, although there are plenty of exceptions to this. An in medias res prologue does follow the rules of prologues: it introduces the theme (and the theme is action), extends promises on what's to come (action) and hints at storyline elements (such scenes are usually slightly vague in order to giving away the plot, but an attentive reader will quickly single out who is who and what's going on).
However, you usually see this as something to start an action-adventure. Not always, but usually. Because while it's thrilling, it also tends to be narrow in focus. Epics by nature have a very wide focus, so they tend to do less of these. They may still have action, but it often takes place beforehand or in a place distantly related that slowly ties back over the course of the story.
Still, especially if you're writing action-adventure, the in action prologue is a solid hook, serving as both a narrative hook and usually a plot hook. It delivers exactly what the genre expects.
Another thoroughly informative post. I almost feel bad having to thank you, yet again. I get thanked too many times for something, and it starts to grate on me, to feel like meager platitudes.
Well, I guess on top of helping me to be a better writer, you've given me a valuable viewpoint into why other people thank me.
So, thank you! Uh, I mean...
Well, you get the point.
Horizon brings up an interesting point of discussion, though:
What's the difference between a hook in the prologue, if you include one, and one included in the first chapter or two? Is it just that a prologue makes a better vehicle for a narrative hook, freer of plot concerns? Is it that the prologue speaks better to the overarching plot than something that may just be a recurring theme, or something isolated to a certain book in an extended series? Is it possible for a story to have multiple "prologues", but for them to avoid being named as such because of their placement in the story?
To reference The Way of Kings, for example, the first time we're introduced to Kaladin, he's leading his squad to an apparent glorious victory, and being terribly heroic and all protagonist-like in the process. The next time we see him, he's—well, spoilers—decidedly in a less heroic position. To make matters worse (or better, since Sanderson has apparently developed teasing the reader into an art form), the reader doesn't actually find out what becomes of that initial battle, and why Kaladin found himself in such unfortunate circumstances, until much later in the book.
By all rights, the segment involving Kaladin's introduction would make a decent prologue for The Way of Kings. Hell, so would Szeth's first appearance. In the larger scheme of things, however, doing so wouldn't serve the series as a whole; the actual prologue is something that is seemingly completely unrelated to everything in the story until much, much later, and Sanderson is still reticent in providing clear information, probably because he still has nine more books with which to do so in the future. Robert Jordan, on the other hand, generally tends to keep his Wheel of Time prologues specific to the books they appear in.
Goddammit, I'm blathering again. Never did learn the value of succinctness. Or articulateness. Or being unstupid.
I'll cut to the point: What you're saying is that a prologue is a hook that introduces the story's world, while saving the characters for later?
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Hooks (narrative and plot) are something that'll be the subject for the next blog post, actually. Look for that next week, because I'm going to dig into it a little and hopefully clear up the confusion (a lot of people have the mistaken assumption that it's one hook serving two purposes even in review threads on this site, which is incorrect). It should be a very helpful post.
You're right with you're example, though, you could use Kaladin's introduction as a prologue, as it does follow the pattern for one (it's set long beforehand, introduces his theme, etc), but it would only serve his story. With a prologue written specifically for an epic, you're trying to introduce the world and theme of the work as a whole. Kaladin's introduction is a good introduction to what his theme is, as well as his portion of the world, but not for the rest of the events. So you're entirely right with that. The prologue as is serves as an introduction to everything, with little bits that tie the whole plot together, not just Kaladin's.
Not always. If The Way of Kings was almost entirely about Kaladin, then using him in the introduction would be just fine. Think of it this way: a prologue will set the scope of the world your reader is about to enter. If your prologue focuses on one character and his events, and then the story starts three years later, still following that specific character and his events (rather than the events around him), you've established a narrow scope. The story is about this character.
But in, say, "Rise," you have a prologue that starts with two rulers discussing the political and economic climate of their nation, as well as ending a discussion on the ramifications of establishing a new military division. You get a bit of theme (at the start and end of the prologue, they're simply enjoying one another's family time), some broad discussion of the points that go into the antagonist's story (economic power, railway, political power), and some broad discussion of what becomes the more immediate story (the formation of a new Guard division that forms that first two acts of the story. You don't meet the main characters. And that sets the scope. Rather than a tightened focus on one particular character, without interest in events past their immediate surroundings, the prologue has established that you're going to be looking at events from a wider viewpoint (something fairly unique to epic literature).
There's no set "rule" though. As with a lot of things in writing, this is a sliding scale from one side to the other.
Does that help?
1779145 Help? You had me at,
Immensely helpful, a thousand gratitudes shoveled your way, and most importantly, thank you. Again.
Unless repetitive appreciation aggravates you, in which case I'll buy you a mostly toothed whore or something the next time you pass through my town.