What is indirect foreshadowing?

Last week, we explored direct foreshadowing, the story’s hint that something or someone big, or both, is coming. But this week, we’re tackling indirect foreshadowing. It’s called “indirect” because the reader has to work for it:

What is the difference between direct and indirect foreshadowing?

Indirect foreshadowing:

Direct foreshadowing builds anticipation, creating the ultimate question in your readers’ minds… Who is that? Or…what happens next?

But with indirect foreshadowing, what you’re doing is making sure the story comes back full circle… is unified from the start. A good reader with an eye for hints will look for the clues. Though, for the most part, it needs to be so subtle that it seems that it doesn’t even matter.

And this is where you can build that awesome twist at the end. Because when the reader reaches that awesome twist, they can look back and see that the clue was there the whole time.

These clues are like breadcrumbs. They don’t really seem like much at first glance, but as the old saying goes, “hindsight is always 20-20. And when done well, they give your story depth and a satisfying emotional payoff.

Let’s break it down…

Indirect foreshadowing occurs when a writer subtly plants hints about things to come. The writer doesn’t draw attention to them. But they’re there. And here are some examples:

• Symbolism
• A situation
• It’s just an ordinary event. Doesn’t seem important at first.
• It becomes significant at the twist or ending
• It rewards those close readers and re-readers

Where direct foreshadowing builds curiosity, indirect foreshadowing builds credibility. This technique helps writers avoid the dreaded deus ex machina. (We’ll cover that in another post.) It prevents that feeling of a twist coming from nowhere, leaving you scratching your head.

Instead, your twist feels right.

Example 1: Roald Dahl’s “Lamb to the Slaughter”

In Dahl’s iconic short story, a pregnant housewife in the 1950s, Mary Maloney, waits for her husband to return from work. He’s cold. Distant. And then he tells her he’s leaving her.

Without flinching, she walks to the freezer, grabs a frozen leg of lamb and kills him.

That’s shocking enough. But the brilliance is in what follows. She cooks the lamb and serves it to the police detectives investigating her husband’s murder. They eat the evidence.

The twist is tasty, to say the least. But it doesn’t come out of nowhere. Indirect clues were there:

• Mary is described as calm and attentive, a perfect wife.
• The freezer is casually mentioned early on.
• The leg of lamb is retrieved calmly.
• The detectives’ casual conversation about “finding the weapon” is laced with irony, and then the irony screams at the end when the detectives are eating the lamb that she used to kill her husband:

“Whoever done it, they’re not going to be carrying a thing like that around with them longer than they need.”

One of them belched. “Personally, I think it’s right here on the premises.”

“Probably right under our very noses. What you think, Jack?”

And in the other room, Mary Maloney began to giggle.”

So it’s only after the ending that readers see it clearly: They ate the murder weapon while saying “Probably right under or very noses,” as he takes the last bite of the leg of lamb that killed him.

The twist works not because it shocks but because it clicks. The story doesn’t trick the reader. It tells the truth, but through indirect foreshadowing.

Example 2: Flannery O’Connor’s “A Good Man Is Hard to Find”

This Southern Gothic tale is about a family road trip gone wrong. But from the opening paragraph, something’s off, but unnoticeable if you’re not paying attention.

The grandmother dresses up “in case anyone found her dead on the highway.”

A passing mention while reading the morning paper of a serial killer called The Misfit doesn’t feel important.

The cat she hides in the car triggers the crash that leads to the fatal end.

None of this is highlighted as important. O’Connor never shouts, “Pay attention!” But at the story’s end, when the family meets The Misfit and is systematically murdered, it all lines up.

The grandmother’s manipulation, nostalgia, and clinging to outdated Southern morality are her fatal flaws. These flaws create the unexpected twist at the end.

Yet, the ending isn’t just surprising. It’s earned. And that’s the power of indirect foreshadowing. It doesn’t just shock, although at first it seems like it, it reveals.

Why Use Indirect Foreshadowing?

Direct foreshadowing builds curiosity, suspense, and intrigue. Indirect foreshadowing creates the emotions of shock and awe. The reader realizes the reason why. This is because we indirectly pointed it out to them, but it wasn’t obvious.

In all genres, it creates depth.

In next week’s post, we’ll discuss: Anaphora

Until then, go plant some breadcrumbs. Make your reader feel something… without knowing why.

Happy Writing!

~M.C. Convery