Hanging a lantern on it is NOT cheating

For those who don't know, the term hanging a lantern on it refers to when writers deliberately highlight something that is not what readers expect, but it is done in such a way that it's a fleeting moment, asking the reader to accept things the way the writer is presenting it. It's an important tool for any fiction writing that deviates from "normal" society.

But there are some writers who believe that hanging a lantern on it is cheating, but it's not. It's asking your reader to trust you and accept the world that you are presenting, asking them to put aside their preconceived ideas and beliefs long enough to enjoy the ride.

In today's post, I want to explore why hanging a lantern on it is an important device to have in your toolbox and how it can actually save a story from the fires of reader criticism.

Misconceptions about defibrillation

To help hammer home how important this tool can be, I want you to consider defibrillation.

Think back to the countless number of movies and TV shows that show a patient who has gone flat-line and how the first-aiders or doctors pull out the paddles—often randomly placing them on the body—occasionally with the body still clothed. They yell "Clear" and they push down on the paddles. The body jumps about… and by some miracle, they shock the heart back to a regular rhythm. Or not. Sometimes, there is another round of the body jumping acts.

Because of what Hollywood has done, people genuinely believe that this is how defibrillation works. But it's wrong. For one, defibrillation is not performed on a flat-line patient. It's performed on a patient that is in fibrillation—when the heart doesn't quite know what it's supposed to be doing and it gets confused. The little shock to the heart is supposed to act like a reset button, shocking the heart back into a normal rhythm… or stopping the heart, making it go flat-line. And in that flat-line state, those attending to the patient can do other things to get the heart going properly again.

In addition, the body doesn't jump like they depict on the screen.

And you should use direct skin contact. There is a reason why scissors are included in defibrillation kits for malls and airports.

Yet, people foolishly believe everything that Hollywood has shown us—because so many movies and TV shows have done it that way, so it must be true. (Enter the sarcasm and the rolling eyes.)

Here's the problem for writers. We know what we see on the screen is not true (or at least we should know that). But, if we write our scenes showing the realities, there will be some reader who gets all grumpy and tells us that we haven't done our research, saying that we didn't show it how it's shown in the movies. Because movies always get it right. (And the eyes roll again.)

But, if we write our scenes to align with the way that defibrillation is depicted in movies and on TV, then other readers will get grumpy with us, telling us that we haven't done our research, saying that Hollywood has got it wrong. (And they're right, of course.)

So, we're damned if we do and damned if we don't.

But this is where hanging a lantern on it plays in our favor.

We write the scene describing the situation using how defibrillation works in reality, but if the POV character is someone on the sidelines, they could mentally comment on how what they're seeing is nothing like what is portrayed in the movies. If the POV character is the one using the defibrillation equipment (or treating the patient in some way), they could either overhear a bystander mention the discrepancy with the movies, or they could mentally laugh at how you never see the reality in movies. However it's approached, it's short and done.

One sentence. A single line. And we've told the reader to just ignore what Hollywood wants you to believe and go with whatever we, as the writers, have put on the page.

Why it's important to hang a lantern on details

You don't know what preexisting knowledge your reader has, or what misconceptions they have that they are clinging to. And in both instances, the wrong step could result in poor reviews.

But the trick to using the lantern technique is to make it short—the shorter the better.

Consider the tradition of terrain from luscious forest to sandy desert. In reality, it's a gradual change, where the forest thins until you are left with a single tree or bush at the edge of the desert. Yes, sometimes you drive along the mountainside and see the sudden transition from forest to dirt, but it is normally the result of a landslide, which has other signs that accompany it.

But let's say that there is a specific reason that is plot-based where you want to have that sudden transition from forest to sand. Just have a character look at the transition and comment on how odd it is. "I wonder what happened." The other characters shrug and the story carries on as though no comment was ever made about the transition. It's almost a throwaway comment, but it's been strategically placed.

By doing this, you are highlighting that you know it's not normal, but there is a reason for it. But at some point in the story, you better explain what that reason for it was—or you'll get those like me tearing your plot apart and questioning your decisions.

Hanging a lantern doesn't need to involve a character

While the examples included so far have all included a random line from a character, highlighting deviations from the normal can also take advantage of setting and other devices.

Consider Star Wars and the classic image of Luke watching the sunset with the two suns on the horizon. Hello… Not Earth!

Or consider the opening sequence in the movie Divergent, where you see the river all dried up and the old ship on its side. Clearly futuristic and dystopian.

Or the opening line from The Calculating Stars by Mary Robinette Kowal. You get a tiny news snippet dated March 3, 1952, setting us in a particular period in history, followed by the opening line of the book: Do you remember where you were when the Meteor hit? Ignoring the awesome opening line that just pulls you in, between the two bits of information, we know we're in the 1950s, with all of its societal prejudices, but we also know that any preconceived ideas that we might have had about the world or historical context were blown to pieces when the meteor hit.

If you have a world that is following a 26-hour day rather than the standard 24-hour day, have your POV character look at the clock tower for the current time, with the hour hand pointing to the 13.

Or maybe your character would be looking out the window at the dark smoke cloud wall that stretches as far as the eye can see. (Go watch the opening of Shadow and Bone on Netflix for that one.)

All of these are examples are hanging a lantern on the differences that might exist in the worlds that we're being drawn into. They are short, fleeting moments that ask the viewer (or reader) to put aside whatever preconceived ideas they might have in favor of whatever the writer wants us to take on board.

Hanging a lantern on it is NOT cheating. It is asking your reader to just enjoy the ride as you take them on a journey into your fictional world.