Exposition

It's the silent killer!
Better begin with what exposition is:

The introductory material which gives the setting, creates the tone, presents the characters, and presents other facts necessary to understanding the story.

Or, in other words, it's when we describe something or provide some information.

Permit me to conjure a metaphor:
Take a few moments to picture your favourite meal.
(Or use this one I prepared earlier :o)

Okay, you've got that in your head? You're not overly concerned about the plate are you?
Exposition is a plate.
Without it, the food slops onto the floor. But nobody cares much for that plate - they care for the food!
The weak writer will devote much time to decorating that plate. He'll embellish it with flourishes and gold leaf, and possibly stud the rim with little pearly beads.

So why is this such a problem to so many writers? Why is it so hard to understand this point and to put it into practise?
I can suggest a few reasons.

First, it's easy to mistake exposition for food. So let's take a look at what constitutes food:

* That man bursting into the burning building to rescue his daughter is a nice piece of tender lamb.
* That magical, long-anticipated kiss between Bob and Brenda is a beautiful fillet of fish.
* That daring, pulse-racing escape through the sewers is a delicious chicken madras.
* When Roger betrays his best friend, well that's a super, sizzling stir-fry.

However, that tie Roger wears is a flourish on a plate, and so is that weird-looking tree and that fluffy cloud shaped like a pair of maracas.

A second thing that encourages exposition is fear.
It's a difficult and emotional business writing Molly's death and John's cowardice and Sandra's affair. It's so much harder than describing that mossy rooftop.
When the stakes are low, there's little to be lost.
But when the stakes are high, it can be disturbing, distressing, difficult and dangerous. So the writer might noodle in his comfort zone, beating around the bush, forever holding the good but painful stuff at arm's length, afraid of untainted honesty and the truths it reveals.

Filling that plate with food is a challenge in itself.
It requires an inexhaustible imagination and a keen eye for composition.
It requires an understanding of the reader's heart - and of your own.
And hiding that exposition requires skill. Rather than stopping to dump a pile of info onto the reader's lap (telling), a strong writer is able to impart information through shows that blend imperceptibly into the forward momentum. You gotta be a smart cookie to pull it off; you gotta be looking at that scene, studying it, searching for places to subtly secrete that information or that detail.

Minimizing the need for exposition is a cool trick.
Here, we can see how the reuse of existing assets helps:
Set up Hogwarts once and you're sorted for seven novels.
And, if it's impossible to describe the movement of that beetle's legs efficiently and cheaply, then replace the beetle with a moth that flutters by. Go on - make your life easier!

Then we have another skill - that of succinct and effective writing! Minimize those adjectives and adverbs and maximize those strong nouns and perfect verbs! Squeeze the life out of all that necessary exposition and drizzle the concentrate upon your narrative.

Okay, I'm off to watch Cops With Cameras. Laters.