Guides • Perfecting your Craft
Posted on Apr 25, 2025
What is Exposition? Definition, Tips, and Examples
About the author
Reedsy's editorial team is a diverse group of industry experts devoted to helping authors write and publish beautiful books.
More about the Reedsy Editorial Team →
Savannah Cordova
Savannah is a senior editor with Reedsy and a published writer whose work has appeared on Slate, Kirkus, and BookTrib. Her short fiction has appeared in the Owl Canyon Press anthology, "No Bars and a Dead Battery".
View profile →You enter a cozy writer’s café, the scent of freshly ground espresso in the air, keyboards clicking softly around you. A stranger settles into the seat opposite, eyes gleaming knowingly.
“So, exposition, huh? Misunderstood, often maligned — but powerful when done right. Learn to wield it effectively, and you can immerse readers in your narrative without them even noticing.”
They lean closer.
“Ready to master it? Good. Let’s dive in.”
What is exposition in storytelling?
The exposition in a story is a literary device used to introduce essential background information such as: the setting (where and when the story takes place), the characters (who the main characters are), the backstory (what happened prior to the beginning of the story), and the world (particularly important for fantasy and sci-fi authors).
This technique is typically found towards the start of a narrative, setting up major details about the world and its characters, though it’s by no means limited to the opening. Exposition can (and does) appear as the author reveals new information whenever it's relevant to do so.
Q: What are effective techniques for incorporating exposition into a story without disrupting the flow or pacing?
Suggested answer
I see poorly integrated facts in nonfiction all the time. You'll be reading beautiful prose and all of a sudden you're hit with what reads like a copy-and-pasted section of Wikipedia. Writers need to take the facts and make them their own. That means finding ways to make them vivid and immediate to the reader and weaves them into the narrative.
Susanna is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
The best way to get exposition in is through dialogue. The caveat, of course, is to be careful that it comes across naturally. For instance, if your characters are telling each other things they would know, the reader will know you're only doing that to get the information to the reader, which will greatly reduce their suspension of disbelief.
The second best way, in my opinion, is through thoughts. Again, though, the character needs to think things they would actually think in their situation. For instance, in a fantasy novel, if you drop a big infodump of the world's setting, or the way machines work, or how various monsters are classified, etc., it won't be believable because there's no reason for the character to think things they already know. You could show them working through various possibilities in their mind, coming to correct conclusions, that kind of thing, but the process has to appear honest. Always assume your reader is intelligent, and is capable of sensing expositional shortcuts.
Brett is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Sounds simple, right? Not always. As a writer, you might be tempted to rush through the tedious work of setting up your world and characters so you can get to your action-packed inciting incident, but resist that temptation! No matter how engaging your hook might be, if you haven't effectively established your characters’ everyday normal, even the most seismic shift to the status quo will fall flat.
You may have heard of an “info dump,” which occurs when an author drops all of their exposition into a daunting, long-winded wall of text that a reader hastily skims over — this is exactly what you want to avoid. Well-crafted exposition doesn’t overwhelm the reader with unnecessary details or disrupt the narrative flow. Instead, it should provide just enough information to help an audience understand your world and its characters, setting the stage for the dramatic inciting incident that will kick-start your narrative.
Types of exposition — with examples
Direct exposition
As a writer, you’re surely familiar with the “show, don’t tell” rule. While this is good general advice to follow, it isn’t universally applicable: sometimes telling is necessary to communicate complicated information plainly to the reader — that’s where direct exposition comes in.
Direct exposition is when the narrator explicitly states essential background information to the reader. As the type of exposition that the oft-maligned “information dump” typically falls into, direct exposition is perhaps most responsible for the bad rap that this literary device often receives.
Q: What should I do if someone has already written a book with my idea?
Suggested answer
Write it anyway!
The market for books is huge and each writer's voice is unique. You will have a different way of presenting the informaiton or telling the story, even if it's similar to someone else's.
Alice is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Write a better book. There are many books written about the same topic, same ideas, same plots. You can't protect an idea, only the written expression of that idea. Go write your own book that is thoughtful, well-written, and thorough. A good book will find an audience.
Maria is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Still, that doesn’t mean direct exposition is inherently bad — it just requires a delicate balance to get right. Too much all at once will disengage the reader, but carefully weaving short bursts into your text is an efficient way to clarify key details while keeping the story moving. Just make sure it’s not the only type of exposition you use.
🔁 Direct exposition example: The Trading Game
The more complex a topic, the more difficult it is to “show” it elegantly in your story, and there aren’t many topics more complex than international finance. Accordingly, Gary Stevenson uses direct exposition to explain forex trading in his bestselling memoir, The Trading Game:
An FX swap is, quite simply, a loan. In more detail, it’s a collateralized loan. Think of it like this: you go to the pawn shop, you give them your gold watch, and they lend you £200. You have received a loan of £200, and you’ve lent the pawn shop your gold watch as ‘collateral’... This loan is, in a sense, also, a ‘swap’. The lender has given you money for a period of time, and you have given the lender, for the same period of time, your gold watch.
Conveying this information across via a drawn-out, overly complicated back-and-forth between Stevenson and a fellow economist would, in all likelihood, have felt clunky and unnatural. Instead, Stevenson wisely opted for a straightforward explanation that breaks the concept down simply and effectively — a quick break from the action was the most efficient choice to get this concept across to the reader.
Indirect exposition
Now that we’ve discussed “telling,” let's examine its more favorably looked-upon cousin: “showing,” or more formally, indirect exposition. It may not be as immediately informative as telling, but showing has the potential to be a lot more effective: indirect exposition uses discreet cues to reveal character, setting, and backstory to the reader through action, dialogue, and context. We’ll go into more detail on action and dialogue later on in this post, but for now, we’ll keep our focus on how you can use context and implication to your advantage.
Indirect exposition shines brightest when it’s used to reveal character traits, emotional states, or subtle world-building dynamics that would feel heavy-handed if explained directly. Still, beware the dangers of being too subtle — you don’t want less eagle-eyed readers missing out on crucial information because you were too understated in your exposition.
Recognize when clarity should take precedence over pacing (as Stevenson did in The Trading Game), and reserve indirect exposition for moments when it will enhance the reading experience without slowing down momentum.
🌊 Indirect exposition example: Sea of Tranquility
In this scene from Emily St. John Mandel’s Sea of Tranquility, a small slip in dialogue efficiently reveals a major twist without the need for a direct explanation:
“Fomites aren’t a major mode of transmission with Covid-19,” Gaspery said. Fomites? Covid-19? Mirella had never heard either term, and the other two were frowning too. “Oh, right,” Gaspery said, seemingly to himself, “it’s only January.” He snapped back into focus.
Gaspery begins the exchange by casually using the terms “fomites” and “Covid-19,” neither of which would be familiar to the average person in January 2020. Once it becomes clear that the others don’t understand him, Gaspery mutters “oh, right… it’s only January,” hinting that he’s familiar with a timeline after the pandemic has already spread.
No one needs to say “this man is a time traveler” to get that idea across. Instead, Gaspery’s knowledge of a future pandemic gives him away. It’s a small, revealing moment that invites the reader to think for themselves — the story trusts them to connect the dots without ever spelling things out, creating a satisfying “aha!” moment of discovery when they realize the truth.
While the exposition in this exchange is subtle, writers can use dialogue much more explicitly to deliver key information. Which leads us to…
Exposition through dialogue
As the great Kurt Vonnegut once said: “Every sentence must do one of two things: reveal character or advance the action.” Exposition through dialogue is mainly focused on the former — divulging information through interaction allows you to provide characterization and exposition in one fell swoop.
The caveat that Brett touches on here is sometimes called the “As you know, Bob…” problem, which crops up when two characters discuss something that they both already know purely for the sake of the reader.
Q: What are some techniques authors can use to introduce characters naturally through dialogue?
Suggested answer
When you're going to create a character through dialogue, what you want to do is provide the reader with information about this individual without interrupting the action for exposition.
One good way to do that is to think about how actual people reveal themselves in conversation: through what they say, the cadence of their speech, and what they focus on. Instead of telling us about what a character is sure, nervous, or resentful of, you can make those qualities evident in what they say.
A certain sort of character might answer quickly or deflect, while an unsure one might lie or offer more questions than answers. You can also include context of hinting—perhaps another character does something in response to an unexpected comment, or someone uses a nickname that suggests history. This allows the dialogue not just to define who the character is, but also how they exist in relationships with the world around them. It's generally more engaging to give little hints than to tell everything.
By piling personality, background, and relationships onto conversations, you create a sense of authenticity so that readers feel they're reading about a real person rather than getting a synopsis.
John is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Dialogue is one of the most powerful ways to introduce your characters and bring them to life for readers. When done well, it reveals personality, relationships, and motivations—all in a way that feels natural and engaging. Here are a few techniques to make character introductions through dialogue memorable, with examples from authors I’ve worked with.
Show personality through speech patterns
The way a character speaks—their tone, choice of words, and rhythm—can reveal a lot about who they are. In Losing Juliet by June Taylor, the dialogue between two adult female characters is a perfect example. One character is guarded and precise, while the other’s tone is more casual and assertive. This contrast instantly tells us about their personalities and sets up their complex dynamic. When editing, I often help authors create unique speech patterns that make each character’s voice distinctive.
Reflect relationships through dialogue
How characters speak to each other reveals their relationship dynamics. In Losing Juliet, Taylor uses subtle hints in the dialogue to convey past secrets and tension without spelling it all out. Readers sense the history and conflict between the characters, making the dialogue feel rich and layered. When I work with authors, I encourage exploring these nuances in relationships, showing rather than telling.
Reveal motivation through subtext
Great dialogue often goes beyond what’s explicitly said. In The Hanged Man Rises by Sarah Naughton, the children’s dialogue is filled with innocence and curiosity, yet it often hints at deeper fears and uncertainties. This subtle layer adds intrigue without needing direct exposition. I frequently work with authors to find opportunities for subtext, letting readers read between the lines to discover characters’ hidden motivations.
Show conflict and tension
Conflict in dialogue can reveal a character’s core traits. In The Hanged Man Rises, Naughton’s children’s dialogue shows both their vulnerability and resilience, heightening the story’s suspense. In Losing Juliet, conversations between the protagonists highlight simmering anger and unresolved issues, offering readers a glimpse of what drives each character. When editing, I encourage authors to think about how characters might speak differently under pressure—revealing who they are when emotions run high.
Balance dialogue with actions and reactions
Dialogue is most impactful when paired with physical cues. In Losing Juliet, Taylor often uses gestures and subtle actions to deepen the impact of what’s said (or left unsaid). These small cues add depth, creating a more immersive experience. I often advise authors to integrate these details, as they can make dialogue feel more real and relatable.
Reflect character growth in speech
As characters evolve, so should their dialogue. In The Hanged Man Rises, Naughton’s young characters’ dialogue changes as they face challenges, reflecting their growth over the course of the story. This shift makes their journey feel authentic, and I often encourage authors to consider these changes as they develop characters’ arcs.
Shelley is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
How much or how little a character "speaks" says a lot about them. A dialect can also reveal where they are from. Broken English or a stutter can also say a lot. Dialogue is a great way to "show" and not "tell."
Melody is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
The main thing to get across when introducing characters through dialogue is to write it so it feels natural. Constantly ask yourself if the way you're making them speak is the way regular people in those circumstances would speak. If it sounds too stilted or infodump-y, that's going to distance your reader from the character because they'll feel unreal, manufactured—just there to move the plot along.
Brett is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
To avoid sacrificing your reader’s suspension of disbelief, try to craft scenarios where your characters have genuine reasons to explain, question, or argue about the information you’re aiming to communicate. Rebecca Yarros does during this scene in her book Fourth Wing — let’s take a closer look to explore what we mean here.
🐲 Exposition through dialogue example: Fourth Wing
Young Violet Sorrengail always thought academia was her calling. Her late father was a scribe, after all, and her exhaustive list of health problems has long discouraged Violet from more physical pursuits. That is, until her mother forces her to become a dragon rider:
"Sending Violet into the Riders Quadrant is tantamount to a death sentence." Guess Mira isn’t done arguing. Mira’s never done arguing with Mom, and the frustrating thing about it is that Mom has always respected her for it. Double standard for the win. "She's not strong enough, Mom! She's already broken her arm this year, she sprains some joint every other week, and she's not tall enough to mount any dragon big enough to keep her alive in a battle."
"Seriously, Mira?" What. The. Hell. My fingernails bite into my palms as I curl my hands into fists. Knowing my chances of survival are minimal is one thing. Having my sister throw my inadequacies in my face is another. "Are you calling me weak?"
"No." Mira squeezes my hand. "Just…fragile."
The characters might be discussing something that they’re all already aware of, but Fourth Wing elegantly sidesteps the “As you know, Bob…” problem by presenting it in the form of an argument between Violet and her family.
In this exchange, Yarros establishes that (1) the Riders Quadrant is extremely dangerous, (2) Violet has some kind of chronic physical condition making her particularly vulnerable, and (3) the Sorrengails have a complex, somewhat fractured, family dynamic. The reader isn’t explicitly told any of this — instead, it’s shown through Violet’s interactions with her mother and sister.
We’ve spoken plenty about, well, speaking, but dialogue isn’t the only character-centric method of exposition that a skilled writer has up their sleeve: next up, we’ll examine how a character’s behavior can provide exposition.
Exposition through action
Let’s return to the second half of that Kurt Vonnegut quote from earlier: the action. Weaving exposition into your characters’ behavior and decisions allows you to simultaneously advance the plot and reveal key details about your world, allowing readers to absorb critical information subconsciously.
Q: What is the difference between “story” and “plot” in narrative craft?
Suggested answer
Story is a description of a connected series of events, with a clear beginning, middle and ending, while plot is the organization of those events – how we get from beginning to middle to end. So, for example, you might have a plot where events are ordered chronologically or where you move back and forth in time, or there could even be different threads within your manuscript.
To create an exciting and enthralling story, where readers will feel compelled to turn the page to find out what happens next, think about change and conflict. These should drive events and motivate your characters until the story reaches a satisfying conclusion. What conflicts or challenges do your characters face as the story progresses? How do these characters develop?
To create a successful plot, carefully think about organizing the events in a way that feels effective and purposeful. What are the best places to start and finish? Are there enough 'hooks' to keep readers engaged? Is the tension building up before a final resolution? Sitting down and plotting out before putting pen to paper (or opening up that blank document!) can really help you ensure that you are hitting that beginning, middle and ending in a satisfying way that will sustain your readers' curiosity and engagement with your writing.
Jenna is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Plot is what actually happens in the book. The sequence of events that takes place. While the story is more about the reasons behind what happens. Why does your main character want what she wants? What is she feeling and thinking at any given point? What do characters feel about each other and why? Story dives a bit deeper into the heart of the book, and not just the events that transpire. Strong books have both a strong plot and a strong story to them.
Melody is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Expository action is everywhere in storytelling. Something as simple as a character's morning routine can subtly reveal their personality, individual values, and relationship dynamics, all while moving the story forward in a way that feels natural and immersive. This can be a little hard to visualize, so here’s an illustrative example.
🐴 Exposition through action example: The Giver of Stars
In the opening pages of The Giver of Stars, Jojo Moyes wastes no time showing us Alice Van Cleve’s world through her actions alone:
Mr. Van Cleve had indulged a little too freely the previous evening and had awoken determined to find fault with whatever anyone happened to do in his house. Including breathing. [Alice] had crept around, wrenched her way into her breeches, then found herself singing softly on the half-mile walk to the library, just for the joy of having somewhere else to be.
On paper, this scene simply finds Alice traveling from her house to the library, but in practice, it accomplishes much more. Each of Alice’s behaviors on this brief walk contributes to our understanding of her character: the delicate tiptoeing around her husband’s temper, her traditionally unfeminine choice of clothing, and the quiet song that Alice indulges in all hint towards a desire to free herself from her detestable Mr. Van Cleve.
Instead of pausing the narrative to explain Alice’s situation, Moyes takes the reader on a breezy, exposition-filled journey of their own, establishing her protagonist’s backstory and internal conflict without disrupting the natural flow of the story.
Tips for writing exposition
Now that you understand a few of the most common methods of exposition, we can get into a few tried-and-true tips that will help you implement your newfound knowledge into your own narrative.
Our advice here will mostly focus on weaving indirect exposition naturally into your writing. Your aim is to ensure that readers have all the necessary context without sacrificing your intricately assembled pacing.
Introduce characters gradually
Introducing your main cast can be tricky business. Key players need to be established early, but dedicating page after page of your opening to long-winded character introductions risks veering your exposition into info-dump territory.
Don’t get bogged down in the intricacies of every minor friend or foe — just give each one a notable character trait or two to help them stick in readers’ minds. Perhaps you have a librarian who rolls her eyes at every minor misgiving, or a bodyguard who obsessively polishes his boots. Whatever it may be, you can gradually expand on their personality, backstory, and role as they become more relevant, allowing readers time to form a connection without overwhelming them up front.
Q: What are the most overused character clichés writers should avoid?
Suggested answer
Green eyes. And eyes that glow, that swirl, that change color, have flecks that dance, and can be seen from absurd distances. Fantasy books are full of this stuff. It gets tiresome. And while we're at it, does every feisty female have to have red hair?
Doreen is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Of course, that’s not to say you can’t introduce a big group of characters all at once. In The Hobbit, J.R.R. Tolkien introduces thirteen dwarves in a single, chaotic dinner party, but only their leader, Thorin, is given any significant focus. The rest of Thorin’s merry company might be named in this scene, but their characterization takes a temporary backseat. Instead, each of their personalities is explored throughout the story as the narrative unfolds.

Build setting with context clues
We’ve covered the who, now let’s examine the where and when. Setting is another key part of the status quo that you’ll need to establish. Once again, it’s best to avoid long, meandering descriptions of where your story is taking place (remember Vonnegut!). Instead, litter your narrative with minor details that hint towards your story’s location and time period.
Say, for example, your story is set in the 1960s. Instead of stating that outright, you could signify the time period with the distinctive ring of a rotary phone, or the faint sound of a James Brown vinyl crackling away in the background. Subtle hints like these offer context clues that readers will passively pick up on, which allows the setting to emerge in a way that feels natural and immersive.
Blend exposition into your narrative voice
This final tip is the most difficult to implement, but if you can get it right, you’ll elevate your exposition far beyond surface-level description. Your narrative voice is the lens through which readers will experience your story — it encompasses everything from your tone and language to the rhythm and pacing of your prose. A carefully constructed narrative voice can create a distinct mood that immerses your readers in the time and place of your story, without the need for any overt exposition.
Q: What are the most common tonal issues in early manuscript drafts, and how can authors address them?
Suggested answer
Tone – is the mood of a scene or story, in general. It’s like a bag of tricks containing style, voice and expectation. It promises a specific experience.
Emotional imbalances – create discord in the tone when a protagonist laughing or thinking something is funny when something sad or difficult has happened do not gel. It could be they have a dark/offbeat sense of humor, but this needs to have been conveyed for the above to work, so the reader stays immersed instead of stopping and thinking, eh?
Skewed focus – detracts from intended tone when, for example, authors use too much minute detail during a (high-tension) scene where you’ve got to exit the box before your air runs out! This upsets focus as we’re not interested in the wallpaper motif right now. Add sensory details relevant to the conflict, not ones that detract. Generally, you only need a basic amount of detail for a scene to be plausible and effective. Overdoing it misdirects and kicks out your pace and tension, which are part of the tone.
Tense – switching tense and POV format interfere with the author’s writing style and the voice of their narrator(s). Present to past tense in the same paragraph, and first to third person POV intermittently is jarring and ruins the way you tell. Your story unfolds and your characters talk on the stage you give them, but for this to remain intact, keep your tense clear. Not defining this means the reader cannot focus on which time or telling we are in and your tonal stage falls apart.
Voice – monotony. Character diction (word choice), sentence structure (simple or complex) and syntax (word arrangement) should be individual. If Jed and George both use street vernacular, one can express in a sharper, snappier tone, the other could use a more probing, gentler approach. Their tones steer reader insight and color perspective, populating the story with personality. If everyone speaks the same way, the effect is monologuing.
Tone or tune rainbow – excess shifting of dramatic tone alienates your reader. For a sinister thriller, overuse of slapstick comedy and romantic intrigue distorts reader expectation, just as whimsical reverie to hardboiled crime could be a choke. Not that you can’t have wild and wonderful swings! But the tones you use should suit your overall concept. Perhaps think of your work as a piece of music. Plotting your story as a tune with rhythm, tempo, key, etc. can aid 'tonal shifts' — and help compose the hues of your intentions and your reader's feelings.
Agatha is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Characters who sound the same is probably one of the most common tonal issues I see. If your characters all sound the same, none of them stick out, which creates a flattened tone throughout the story. Some writers will add (and write the text in) accents, but if overdone, this can be jarring and an obvious attempt to try to distinguish the characters from each other. It's more important to concentrate on the things the characters say, not how they say them. The content and syntax of their dialogue should be the thing that distinguishes them, more than any stutter or accent you give them.
Brett is available to hire on Reedsy ⏺
Returning to our earlier example from The Four Winds, nowhere in the passage does Moyes explicitly state that this story takes place in the 1930s. Instead, her narrative voice effectively evokes this period in the minds of her readers. Phrases like “indulged a little too freely” and “had awoken determined to find fault” have a sort of formal, old-fashioned feel to them; the well-to-do Mrs. Van Cleve may not be speaking here, but Moyes’ antiquated choice of language hints towards the days-gone-by that her story is set in.
The best might make it look easy, but integrating seamless exposition into your writing is no small task — it requires patience, restraint, and a creative approach. Remember, the most effective exposition doesn't just inform readers, but enthralls them, deepening their connection to your world and characters. With this post, you have the tools — now, go! Use them to craft a compelling narrative where background information flows passively through your prose.
2 responses
tommarello says:
16/07/2019 – 23:54
After reading the article studiously. He was most enamoured with the exposition demonstrated by Charlotte Bronte. 'I must endeavour to emulate this writing style' he implored himself hopefully.
Harrumphrey says:
18/08/2020 – 19:55
In other words, lots of authors TELLING rather than showing. Note to aspiring authors: Pssst! It's okay to TELL. It's a natural part of human communication, to inform simply and summarize information -- including the form of human communication known as the story. Yes, sometimes it really is okay to just tell the reader something. Don't listen to the literary hall-monitors who insist that you have to "show" every single bit of everything in a story; they haven't written anything worth reading and don't know what they're talking about.