Flashbacks suck. Change my mind.
Let me start by saying this: I am emphatically anti-flashback. They are almost always foreign bodies in the story. And what's happened in the meantime? Look at this story, for instance:
Kate looked up and saw Daniel sitting across the restaurant from her, and it was like the years had just slipped away, and she was twenty-two again and desperately in love (and on and on and on) and meanwhile I'm thinking, honey, you ordered veal parm, and if you don't tuck into it now the cheese will have congealed and then it's not really worth eating. Okay, so that's interesting, but the waiter thinks you're having a stroke because you've been staring at this dude for like seventeen minutes. Kate? KATE! Earth to...I'm throwing breadrolls at you. There. I've just thrown a breadroll at you. Nothing. Why are you always doing this?
Kate snapped out of it and took a bite out of meal. "Oh, it's cold. Where were we in the conversation? And why are you already on the dessert course?"
That's the thing: the reader both likes seeing the past, but knowing that the main character is about to miss her train stop, that the coffee must be cold by now, the houseguests have likely pilfered all the silver, and the car is not going to drive itself.
That's my little rant.
Now change my mind.
Let me start by saying this: I am emphatically anti-flashback. They are almost always foreign bodies in the story. And what's happened in the meantime? Look at this story, for instance:
Kate looked up and saw Daniel sitting across the restaurant from her, and it was like the years had just slipped away, and she was twenty-two again and desperately in love (and on and on and on) and meanwhile I'm thinking, honey, you ordered veal parm, and if you don't tuck into it now the cheese will have congealed and then it's not really worth eating. Okay, so that's interesting, but the waiter thinks you're having a stroke because you've been staring at this dude for like seventeen minutes. Kate? KATE! Earth to...I'm throwing breadrolls at you. There. I've just thrown a breadroll at you. Nothing. Why are you always doing this?
Kate snapped out of it and took a bite out of meal. "Oh, it's cold. Where were we in the conversation? And why are you already on the dessert course?"
That's the thing: the reader both likes seeing the past, but knowing that the main character is about to miss her train stop, that the coffee must be cold by now, the houseguests have likely pilfered all the silver, and the car is not going to drive itself.
That's my little rant.
Now change my mind.