Using Scene and Exposition
Scene uses specific and concrete details to recreate (or extend) experience. Nonfiction writers use the same tools as fiction writers to build scenes: description, dialogue, vivid imagery that draws on the five senses, and details to reveal setting (a strong sense of places and times) and character (we see how individuals speak or act).
- What are the strengths of scene? It makes experience immediate, putting us there through concrete details. It can allow for a deeper emotional attachment on the part of the reader. And leaves room for interpretation on the reader’s part, so we’re more active readers.
Exposition can be useful forfilling in bits of information or background the reader needs to understand. Two common types of exposition that storytellers use aresummary and reflection:
- Summarygives us basic facts about an event without detail. It can be a quick way to give us important background, to connect different scenes, or to let us know something that you don’t want to spend a lot of time on (so you can direct our attention elsewhere). Be careful though: Too much of it robs scene of its power and immediacy.
- Reflectionoffers the writer’s thoughts on the significance of what is happening, and it invites the reader to consider it along with you. It can be a powerful way to dig deeper, beneath the surface of a story, and to communicate an idea that the reader might otherwise miss. But be very careful about overusing reflection—if the reader can infer something from a scene, saying it is redundant and kills the immediacy of your writing. Also steer clear of generalized reflective statements. Instead, ground them in specific details.
Both summary and reflection condense time (unlike scene, which represents time or extends it).
Good writers understand the power of scenes, with their vivid and specific details. For this reason, most story tellers follow the classic advice: Show, don’t tell.
Or, to put it another way (in a quote attributed to Anton Chekhov):
“Don’t tell me the moon is shining; show me the glint of light on broken glass.”
Example #1:
On my fourteenth birthday, my mother and I had a terrible fight and I said some awful things to her.
Example #2:
“I understand how you feel,” my mother lied. “You’re just like I was at your age.”
My mother had a knack for speaking words that made it sound like she was giving in, when they were only reinforcing her point: she was right and I was wrong.
“I don’t want to be like you,” I hissed. “I never did.”
Her expression froze for an instant. It was as if I’d slapped her. One hand went to her hip and the other seemed to reach behind her for the wall, as if she were steadying herself. I wondered if she was remembering a four-year-old me drawing pictures in which the two of us walked hand in hand, wearing identical outfits. Or maybe she was just gathering herself up for a new attack. In that moment, I simply turned and walked away from the bright living room, down the dark hallway to my room, slamming the door behind me. She didn’t follow.
Because of its strengths, you should definitely use scenes as you develop memoirs. But you should also learn when a bit of summary might be needed to direct the reader’s attention or move things along. And you should consider whether we need to hear the writer’s reflective voice.
There’s no magic formula for calculating how much scene and how much exposition to use. It depends on the style of the writer, and on the subject you’re writing about. If you are writing about events over time, for example, you will need more summary (since you can’t offer every single detail) than if you’re writing about a single moment where you can focus on the details.