As the events of our lives' journeys occur in strictly chronological sequence, it is not surprising that our first instinct as writers should be to relate events in the order of their occurrence. Having once discovered the excitement of "warping the time-line", however, there is no turning back for the adventurous writer.

Narrators: the first time-travellers?

The concept of non-chronological story-telling is as old as the idea of the narrator.

In fiction the narrator views the action objectively. Often the narrator, speaking in the third person, is none other than the writer, relating the events that have already occurred in the realm of her/his imagination from the lofty standpoint of creator of the fictional universe whose story is being told. Even if the narrator is a character within the story, relating events in which s/he took part, the narrative is often delivered in the past tense, with all the benefit of hindsight.

Stories told by narrators are non-chronological at least insofar as the present world of the narrator constantly interacts with the past world of the narrative. Having established the principle that there are distinct axes of time, it is a very short step to a full-scale time warp: insofar as the story belongs to the narrator, the narrator may choose to organise the events of the story in whatever order s/he chooses.

Time warps without narrators

Since the twentieth century, there has been a noticeable tendency to include time-warps in novels, plays and films that ostensibly lack any narrator. Arguably this practice originates from the days of silent films, when the "narrator" interjected text between scenes to explain events that were not apparent visually, or to facilitate the rapid passage of time. Narrators became more important still with the advent of radio drama, which often depended on scene setting and time control by an outside character.

As audiences have become increasingly familiar with conventions such as the use of "flashbacks" in films and radio plays, producers have been free to experiment with abandoning the narrator altogether, leaving the time warps to speak for themselves. Harold Pinter's play, Betrayal, is a striking example of this: the scenes of the play unfold in reverse chronological order, turning a simple narrative into a puzzle to be solved by the audience.

Narrator or no, time warping serves two more or less distinct purposes: withholding information and heightening dramatic tension.

Preserving secrets

The murder mystery offers a prime example of information deliberately withheld for subsequent revelation. Usually, the murder occurs early in the story, but the full details cannot be revealed until the closing pages if the reader's interest is to be maintained. Obviously this same principle may be used to hold back any details that might "give the game away" too soon.

When planning the sequence in which information is to be revealed, it is useful to keep in mind the issue of subtext, discussed earlier in the course. In the early stages of a story, readers/listeners are presented with packets of information which are necessarily incomplete. Their minds begin to develop subtext to fill the gaps: hypothetical visual images that seem to fit the writer's descriptions, putative answers to questions raised by the narrative, and so on. If the readers' enjoyment is enhanced by rich subtext, the writer's task is to organise the revelations of the story in such a way that they fire the imagination.

Going backwards in time is not the only way to achieve this, but it is an important way, insofar as personality, behaviour and events are often shaped by early experience.

Dramatic effect

Having decided to introduce time warps, the writer is free to organise the elements of the story, without regard to their chronological sequence, for dramatic as well as intellectual effect.

For example, events may be organised to create a gradual build-up of tension towards the main climax. The classic adventure story provides a useful model for this: the hero undergoes a series of trials, each more daunting than the last; there is a build-up of tension within each episode, too, whose partial release helps to sustain the effect without allowing the whole to become too breathless.

A contrasting use of time warps for dramatic effect concerns the juxtaposition of two events from different parts of the time line that resonate when brought together. For example, we might see our hero as he is now, confident and capable, and then cut immediately to the moment when he took revenge for years of abuse at the hands of the school bully.

When organising events in these ways, one should always be mindful of the overall structure of the piece and, in particular, of the points where readers are most likely to give up. In terms of a play, for instance, the first act must end with something that will compel the audience to return to their seats after the interval, while the second act must quickly persuade them that coming back was worthwhile.