Power of the Unspoken
It’s time to talk about what we don’t talk about – or rather, it’s time to talk about the unspoken. Subtext can be one of the most powerful tools an author has, and it can draw readers into a story by hooking their subconscious along for the ride.
There’s a Zen concept I read about years back that has really stuck with me, like a burr in the tangle of unused information rolling around at the back of my brain. It’s the principle of leaving some aspect of an image or arrangement off-kilter. Leave something undone or just a little bit artistically crooked, and the viewer is going to want to reach in and fix it, whether they’re conscious of it or not. That’s engagement, and it’s what makes a reader turn the page.
A quick search tells me that the definition of subtext is “the unspoken or less obvious meaning or message in a literary composition, drama, speech, or conversation. The subtext comes to be known by the reader or audience over time, as it is not immediately or purposefully revealed by the story itself.” (literaryterms.net) When we use subtext in our work, we set things up to be a bit artistically crooked. There’s not a gap exactly – we’re not talking about digging plot holes here. But there’s the shadow of something from just off-screen, or a whisper left between the written lines by someone who’s just walked out of the room. As writers we should always be striving to give our audiences more story; subtext is all of the hiding places for that story to grow up in-between the words on the page.
I often feel, when trying to talk about subtext, that it’s a conversation about negatives and things that are not. Subtext is all of the things a character means but never says. It engenders the emotions that your reader feels without them ever being told to. Subtext can be tricky, too; you have to trust that your audience will supply the puzzle piece you purposefully left out. And subtext can even get more powerful when you casually let it disagree with the spelled-out story, such as a character mumbling about how completely unperturbed they are while they thumb the loop off their Colt’s holster. And the best subtext? It seems that, without fail, the best subtext comes out in revision.
Ultimately, subtext is what keeps our stories alive in people's memories after the last page. It’s the crooked picture frame the reader can’t help straightening. When we trust the reader to hear what isn’t said, we give them the pleasure of discovery, and that’s what makes them keep reading
References:
https://literaryterms.net/subtext/