Bad writing for good reasons...

Not to be gross, but I just dumped a steaming load of pure exposition right in the middle of my killer snowman story. It completely killed my forward momentum—as surely as those blood-stained snowmen killed my mailman.

And I’m glad.

There was a time when I would’ve stopped myself mid-sentence and said, “Self, you can’t put a whole scene of exposition right here in the middle of your story.” And I would’ve been right. I also would’ve stopped writing, thought about it, thought about it some more, and then thought about it for a very long time—possibly forever. There’s a decent chance I never would’ve finished the story at all.

I’m better now.

I know the exposition is necessary—just not here, and not all at once. Once I’ve caused all the mayhem I want, maybe saved the day, or maybe (depending on my mood) ended the world via magic murder snowmen, I’ll come back to it.

I’ll break it up into small, bite-sized pieces. Some sprinkled early as foreshadowing. Some dropped in the middle as reminders. Some held back for the end to tie everything together. If I do it right, you—the reader—will get that soothing Rube Goldberg effect, where everything flows from beginning to end and clicks into a single, satisfying conclusion.

But first, I had to get that exposition out.