A Dirty, Dirty Word
Prologues: How to Prologue Without Prolonging the Pain
Prologues.
Prologues have such a bad reputation — hanging out on the wrong side of the tracks, smoking cigarettes and getting tattoos — that some readers will roll up the windows and drive past quickly.
Never in the history of humankind has there been a more divisive subject.
There has never been a war, a battle or a barroom brawl without first some poor soul uttered the word, “prologue”. Don’t bother looking it up. That’s a fact.
And yet, here we are.
Here we are —
Prologues are loved/hated depending on the individual and I’m not here to tell you that your opinion is wrong (although it probably is). There are five-dozen articles on whether you should or shouldn’t include a prologue.
I counted. Twice.
Instead, it’s important to understand what a prologue is, and how it’s used appropriately, before you decide to turn up your nose, turn your back, and turn away from the device forever.
Back in the day, if a fantasy story didn’t have a prologue, it probably wasn’t any good. At least, that’s how it felt. As I was staggering around, trying to figure out all these words and punctuation, I was under the impression that every fantasy book of worth started with a prologue. Robert Jordan solidified that notion, taking that idea to an extreme so great that his prologues could have been their own publication — although the reader was almost never the wiser after finishing a Jordan prologue.
There-in lies the first problem of prologues — misuse.
Don’t get me wrong. I love me some Wheel of Time and I’m dying for live-action series. Jordan did some amazing things in the world of fantasy and storytelling, but his entire series is a master class on what not to do with prologues.
So, let’s boil this down quickly: What is a prologue? How is it used appropriately?
Simple.
We can knock this out with two short answers:
1 — The prologue provides information from a different time/place that can’t be had within the narrative but is integral to the story.
2 — As the first thing your readers read, it must serve the purpose of fully engaging the audience, drawing them in and keep them turning pages.
That’s it.
If you keep those two things in mind while writing a “prologue” then you’re good to go. Don’t make it an information dump. Don’t try to build the entire world. Don’t be too vague. Don’t use it only to set mood.
Think murder-mystery books, which make the most common and most effective use the prologue — an overview of the crime and a few hints as to the resolution. Or Harry Potter and the ̶S̶o̶r̶c̶e̶r̶e̶r̶’̶s̶ ̶ Philosopher’s Stone, which uses the prologue perfectly. In these cases, the prologue is set before the events of the book(s), grabs the audience’s attention and provides information integral to the story but otherwise unknowable.
Patrick Rothfuss used a prologue so sublime in The Name of the Wind that many people don’t even realize it’s a prologue.
As a writer, you should know that there is an implicit contract between you and your readers. Your job is to tell a good story well. Their job is to give you enough rope to build an amazing experience or hang yourself in the attempt. If the book was good enough to make a reader crack the cover, then don’t break that trust after you write “prologue” at the very start. It’s not a throwaway chapter because the words looked pretty on the page. It’s part of the reading experience, the art the writer is delivering, and it should be treated with the same respect as you have for your readers.
