Prologue in a Book: The Story Before the Story

Tricky one! But honestly, I'm #TeamNoPrologue 90% of the time. Why? Because most prologues don't do much in story terms. A prologue only really works (and is therefore needed) if by the end of the story the reader gets a "ker-ching!" realisation about the prologue... perhaps they race back to it, and read it again, because now it makes sense, and adds something vital to the story.

I've worked on 300+ novels over the last eight years or so, and I've read a lot of prologues. My most common note on them: "Is the prologue needed? I think it could go. Just start the novel with chapter one?"

Ditto epilogues, actually. I had both a prologue and an epilogue in one of my novels. A reader who I know and trust told me my epilogue added nothing to the story: it didn't reveal anything new or additional. I was a little resistant to this at first. Months passed, and I realised she was right. I've since re-issued my novel without the epilogue, and it's a better novel for that deletion.

So weigh it up, and be honest about the role of your prologue. If you even have an inkling that it's mere baggage, listen to that instinct, and get rid of it. You can always put it back later if you change your mind.

It depends. Prologues, and specifically prologues that flash forward to a climactic scene later in the book, can sometimes be useful in cases where a novel starts slowly. Mind you, it’s usually worth asking why it starts slowly and what can be done to frontload more plot. But there’s a Hitchcock quote about suspense vs. surprise that I like a lot:

"We are now having a very innocent little chat. Let's suppose that there is a bomb underneath this table between us. Nothing happens, and then all of a sudden, "Boom!" There is an explosion. The public is surprised, but prior to this surprise, it has seen an absolutely ordinary scene, of no special consequence. Now, let us take a suspense situation. The bomb is underneath the table and the public knows it, probably because they have seen the anarchist place it there. The public is aware the bomb is going to explode at one o'clock and there is a clock in the decor. The public can see that it is a quarter to one. In these conditions, the same innocuous conversation becomes fascinating because the public is participating in the scene. The audience is longing to warn the characters on the screen: "You shouldn't be talking about such trivial matters. There is a bomb beneath you and it is about to explode!"

In the first case we have given the public fifteen seconds of surprise at the moment of the explosion. In the second we have provided them with fifteen minutes of suspense. The conclusion is that whenever possible the public must be informed. Except when the surprise is a twist, that is, when the unexpected ending is, in itself, the highlight of the story.”

To my mind, the best use of a flashforward prologue is one that plants that metaphorical bomb under the table. You give away something that will happen later on in the story so that the reader will A) want to know how it happens, B) feel an increasing sense of suspense and dread as we see things starting to line up toward the preordained scene, and C) be looking forward to finally getting to that scene so they can find out how it resolves.

I often include prologues myself. They can be an effective way of dropping in a story 'teaser' that then doesn't get answered until the very end of the story, thus keeping tension going all the way. The trick is to avoid giving too much away in them and also keeping them very brief.

I'm #TeamNoPrologue, and I'll give you a peek at why. There are two kinds of prologues:

Flash Forward Prologue

In the Past Prologue

In the first type, you jump forward to where the action is, to assure the audience that YES, good stuff is coming! Once you've hooked them with that, you can get back to the boring setup of who, what, and why that they need to contextualize the future action. But in the early 2000's, agents started wising up and thinking...you know what's better than having an action-packed Ch 1, then going back to the boring setup stuff? A story that's interesting right from the get-go! So I'd focus on designing the opening moments of your story to be fun to watch, while demonstrating what the audience needs to know.

In the second type of prologue, by definition, you're starting before the story gets going, in a bit of backstory that will become important later. The problem? You don't know why it's important until...later. So why would you want to read it now?

This is why my favorite advice is: Find the chase, and cut to it!

Think about the moment your story really takes off, and design the scene so we find out everything we need to know through the way that scene plays out! Instead of a chapter to show us your character is a party girl, then a second chapter where she has an alien encounter, show her passed out in a mansion full of stolen Slinkies from last night's party--then have the aliens abduct her right out of the middle of the wreckage. It's quick, it's bursting with show-don't-tell characterization, and it's fun to watch...no prologue required!

I am staunchly against prologues until I read one that works, and then I'm totally won over! In other words-- and unfortunately-- it depends.

While writing, I'd encourage authors to consider the advantage of labeling their opening section "a prologue" versus "chapter one." If they're calling something a prologue simply because it exists outside the normal timeline of the book's narrative, then I become dubious. I admire prologues which feel less like preambles and more like cannon shots. To me, "this prologue offers background information" is not sufficient justification. It needs to add something to the book beyond logistical context: intrigue, tone, voice, etc.

For example, right now I'm reading the novel The Extinction of Irena Rey by Jennifer Croft. The book begins with a prologue titled, "Warning: a note from the translator." This is not a literal warning from a real translator. Instead, it's a character within the novel explaining their point-of-view, their closeness to the book's subject, and the fact that "part of the plot is inspired by true events, and although I can't say which part... we live in Mongolia, which has no extradition treaty with Poland...." To me, that's super intriguing: an unreliable narrator immediately remarking upon extradition! Are they in trouble? What's going to happen in Poland? So while this prologue articulates some background information, it's equally concerned with tone, voice, and setting the plot in motion.

Depends on the book, of course, but in general, I like a well-done prologue as an intro to a novel. Sets it up, and can act as a strong hook for a potential reader when done right. Other times, though, when it meanders, it can be a detriment—I once deleted both the prologue and epilogue of a book, and the writer couldn't've been happier; he said it was exactly what it needed—ditch the setup, and don't overexplain the ending. But yeah, definitely depends on the book.

Like many answers when it comes to the craft of writing, the answer for me is it depends (I know, I know, a frustrating answer!) Prologues can be a swift way to draw readers into the story, giving vital information that can't be shown elsewhere. If they're too long, sometimes readers skip over them to get to the 'good stuff'.

When I evaluate whether a prologue is needed, I often look at a few things:

1. Is it too long and can it be shortened while retaining the same information?
2. Does this prologue contain elements that are vital to the story?
3. Does removing the prologue change the story in any way, good or bad?

If the answer to that last point is no, then that's a good sign that the prologue can likely be cut or doesn't need to be there. When deciding on whether to include a prologue or not, ask yourself: Can the information in this prologue be shown any other way somewhere else in the book? Is this prologue a sort of pre-writing exercise for me as the author to help me get into the world and characters, and can be cut later? And, as I evaluate, if I remove this prologue, what about the book and story changes?

Sometimes you may not know if a prologue works, and I like to read through the book in its entirety before deciding on whether the book would be stronger with/without the prologue.

I don't see any need for teams here. It's a question for each individual book.

A prologue can build suspense, like a teaser; it could be a flashback or -forward. It may be pointless: for example, some writers will call their first chapter a prologue when it's just Chapter 1.

A developmental editor can advise on this: they may suggest adding a prologue by pulling out a section of text from a later chapter; or blending the existing prologue into the main narrative; or renaming it 'Chapter 1' ... Whatever they think works for the book, they will say, and the author can agree or disagree, because it's their book and they always have the final say.

It depends, y’all! As an editor, I am on #TeamPrologue when the prologue serves an explicit purpose in the storytelling that could not be achieved otherwise. Does it create a compelling hook that could not be accomplished in a different way? Does it provide essential backstory, critical to understanding the story’s forthcoming arc, that would not fit anywhere else in the story? Is it presenting the overarching themes so that they will resonate throughout the entire novel?

I’ve worked on romances that have a backstory prologue that makes you feel for the main character in ways that could not be executed with another approach. I’ve worked on fantasies that have a bam-pow future-flash hook in the prologue that instantly makes the story a page-turner, a how-did-we-get-here? tale of suspense.

Ask yourself what the prologue is providing your story. If your manuscript can start in a simpler, more linear way, then maybe go with that instead. But I’m definitely #TeamPrologue if it services the story in a particular way that pulls at your heart strings, makes your heart start to race, or creates any other sort of heart-feels that get you to fall in love with a story.