When protagonist Josie Tyrell mentions that John Lennon had just been shot in the opening of Janet Fitch’s novel, Paint It Black, we immediately know that this story is set in 1980.
Having served its primary purpose, some writers would drop the historical reference and move on. Not Fitch. She makes such good use of Lennon’s death in her opening that one wonders if she chose that era just so she could have access to it.
Let’s look at how she drops this information into the second half of her first paragraph, after a few sentences that establish that Josie Tyrell is modeling for an artist friend:
Henry Ko wasn’t painting well today. He had to stop every few minutes to wipe his eyes on the back of his hand, while Double Fantasy circled around on the studio stereo. Everyone was playing it now. John Lennon had just been shot in New York, and wherever Josie went, people were playing the same fucking Beatles songs until you wanted to throw up. At least Double Fantasy had Yoko Ono.
Already Fitch has used the event to characterize Josie, who does not want us to forget the woman behind the man. But Fitch also uses the event to create subtext. I’ve added footnotes to show a connection to the story to come, illustrating how Josie’s perception of Lennon’s murder will weave into the fabric of her story:
On the cover that leaned against the dirty couch, John and Yoko pressed together for a kiss they would never finish.1 People were always trashing Yoko Ono, blaming her for breaking up the Beatles,2 but Josie knew they were just jealous that John preferred Yoko to some bloated megaband.3 Nobody ever really loved a lover. Because love was a private party, and nobody got on the guest list.
- 1In just a few pages, Josie will find out that her boyfriend, Michael—who said he was going away on a trip to concentrate on his painting—has killed himself.
- 2Michael’s mother will blame Josie for his problems.
- 3Michael’s mother is a renowned concert pianist, and her competitive condescension toward Josie will prove to be Josie’s main obstacle through the rest of the novel.
Then, Fitch adds in another, more esoteric historical fact:
Henry kept crying about John Lennon. Josie felt worse about Darby Crash. Darby had just killed himself in an act of desperate theater,4 a gesture swamped by the Beatle’s death like a raft in the backwash of a battleship.5
- 4Foreshadows Michael’s suicide.
- 5Foreshadows Josie’s narrative arc—she doesn’t want to get swept away by Michael’s death.
Back to the painter’s studio. When Ko ends the session, he and Josie get high together. More foreshadowing:
She toked along with him, knee to knee, and thought about the guy who shot Lennon. Shot by a desperate fan. On the news, fans were always desperate.6
- 6Desperation, and Josie’s need to rise above it in a way that Michael could not, will be a theme throughout the book.
Still high, Josie heads back to the cabin she shares with Michael, hoping he has returned home from his painting trip.
She drove back to Lemoyne in her rattly Ford Falcon, a powder blue relic with band stickers on the trunk—X, Germs, Cramps. It was normally a three-minute drive, but she hit a line of cars with their lights on. Why were they going so slow? Maybe another John Lennon thing. She honked, wove, and passed until she got to the front and saw it was a hearse. Mortified, she turned off onto a side street and stopped, red-faced. How was she supposed to know—a line of cars crawling along with their lights on?
I love the humor here, but beyond that, the subset of details Fitch chose to include about Lennon’s murder, added to this funeral procession, are starting to suggest Josie’s story goal: already at risk as a runaway, she must find her identity without Michael. The mention of Lennon’s death has heightened the reader’s emotions without referring to Mark David Chapman or the dramatic rush to get Lennon to the hospital; Fitch rightly allows her own story to provide the novel’s most dramatic moments.
A couple added thoughts about the era:
- It is interesting, in reading back through actual accounts of Lennon’s shooting, that Ono chose not to hold a funeral for Lennon. Maybe in some small way, Fitch addresses this with Josie’s humorous pot-fueled interruption of a funeral procession.
- Another interesting historical fact as concerns the “desperate fans”: at least three committed suicide after Lennon’s murder, prompting Ono to release a public statement urging people not to give in to despair.
- “What happens to the dream when the dreamer is gone?” This is the question Josie asks as she fights to discover what is left of the brilliant vision of the future she and Michael once nurtured together. Does Lennon’s “Imagine” come to mind?
Such is the power of setting an emotional stage by tying it to an historic event: I read Paint It Black when it came out in 2006, and since then I have not re-read it, nor did I see the 2016 film on which it was based. Lennon gets only now more brief mention later in the book, yet I recalled this opening well enough that I looked it up to write about it here.
There is no writing rule that says historic or even current events can’t be mentioned in passing. Authors do it all the time. But what if select aspects of that event could also add to characterization, set an emotional stage, and foreshadow events to come in a way that creates an indelible impression on the reader’s memory?
I say, all the better.
Have you dropped historical or current events into your work? In what way did they contribute to your story? Could you make better/further use of them? Did researching them give you further ideas for your story? Can you share further examples of great uses of historical events in fiction (that were not the backdrop for the entire story, say, like wars often are)?
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About Kathryn Craft
Kathryn Craft (she/her) is the author of two novels from Sourcebooks, The Art of Falling and The Far End of Happy. A freelance developmental editor at Writing-Partner.com since 2006, Kathryn also teaches in Drexel University’s MFA program and runs a year-long, small-group mentorship program, Your Novel Year. Learn more on Kathryn's website.
Wow! Fabulous insight on subtext and dropping relevant historical references into the story. Mind officially blown. Keep ’em coming.
What fun to read this comment first thing, Densie! You’ve made my day.
Amazing.
My WIP is speculative fiction set several thousand years hence, but after reading this, I want to use this technique. I’ll just have to make up some future news story to do what Lennon’s death did in PiB: not just world-building and foreshadowing, but also opening a window into the character’s inner selves through their reactions to the news.
Thanks for this, Kathryn
Great idea! Go for it.
Wonderful article, Kathryn! Great takeaways—your footnotes were Sparkworthy. Excellent examples on how to integrate history into your fiction and, in turn, make that fiction stronger. Thanks.
You’re welcome. ;)
Excellent article. I wonder, though, if these details resonate for a younger reader. The risk with time-specific references is that they wind up meaning more to the author than to the reader.
But if you’re going to use them, use them well, as in this example.
Good point. Best not make assumptions. Other than the assumption that we knew who the Beatles were, Fitch fills in the detail needed to make use of the material.
Why I know: her mention of Darby Crash of the Germs. This was not my scene, so I thought Fitch made him up! But he indeed existed, and committed suicide by intentional heroin overdose. Yet nothing was lost on me, regardless, since Jodie’s point was that the news of his death was lost in the wake of the loss of someone more popular. I got it.
Guess the point is that fiction or fact, we writers must provide the necessary context that will create the intended effect.
Historical elements, recognizable by most readers, are perfect for letting a reader know where and when.
From the very beginning of my debut novel:
…Kary nodded toward the plate-glass window separating WMRC-NY’s third-floor greenroom from the clear New York night, where streetlights battled the erratic illumination of neon signs under an almost-full moon.
Elise joined her, gazed warily at the skyline. “What?”
It was automatic, halfway through the first decade of the twenty-first century…
It was automatic, in those years after 9/11, to be skittish, and to check the skyline in NYC. Two previous references to the general time frame, plus this, should confirm 2005 as the year. It matters, because culture, entertainment, and technology change so quickly these days. It’s long enough ago that the rest of the novel’s actions are ‘recent past.’ And the setting – waiting for a late night NY talk show to begin – is also critical.
It doesn’t take much, and it is so much better than writing, “It was 2005 in NYC, and Kary was sitting in the WMRC greenroom, waiting for the night-time talk show to begin.”
I love it when an author begs a little effort on the reader’s part. Do you use 9/11 in other ways as well, to foreshadow specific events or the type of story this will be? Was your character personally impacted by the events that day? Things to think about.
Just enough effort to get the reader engaged – not enough to turn her off!
I used it more in the very first draft, but I realized six pov characters (one was Elise, a NY agent) were too many for a story that was going to be long. Unfortunately, NY is now an occasional setting (a couple of things happen live, on the NY show) instead of more frequent because of the agent.
You can’t use every idea!
Those historical details work, I think, not because they are historical but because they become personal. That is, what’s happening in the contemporaneous world relates in some way to a character.
Historical details by themselves are just window dressing. They are mere decoration until a character gives them meaning. That’s how history comes to feel real.
There was a history teacher in my high school.Mr. Milstead, who I did not have the pleasure of having. My boyfriend complained about him for the amount of timeline memorization, but was able to do well because Mr. Milstead told cool stories of each era’s intrigue and espionage and who was sleeping with whom. He humanized the facts, making them memorable.
When I think back to Lennon’s death, I’ll always think of fictional Josie Tyrell on the opposite side of the country, a few days later, modeling for Henry Ko. Because you’re right—history became personal.
At the time of John Lennon’s death I lived on the Upper West Side just north of the Dakota, the apartment building outside of which he was shot. I walked by the next day. Flowers were piled up on the sidewalk.
Today, across the street in Central Park, you can walk through Strawberry Fields, the garden area donated by Yoko Ono. There is a mosaic embedded in the walkway, a big circle in the middle of which is one word: “IMAGINE”
There are flowers left there, always. His loss was personal for us all.
First of all, I loved this post, Kathryn! As a historical author, I am always struggling with how much of the “cool stuff” to include in a scene. Often it’s better to refrain, but you’ve given me a great technique to try. I can see that blending character emotion and story with the historical detail can be powerful.
But I also wanted to share my memory of Lennon’s death. I was 18 and working in a record store (remember those?). We sold every album almost immediately and still had all these people just wandering aimlessly through the store, some sobbing. We played Lennon and Beatles albums for hours.
Thanks S.K. I bet you’ll have a lot of fun trying it. And Lennon’s death is right up there with other “I remember where I was when” moments, for sure. Yours and Don’s memories both—so poignant.
Fantastic post! I love how you explained the specific examples of historical reference illustrating the emotional arc of the story.
Glad that worked for you! Thanks for commenting, Gayleen.
Beautiful deconstruction of Fitch’s opening, Kathryn. I read the book all those years ago too and at that time didn’t “get” all you’ve so brilliantly footnoted out. Thank you!
Hi Judy, I adore revisiting work that I enjoyed first as a reader, but can appreciate more deeply now as a writer. It’s fun!
Great post! Lots of food for thought. I always find it admirable when someone can find a topic that seems new and fresh. Thank you!
Thanks Sheri. And yet the source of the topic was Lennon’s death, to which any of us could have access. That’s telling, right? We each can pull what detail we need from historic events to use them in our own, fresh way.
Such a well thought out and well illustrated literary tool for us to consider. Thanks!
My novel had to be bumped in the time she arrived in the west due to my learning of a blizzard that trapped the train for almost two weeks in the mountain pass before Seattle and ended with a horrific loss of life when an avalanche swept the train down into the canyon. It was a famous disaster, so would have been trouble to ignore.
With the new timing, my main character would have been killed if she came by train a week later. I was able to use this to show the wildness and daring of her travels, and boldness and thirst for adventure is key to her character. Her worry about it also allowed the reader to see her sentimental and compassionate side, which doesn’t come out so blatantly very often but is central to the series arc being satisfying at the end.
I love that, Sheri. It’s so annoying when things don’t go our way, right up until you realize our story could be made even better! Deep within our disappointments can be the seeds of our greatest success.
Great post, Kathryn, as always. Janet Fitch has much to offer about her craft. In a recent article in the LA TIMES, she talked about her latest book, The Revolution of Marina M. and her visits to Russia to help her write the work. This stuck with me: To tell my story, I have to know how it felt to stand in lines at the district society trying to get papers one needed to work and listening to rumors of what was said in those rooms. Hungry, ill-clotherd, hopeful, stressed out. That’s the room I want to be in. NOT HOW PEOPLE SHAPE HISTORY, BUT HOW HISTORY SHAPES US…who we become under its pressure.
Ooh, thanks for sharing that, Beth! I recall that when Oprah Winfrey interviewed her about White Oleander and said her writing was poetic, Fitch said of her editorial process, “I keep going over the prose until it sounds like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” Now that’s dedication! So yes, much pithy advice. I need to read her latest. (As for my quotation marks, it was 1999 so give me break if I’m paraphrasing, lol!)
What a marvelous dissection of Fitch’s opening…I’m always interested in finding better ways to include historical details without falling into the trap of dumping info. And Beth’s mention of Fitch’s approach is intriguing too: I’ll have to check out The Revolution of Marina M, I think!
I’m having one of those research informing the story moments this month, as I read Death in the Air (Kate Winkler Dawson), a book about London’s Great Smog of 1952. I’d already discovered the Great Smog lined up with the timing of my WIP, and have an episode taking place during that horrible December weekend. But Dawson’s careful recreation of what people experienced is really helping me to think about how to make even better use of the historical event–both in terms of making it more vivid but also more meaningful for the protagonist, more personal. She leaves her flat to go back to the lab and work, a choice that is even riskier than I originally thought. When I rewrite and expand that section, I’ll definitely have more options and ideas.
Oh yes, Alisha, there’s so much you could do with that. Just the words The Great Smog are so creepy, and offer up much fodder for metaphor. Enjoy!
Kathryn, that was an astute breakdown of how to deftly use historical elements—thank you! My most recent novel, a collaborative one, begins in a Boston speakeasy right on the cusp of the Great Crash.
Lucky for me, my collaborator is an avid history buff, and he had great fun in researching physical and cultural elements of the time and place—like bartending practices and mores, women’s and men’s fashion, language and so much more.
And I had great fun in incorporating his juicy material into the book—hoping that it was done in the compelling fashion you describe.
If the details you chose illuminated the inner life of your characters, I imagine you did, Tom. Interesting that someone else did the research! I wonder if that made it any easier for you to pick and choose which details to use. Good luck with your book!
What a GREAT example.
In my upcoming debut, The Bone Garden, two characters attend Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s speech at Cobo Hall in Detroit in 1964, where he delivered several elements of what would become his I Have a Dream speech in Washington months later. It is an important event for Nora, a privileged white woman who is secretly dating the black man with whom she attends. She does not want to go, does not want to participate in the march to the venue. Does not want to be labeled a rabble-rouser. She is uncomfortable being the minority. Her boyfriend’s sister and nephew are there as well. Through their reactions and the reactions of the crowd, even more than what King says (though there are a couple snippets in there as dialogue), it finally hits her fully that much of her city, including her boyfriend and his family, are dissatisfied, unhappy, or angry. It’s an aha moment, and it is what precipitates one of the main conflicts in the book–she commits herself fully to him, they decide to marry at the courthouse, and then they must tell her parents. It’s an understatement to say that it does not go well.
The historical event of the speech is also a moment that sets up a scene that comes much later in the book and fifty years later in her life, when her relationship with her boyfriend’s family is restored. The atmosphere at the speech in Cobo Hall is mirrored in the Easter service at a large black Baptist church. The same kind of call and response. A similar emotional pitch. They’re not exactly positioned as bookends, but they are a kind of inclusio for that character.
“It’s an understatement to say that it does not go well.” Ha—love it, Erin. Sounds like you’ve placed your characters in a relevant place that can deepen and amplify their inner conflict, almost a la a Greek chorus. You also make good use of the power inherent in witnessing an event like that firsthand by circling back to it later. Good thinking. Thanks for sharing your premise with us! Great title.