Readers caught in the grips of suspense are kept locked upon their seats permanently so they may find answers to an unyielding question hopefully on that very next page. The means to obtain such an effect is through the proper use of information in your narrative. Boiled down to its basic components, all information reverts to five W’s. It’s frustrating to revisit something learned in elementary school with the desire to improve your current abilities but all great skills are merely the basics mastered.
For the audience to feel suspense they must first be invested in the story. This relies on you telling an interesting story with interesting characters at a good pace, etc. (not to leave you in the dark but this is its own entire discussion). Once you’ve accomplished that, you must lead the reader to ask a question to which there’s not yet an answer. It can be anything to fit any genre. Will the protagonists admit they like each other and kiss? How will the dashing archeologist escape an ancient trap filled ruins? Perhaps a character brings it up if need be but the story should naturally develop to where the question is clear, affects the narrative, and (ideally) can be answered at any time.
For the question to be clear either the audience must be told information directly or be struck with a feeling towards the unknown shared by the characters. Even if you go the direct route it doesn’t have to be through unbelievable, point belaboring dialog. Perhaps near the beginning we see a body stuffed under the floorboards before a party is held in the very same house. No one has to explain the stakes for the information has been relayed directly through action and everyone knows their consequences, if uncovered. For the indirect route you have to rely more on universal sensations and situations. When an alley goes almost completely dark in the night and a character looks down it with cold sweat falling between raised hairs on the back of their neck like rain down an old brick wall, they wonder what’s down the alley. You would too. Is there something or nothing? Is it dangerous or safe? If the question isn’t clear the audience won’t know what answer they seek.
When it comes to affecting the narrative you have to avoid settling for an interesting fact. If all through the story we’re led to wonder at what events made the dark lord chose his evil path, that’s good. But if the final duel between the hero and the villain was going to happen regardless of that revelation there was no impact on the narrative. Sure we may feel sympathy for the villain where there was none before but that’s not suspense. If it was established that maybe if the hero finds out why the villain became who they are, then they might convince the dark lord to stop, sparring thousands of lives, including those of characters we’ve come to care for. That would generate suspense for each crumb of information and leave the audience hanging on every word in the final confrontation. That’s a difficult pull there I’ll admit. First thought is to give the hero an idealist belief that all conflict can be avoided if the parties understand one another and then cut to the villain berating an argumentative subordinate as they claim not he, nor anyone in the world, could understand their brilliant mode of thought (echoes of a jaded idealist). It matters when the story makes the audience emote but it’s only suspense when it changes its progression or outcome.
Lastly, and this is the most difficult to implement, for the atmosphere of suspense to truly bite the question must be able to be answered at any point in the story. If the reader knows for certain the answer will only arrive at the climax then all they have to do is turn pages till they get there. Are you really going to put the climax in the first third of the story just to shake that expectation? No, suspense exists in the present and doesn’t hit well if deferred. There are a few work arounds such as making the question a smaller part of the story so it can be answered early out of the blue or be a recurring element (common in monster and killer stories where the antagonist attacks and leaves). However, the most principled approach is to give the audience a belief that if the question is answered, the story has the ability to continue.
Returning to the body under the floorboard example, say the killer and one of the party guests are alone. The killer is suspicious the guest knows the truth and has lured them away to bring the accusation. Slowly they reach for a weapon but at the last moment the guest (inadvertently) convinces them of their total ignorance and they both return to the party. The audience now suspects if the body is found it might not be the end to the story for something may happen to one of the guests or the killer may use their weapon to hold the partygoers hostage. Maybe the party is being held at an unsuspecting host’s home and as a fallback the killer may blame them if the body’s found. Alternatively one of the guests finds the body but has a timidity, emotional connection with the killer, or a physical inability preventing them from immediately communicating that information transferring the suspense from discovery to revelation. With more possibilities the less confident the audience will be. Every page has the potential.
Thus the information shows its importance in what questions are answered and which are unanswered. For fun and exemplariness, a demon appears and tells the protagonist they will die today in England so it may take their soul. Here the sixth “W” is in question. How will they die? Suddenly every object around them becomes a deathly hazard. Direct from Orson Wells’s Touch of Evil, a timebomb is stowed in the trunk of a couple’s car which they then drive through crowded city streets. When will it go off and who will parish? I’ve also alluded to the play Rope multiple times and I’d be remise if I pretended otherwise.
When the mood calls for suspense imagine a scenario that interests you (for if you aren’t the audience won’t be). Then relay the story in a single sentence using three or four of the W’s. If you can add a two-word question at the end and it sticks, you have a worthy scenario. A detective receives word that a maniac bomber has planted an explosive in the city. But where? You know, smart little writer you, but the character and audience don’t. Now every moment and movement come at the steep cost of precious time. The question is clear, it would affect the narrative by exploding, and as for the any moment element a separate detective could bring up a similar instance in which an industrial sabotage bombing left enough evidence to track down the bomber in that case to reassure his stressed colleague they’ll get their target one way or another. Maybe the story goes that route, who can say for sure.
A sidenote: Time is often a factor used with suspense as it adds weight to every word that may or may not answer the question, but it isn’t the only one. Ultimately, you need a limited resource (and what’s more limited than time?) but it can be anything. For example: You’re presented a list of one hundred people with photos and names and included are your parents. The presenter tells you one of the people listed is a murderer and starts to detail the murderer. Slowly the list is narrowed down till it’s only your parents and one stranger. Here there’re only so many explanations and alternatives to the undesirable outcome.
A final sidenote: Remember to distinguish suspense from mystery. Searching for a murderer is mystery. Searching for a murderer before they strike again is suspense.
Colin Klawans 