BACK TO (AND FROM) THE FUTURE

by John M. Floyd

I’ve always enjoyed reading traditional fiction. To me, “traditional” means that an interesting character leaves his routine world to face a problem that becomes steadily more complicated until he finds a way to solve it. A simple structure, start to finish: beginning, middle, end. And since those are usually the kinds of stories I like to read, they’re usually the kind I like to write.

Some fiction doesn’t follow that path—at least not chronologically. While the typical writer tells a story in the order that the events occur, the more daring writer mixes things up a bit. The result can be a novel like It, Catch-22, South of Broad, Ulysses, or Slaughterhouse-Five, or a movie like Vantage Point, Forrest Gump, Memento, Before the Devil Knows You’re Dead, Mulholland Drive, Once Upon a Time in America, Bandits, or Pulp Fiction. (Although I’ve not yet seen it, I’ve heard that Inception is another good example.)

There Was a Crooked Plan

This isn’t just a quirky method by adventurous writers and directors like Vonnegut or Lynch or Tarantino. It’s a system that, when done well, works well.

The advantage of non-linear storylines is obvious: the reader/viewer gets an early glimpse of future events before they happen, or maybe a peek into the past. This can be a good way to build tension and suspense—suddenly we know things the main character doesn’t—or to explain the reasons certain things happen as they do. (Consider the many flashback and flash-forward episodes in the TV series Lost.) And in the case of Pulp Fiction, the non-linear structure also adds a delicious shock value, since you often don’t even know until later that what you’re seeing is happening in the future or the past.

The disadvantage of this kind of story is also obvious: unless the writer knows his craft, the reader can get lost. And a lost reader/viewer isn’t usually happy. (Even if he’s watching Lost.)

Directions and Misdirections

Be aware that I’m not talking here about stories that include an occasional flashback or a prologue or a piece of backstory. Those are generally so brief that the main storyline stays intact.

I’m also not talking about “framed” stories like The Green Mile or Vanishing Point (not to be confused with Vantage Point) or The Princess Bride. Technically these are also non-linear since they start off with a present-day setting and a character (or narrator) telling another character (or the audience) about a story that happened entirely in the past, and then ends up in the present again, at or after the point of highest tension; but such “bookended” stories are still more traditional than experimental. The non-linear stories I’m referring to are the ones that bounce around throughout, or—like Memento—actually travel in reverse.

Risky Business

Which approach is better—linear or non? Like so many other literary questions, the answer depends on the story itself. Some are more suited than others to a straight-from-here-to-there timeline. My opinion? Even though I’ve published a few short stories that slingshot the characters back and forth in time, I honestly think most stories should be told chronologically unless there’s a sound reason not to. And yes, I realize that can be like always playing in the shallow end of the pool—but it also reduces the chances of drowning. When it comes to pleasing or confusing the reader, color me cautious.

What are your thoughts on non-linear stories, novels, and films? Do you like them? If so, which ones? If you’re a writer, have you tried this approach in your own work?

And if you don’t like non-linear stories at all, I have only one word for you:

Rosebud.