Katherine Reay is a national bestselling and award-winning author who has enjoyed a lifelong affair with books. She publishes both fiction and nonfiction, holds a BA and MS from Northwestern University, and currently lives outside Bozeman, MT, with her husband and three children.

A few years ago, novels featuring a split-time structure hit the marketplace like a tidal wave — and it’s a wave we are still riding. Readers adore this format and publishers continue to eagerly seek great split-time submissions. I think the popularity of this story structure stems partly from its unique value proposition. After all, if done well, we readers get three stories for the price, time, and sensory experience of one. Talk about a great deal!

But what about writers? Well, I believe we fare even better…

At the most basic level, a slip-, dual- or split-time novel presents a cohesive story across two time periods. And while it’s not a prerequisite of the form, one storyline is often placed within a contemporary context. I find, and I suspect I’m not alone, that it’s the interplay between then and now which intrigues us. It invites us, as readers and as writers, to explore history while pushing us to question its consequences and implications in our own lives. When done well, a split-time story also creates a powerful bridge to the past which propels us someplace new, creating intrigue and tension as the two storylines circle, influence, and inform each other.

It’s this bridge—the synergistic magic of this “third story”—that brings the full novel to life and makes this structure so conducive to powerful storytelling. As writers we are able to offer so much more than two individual tales of adventure or self-discovery because the past doesn’t merely lecture the present nor simply offer readers the typical what “came before” backstory. We create a narrative in which the past speaks into the future as it simultaneously listens to it, exchanging energy both on the surface and deep within the novel’s meta-currents.

In composing a split-time novel, I believe it’s important to remember three things:

  1. Resist the temptation to write each storyline in isolation. It’s appealing and enticing to work that way because you not only want each timeline’s protagonist to hold a unique voice, but you also want to make sure each has a strong arc and plot line. There is the fear that one timeline might get muddled in your head or on the page by the second. However, you aren’t writing two story arcs — you are writing one novel and creating one arc of tension. Each character-step and plot-development, regardless of the timeline in which it exists, must capitalize on what came before it within its own story and within the other timeline. These are not individual tales that can be written in isolation then set within your novel’s overarching framework because they must weave and blend in a singular remarkable ride. I strongly recommend writing the entire novel, building the events and tension, as the reader will ultimately experience them—in tandem, chapter by chapter.
  2. Create several points of direct connection between your two time periods. While a character in each may be searching for something unique to and for themselves, you must create several points of contact between the two storylines that effectively call the reader’s attention back and forth—a characteristic or a personality trait, a fear or an internal driver, a relationship that the characters may or may not be aware of… These elements can be subtle or overt, and I highly recommend a mix of both as these connections not only form a bridge between the characters and timelines, but also a bridge with our shared humanity and the human experience—and that’s what our novels are ultimately about. Fortunately, your options here are only confined by your imagination, so have fun!
  3. And last—yet perhaps most important—make sure one timeline serves the other. While each story/timeline is vital to the finished novel and each can command an equal page count, everything in both timelines must be created for and serve the main character’s journey. The singular main character. That character may be part of the past storyline or the present one, but everything is for that individual. Even when creating a dynamic group cast, all elements and tensions in the novel must be presented, viewed, explored, and felt, through the lens and perspective of a single character. This is how emotional resonance is formed and that’s what readers remember—how a story makes them feel.

While I write character-driven novels and often plot as I write, I freely admit to loving this structural device and have published five split-time novels. This exciting format has allowed me to create a more compelling and dynamic experience for readers than I could have utilizing only a singular protagonist’s everyday world and viewpoint. I’m a firm believer that what comes “before” has significant impact on what is and what is to come and it’s tremendously exciting to explore the depth and complexity of that “live” on the page rather than presenting it in backstory. So I hope you’ll give this dynamic format a try and that you have as much fun with it as I do.

All the best to you and your writing!

The English Masterpiece by Katherine Reay

Lily has always wanted to make a name for herself in the English art scene, and her recent promotion to the assistant of Diana Gilden, the Tate Modern Collections keeper, is her first step towards her goal. But when they are showcasing their new Picasso exhibit and Lily realizes one of the paintings is a fake, she makes a name for herself, just not in the way she imagined. Now, after putting her and her mentor’s careers at risk, Lily must find a way to save their reputations. Everything is pointing towards the painting being real, but Lily knows something is missing, something is wrong about it, and if she can figure it out, she will secure her dream career and her freedom.

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