What interesting posts we've had on Type M recently! A theme has emerged about the development of character in mysteries, especially the revelation of backstory. How much backstory is so much that it clogs up the plot? How can you reveal it so that it doesn't clog up the plot? Do we need backstory anyway?
Most of these questions relate to the main protagonist in the story or series, but all main characters should have a story. Backstory means the past experience of the character that influences what they are doing in the story and why. Biographical detail, like where they grew up and what their parents did for a living, is relevant mostly insofar as it informs what they do in the story, although writers may put it in to capture a historical time or add richness and layers. Some readers will love the detail, others will skip it, just as they do description. Because of this, deciding how far a writer can tax his reader's patience is tricky.
As a psychologist, I love character in stories, and the more richness and depth in that character, the better. Backstory is essential to adding layers, but I have a sixth sense for simplistic psychology that doesn't ring true. Don't just toss in an abusive childhood, or overbearing mother, or absent father, and expect me to believe it explains everything. People's lives are complex and full of different influences, and they make sense of their experiences in different ways.
I like to create stories in which the reader can imagine walking in the character's shoes. It doesn't matter if it's the sixteenth century or the future, or even if the character is an alien or a cat, the reader should be able to relate to the universal experiences.
The protagonists in all three of my series have significant backstories that play a huge role in why they act as they do. I'm basically a pantser. I don't draw up character sketches or biographies ahead of time, because I only get to know my characters as we go along. In all cases, when I started the series, I had only the vaguest ideas of what their stories were, and the details unfolded gradually over the series. This was not a deliberately coy decision on my part to stretch out the suspense, but rather the result of my adding details to their backstory that related to the theme of each book. In one book I might explore their relationship to their siblings, because siblings played a big role in that book. In another book it might be fathers.
Two examples come to mind. Inspector Green is an obsessive homicide investigator who is passionate about justice. When I wrote the first book, I didn't have a clear idea why; I just knew I needed a detective determined to catch bad guys. The second book, ONCE UPON A TIME, involved an old war crime from the Second World War, and suddenly I realized the story would be more powerful if Green had a person connection, and before I even thought about it, I had made his elderly father a Holocaust survivor. As I explored that backstory, I realized that was the basis for his drive for justice.
My second example is Amanda Doucette's penchant for getting herself into trouble by trying to help people. I knew the reason why she did this; a traumatic experience during her time as a foreign air worker that had left her chasing redemption. I had hinted about the details in the first four books in the series, but it's not until the latest book (in progress and set for release next year) that I truly delve into the backstory. One of the characters in the book has PTSD, and in helping him, Amanda faces her own.
Relating the backstory to the theme of the book helps to enrich both the character and the theme, and should go some way to ensuring it facilitates the plot instead of clogging it up.
