I write fairly complex books set in a country that, for most of my readers, is foreign. I have rules about trying not to overburden them with details they might find puzzling. I use Italian words sparingly, for example, and try to avoid mystifying phrases as much as possible.
Even so there are always going to be things you can’t do in the text of the narrative itself. Should we make fiction easier to read by adding extra informational material? Possibly. Here are some extras that can work. But if you don’t need these additions, don’t waste time on them.
First, a map. My UK editions usually have maps now. Overseas ones vary according to the policy of the publisher. I wish they all had maps but that’s out of my hands. If publishers asked readers ‘map or no map?’ I know what the answer for my books would be: ‘Yes, please!’ If you think your book needs a map, say so when you deliver. You don’t have to provide it, but if you’re an artist yourself a hand-drawn one inserted into the manuscript could be impressive, especially if your world is a fictional one, say a fantasy land complete with oceans and mountain ranges. If the world of your story is an ordinary urban landscape I’d skip a map entirely.
A cast list at the front, detailing all the main characters? I’ve only ever done this once, at a publisher’s request, for a book with a fairly large cast of players that took place in two different eras. If you’re writing a dynastic saga set in Imperial Rome they’re doubtless essential. In a modern story, I’m not so sure. Best skipped for now, and you can always add it in later if required.
A table of contents – in other words a chapter-by-chapter breakdown of the book laid out at the front? Old-fashioned novels did this all the same. If you’re writing a book in the style of Dickens or Defoe, fine. If not, avoid.
A glossary? Why would you need one in a work of fiction? There may be occasions when the writer wants to use the right words to give you a local flavour or inside knowledge, but knows that, while you may have heard of them, you probably are a little hazy on detail.
I used a glossary in Carnival for the Dead. It’s set in Venice. I want it to be absolutely soaked in Venetian atmosphere. I can’t avoid using words that are local – carnival terms such as frittelle, gondola expressions such as forcola, architectural descriptions such as salizada. If I use ‘doughnut’, ‘rowlock’ and ‘paved street’ instead, it just wouldn’t work. In order to drag you to Venice I have to adopt the local vernacular.
So there will be a short glossary at the front of that book, and it will, I hope, contain every word that may raise doubts in the reader’s mind. But I won’t make a habit of this. Most of the time it’s simply unnecessary.
An author’s note? I started writing these part way through the Costa series and people seem to appreciate them. They’re principally there to separate fact from fiction and to give some historical and cultural background to the stories. I always place them at the end so they won’t spoil the story. And unless they add something – like all other extras – they will be avoided altogether.
Finally, reading guides. It’s become fashionable of late for some books to appear with sections at the back designed to offer insights into what the author was trying to achieve with his story. These are supposedly aimed at people in reading groups who want to discuss the work in question.
The last time I read Hemingway he came without a reading guide at the back. Why modern writers would need them is beyond me. Are readers supposed to think, ‘This book has a reading guide – it must be important?’ If so, the prevalence of reading guides, often attached to books that are general popular fiction titles unlikely to reach the curricula of schools and universities, is likely to diminish what little currency they have. If your publisher feels your book genuinely requires such a thing they will, I imagine, inform you of that fact. If they do, you might want to ask them why they want to give away what is often little more than a brief synopsis of the book to a paying customer who has either just read or is about to start it.
Call me old-fashioned, but if a book needs a separate section at the end to help you better understand what went before then something has surely gone wrong. Say what you have to say in the book, then shut up.
As a novice author you should not for one second think of including a reading guide along with your manuscript. Most publishing people will sniff a pompous, self-important windbag in the offing and recoil from everything – you, your reading guide and, worst of all, your book.