Should You Use Past or Present Tense for Your Story?

Have you ever found yourself deep into a story, only to realize midway that the entire tone shifted simply because of tense choice? I have—and I’d bet you have too.

It’s one of those subtle storytelling levers we tend to internalize after years of writing and reading, but rarely dissect with any depth. Yet past vs. present tense is more than a stylistic tic—it’s a narrative technology, one that modulates time, distance, and reader psychology in profound ways.

As expert storytellers, we’re always juggling voice, pacing, structure, and emotional tone. Tense is interwoven through all of these. It doesn’t just tell when the action happens; it changes how the action feels, how the reader processes it, and how the entire narrative breathes.

So today, I want to take a closer, craft-first look at why and when each tense serves us—and how mastering this choice can add a whole new layer to your storytelling toolbox.

How Past and Present Tense Actually Shape Storytelling

Past Tense: Trusted, Flexible, Deep

We all know that past tense is the default narrative mode in most Western storytelling traditions. It carries the weight of history behind it—literally. When you write in past tense, you’re inviting the reader into a space where the events have already happened, and you, the narrator, have authority to guide them through.

But this goes deeper than just convention.

Past tense gives us distance—and with distance comes reflection. You can modulate tone across time, weave in memories or commentary, and establish a hierarchy of narrative events.

Here’s a simple example from The Great Gatsby:

“So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.”

That sentence can’t hit the same way in present tense. The melancholy and inevitability are baked into the grammar.

Past tense also allows for greater structural freedom. You can shift through time seamlessly, create flashbacks, or frame the story with a future narrator looking back. Think of novels like One Hundred Years of Solitude or Beloved—stories that would collapse under the linear constraint of present tense.

It’s also worth noting genre expectations: readers come to epic fantasy, historical fiction, or literary fiction expecting past tense, and your choice here will either align with or challenge those norms.

Present Tense: Immersive, Urgent, Limited

Present tense, on the other hand, is a different beast—and one that deserves more respect than it sometimes gets from traditionalists.

Present tense collapses the narrative distance. Events happen now, and the reader is caught inside the same flow of time as the characters.

A classic example from The Hunger Games:

“I wake up to the sound of rain.”

Simple, immediate, visceral. The reader is inside Katniss’s head from the first line, with no reflective narrator to mediate the experience.

Why does this matter? Well, present tense creates urgency and intimacy. That’s why it’s become a go-to for thrillers, YA fiction, and experimental literary works. You’re not telling a story—you’re enacting it.

But it comes at a cost. Structural flexibility is limited. Flashbacks and shifts in perspective can feel clunky or intrusive. The style also demands sustained tension and forward momentum—your prose will need to do more heavy lifting because the tense itself won’t provide inherent gravitas or narrative distance.

I once tried writing a multi-POV novel in present tense, and it taught me fast: present tense magnifies inconsistencies. Readers will notice voice shifts, pacing stalls, and tonal mismatches much more quickly. It’s an unforgiving lens.

Tense as Emotional Architecture

Here’s the deeper insight I want to leave you with: tense isn’t just about time—it’s about emotion.

Past tense encourages reflection, breadth, and layered storytelling.
Present tense demands immediacy, tight focus, and visceral experience.

In other words, when you choose your tense, you’re also choosing how your reader will feel the story.

And for us, as experienced storytellers, that’s where the real magic lies—not just in making grammatical choices, but in building an emotional architecture that resonates.

When to Use Which Tense in Your Story

One of the most common questions I get from fellow writers is: “Okay, but how do I know which tense to choose?” And honestly, it’s a great question—because while we all can write in both, choosing the right one isn’t just about personal preference.

Tense affects the entire architecture of your story.

Over the years, I’ve developed a kind of mental checklist for this. I don’t treat it like a rigid formula, but more like a set of guiding questions that help me feel out what the story wants. Let me share them with you, in a way that you can adapt to your own process.

Use Past Tense When:

You’re writing a big, sweeping narrative.
If your story spans multiple generations, covers historical events, or moves between different time periods, past tense is your best friend. It lets you shift perspectives and timelines without jarring the reader.

Think about something like Middlesex by Jeffrey Eugenides or Cloud Atlas by David Mitchell. Those books would be nearly impossible to write entirely in present tense without losing the layered richness of the story.

You want to create narrative distance.
Sometimes your protagonist isn’t someone the reader needs to fully become. Sometimes, you want them to observe, reflect, or judge. Past tense allows for that distance. It gives space for the narrator’s voice to add commentary, irony, or wisdom.

A good example here is Lolita. The unreliable narrator’s reflections would feel too claustrophobic in present tense. Past tense allows for that chilling dance of charm and horror.

You need narrative flexibility.
Want to insert a flashback? Zoom out to a wide historical context? Foreshadow future events? Past tense gives you these tools naturally. In present tense, these shifts can feel forced or overly stylized.

Genre expectations align with it.
Most readers expect past tense in literary fiction, epic fantasy, historical fiction, and certain forms of speculative fiction. You can absolutely subvert that, but it should be a conscious choice—not a default.

Use Present Tense When:

You want to create immersion and immediacy.
This is where present tense really shines. It makes the reader feel like they are inside the moment, with no filter.

Look at a book like Room by Emma Donoghue. The use of present tense from the child narrator’s point of view enhances the claustrophobia and innocence of the story.

Your story is limited in scope and time.
Present tense works beautifully for stories that unfold in a narrow time frame—a single day, a short sequence of events, or a tightly focused internal journey.

Think Mrs Dalloway or The Girl on the Train. These books rely on the unfolding now to keep the reader hooked.

You want heightened emotional stakes.
Because present tense doesn’t allow the comfort of distance, it forces the reader to experience emotions in real-time. Grief, fear, joy—they all hit harder when we’re walking through them moment by moment with the character.

You’re writing in deep POV or stream of consciousness.
Present tense pairs naturally with deep point of view, where the narrative sticks tightly to the character’s perceptions. It also suits experimental or stylistic prose where voice is the main driver of the reading experience.

Advanced Ways to Use Tense in Expert Storytelling

If you’re still reading, I know you’re not a beginner. You’ve written enough stories to understand that the rules of craft are tools, not laws.

So let’s talk about how tense can be used strategically, not just as an on/off switch between past and present.

Mixing Tenses for Narrative Effect

One of my favorite techniques is mixing tenses deliberately to achieve a layered narrative. Done well, this creates depth and contrast. Done poorly, it confuses the reader.

Here are some patterns I’ve found effective:

Frame narrative in past, flashforwards in present: You can write the main story in past tense, but when the narrator anticipates or imagines future events, shift briefly into present tense. This creates a sense of longing or dread.
Example: The Road by Cormac McCarthy does this to stunning effect.
Present tense action with past tense reflection: In experimental literary fiction, you sometimes see present-tense narration that slips into past tense for moments of reflection or memory. This lets you preserve immediacy while allowing depth.
Example: Jenny Offill’s Dept. of Speculation plays with this beautifully.
Flashbacks in past tense within a present-tense narrative: This is tricky but effective. When your story is happening in the now, but your character recalls a formative moment, shifting to past tense signals this change in timeline naturally.

Matching Tense to Genre Expectations

As advanced writers, we know that genre carries reader expectations—and we can use these expectations to either meet or subvert the reader’s experience.

Thrillers and YA: Present tense has become very common here because it creates a cinematic, fast-paced feeling. But if you want to create a thriller with a more reflective or noir tone, past tense can work just as well—think of Gone Girl.
Literary fiction: Both tenses are used, but present tense often signals a more “voice-driven” or stylistically bold approach. When I see present tense in literary fiction, I expect the prose itself to be part of the appeal.
Fantasy and historical fiction: Readers largely expect past tense here, because these genres often involve world-building and time shifts. Present tense can feel too modern or jarring unless used very intentionally.

How Tense Affects Reader Psychology

This is where it gets really fascinating. Studies in cognitive narratology suggest that tense choice affects how readers process and remember a story.

Past tense: Encourages a more reflective, evaluative reading mode. Readers are more likely to process events analytically and remember the story as a complete narrative.
Present tense: Triggers a more immersive, in-the-moment experience. Readers feel events more viscerally, but may retain less of the overarching plot structure.

I often think about this when deciding which tense to use. If I want the reader to feel the story and carry that emotional experience with them, present tense might serve best. If I want them to understand and reflect on the story’s meaning, past tense often works better.

Voice and Style Synergy

Finally, let’s talk about how tense affects your prose style.

Present tense tends to push writers toward shorter sentences, leaner prose, and immediate description. It’s hard to get away with lush, digressive writing in present tense without slowing the story down too much.
Past tense accommodates a wider range of voices. You can write sparse Hemingway-esque prose, or dense Faulknerian paragraphs, all within past tense without breaking the reader’s expectations.

So if you’re crafting a story where voice is key—consider how your tense choice will either constrain or liberate your style.

Before You Leave…

Choosing your story’s tense isn’t just about grammar—it’s about how your story breathes, how it feels in the reader’s hands, and how it lingers in their mind.

If you take one thing from this, it’s this: be intentional. Don’t choose a tense because you “always” write that way. Let the story tell you what it needs. Listen to its voice, its rhythm, its emotional core.

And don’t be afraid to experiment. The more you play with tense, the more you’ll discover how powerfully it can shape your storytelling.

Now go write something bold—and see where the time takes you.