The Power of Foreshadowing

Foreshadowing is a powerful tool that will help you, as an author, rip out your reader’s heart or shock them into next week.

This is a bit of an exaggeration, but you get the point.

One of the greatest experiences in reading is being surprised by the events unfolding within a storyline, and one of the greatest experiences in writing is creating these moments.

So, what is foreshadowing?

Foreshadowing is the promise of what is yet to come. These are subtle hints that lead to a bigger reveal. They build tension and suspense, keeping your reader guessing.

While foreshadowing is frequently believed to only occur in the mystery and thriller genres, this is a useful tool across all genres.

In fantasy, we often see foreshadowing leading up to the twist. For example, when the seemingly quiet lady-in-waiting is revealed to be plotting against the queen, you look back to the times when it was noted that she wasn’t in attendance and when she showed up with mud on her slippers.

In romance, foreshadowing can be seen when alluding to the romance in the following book in the series. While the two main characters (the protagonist and the love interest) are the center focus of the story, a shared look between two side characters can allude to their romance in the following novel.

Foreshadowing requires some level of balance between giving enough information to intrigue your reader and not so much that you give away the twist. This is why we call it a promise. You promise to reveal a future event later on.

Imagine this as a scavenger hunt. You are giving your reader all the clues necessary for them to build their own conclusion, whether it is right or not.

Here is an example (in snippets) of this being done intentionally:

First chapter:

I had always been the kind of person to recount every situation in extreme detail, but parts of last night remained a mystery to me. Looking around the room, everything seemed normal. The furniture was in its regular position. My bag was on the entry table with my keys next to it. My shoes were kicked off by the door. There was a small wet spot on the rug in front of the door, but it was raining yesterday. Opening the front door, I noticed the rain hadn’t let up just yet as the concrete outside was still soaked. The wind must have picked up after I went to bed, as the doormat was a little off its usual placement. I adjusted it back to normal before closing the door to get ready for the day.

Later in the book:

Stepping out of the Uber, I stalked up to the front door. I dug for my keys in my bag, but couldn’t find them. Maybe I had given them to Jessica for safekeeping since we were drinking. Good thing I kept a key under the mat. I moved it aside. It wasn’t there. Shaking, I twisted the handle on the front door; It was unlocked. I swear I locked it this morning before I left for work. In fact, I know I did.

….

It had been a week since I changed my locks, but I was still a little uneasy about the whole thing. Trying to unwind a bit, I poured myself a glass of Merlot. The sun had set hours ago, and the moonlight was shining through the front window. This anxious feeling could easily be fixed by an episode of Grey’s Anatomy, a cozy blanket, and Chinese takeout. Settling down into my usual spot, I turned on the TV, but the angle was all off. My couch had been in the same spot for the year I’d lived here, and I always sat in the same position. Maybe it was the anxiety, but I could’ve sworn the couch had been moved.

…

I had a busy day today. Jeremy was meeting up with me for lunch at La Clé, a beautiful French restaurant downtown. I have a hair appointment at Stephanie’s Salon a few blocks down, an interview at Von Pierre, and dinner with the CEO at Vino Della Campagna.

…

Jeremy met my gaze, his crystal blue eyes scanning me.

“Do you ever think about us as kids playing house?” He laughs.

“Oh my gosh! Yes! You always wanted to be the husband and insisted on me being your wife.”

“I was nervous around those other girls! You were my safety.” He smiles, “We’ve come a long way since we were kids. Not everyone was destined to be as successful as you are.”

“Oh, stop. You’re successful, too, in your own way.”

“Working at an electronics store hardly counts as being successful.” He joked.

….

I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him close. Something pressed into my stomach. Probably his phone or something.

“You know I love you, right Jer-Bear?”

….

I shut off the light in the living room, striding to the staircase. A creak sounded under my foot as I rounded the couch. This was a new house. I had just had the flooring installed a few months ago. There was no way my floors were already creaking. Crouching down, I examined the board. There was a nail missing. I’d have to call the contractor in the morning to fix it and examine the rest of the house.

…

I layed on the couch, the silence deafening. Being successful meant being busy, which hardly ever left time for myself. I shifted on the couch, causing my skirt to ride up. Closing my eyes, I considered taking a nap, but then I heard a strange whirring sound. My eyes shot open. There was nothing there. God, I really need to get more sleep. I closed my eyes again, hoping to take myself up on that offer, but there it was again. Between the door and the weird stalker emails (please imagine these being brought up at some point for this example’s sake), I was on edge. I waited, listening, and there it was again, seemingly coming from somewhere near the TV. Jumping up, I examined the wall. Had that hole been there before? I grabbed the heel that I had haphazardly kicked off next to the couch and dug it into the wall. A camera. Someone had installed a camera in my home.

The twist:

I slid into my Buick, throwing my purse into the passenger seat. I was going to be late for Hannah’s birthday bash, fashionably, but late nonetheless. I fastened my seatbelt and put the key in the ignition. The smell of smoke and leather filled the car as I flipped down the visor to check my makeup in the mirror. Cold metal rested against my temple as my eyes locked on icy blues.

“Hello, Vanessa.”

With all of this information, can you make the assumption that Jeremy is the jealous ex-childhood friend who stole her key to make copies so he could break into her home and install cameras? What do you believe he hid under the floorboard? What are his motivations?

Did you notice that La Clé translates to The Key in English?

This is just an example of foreshadowing in a mystery/thriller, but there are a lot more examples of this online for other genres. I have put some resources below for you to dive deeper into this topic.

As always, if you are looking for an editor, please visit OakandDaggerEditing.org to submit an inquiry or set up your complimentary consult and sample edit.

Resources:

How to Use Foreshadowing in Your Writing

Mastering Symbolism & Foreshadowing in Fantasy Writing

What Is Foreshadowing, and How Do You Use It in Your Writing?

Literary Devices: Foreshadowing

“No, Don’t Tell Me”: How & When Should We Use Foreshadowing?

Writing 101: What Is Chekhov's Gun? Learn How to Use Chekhov's Gun In Your Writing