The Plot Thickens

Evilgiraffe commented on the previous post to this blog, wondering about how to go about plotting a story. I love the name evilgiraffe, because giraffes ARE evil, even though they look at you with those enormous brown eyes and pretend that all they need to be happy are some tasty leaves. They're tall. Tall things make me nervous. Wait — we were talking about plots, and I need to put my mistrust of wildlife on the back burner for a minute, because it's not really relevant here. Or is it?

This has happened to every single one of us, I'm betting: you go to a party/family gathering/work or school function of some kind. You're standing around, minding your own business, when someone rolls up on you and starts recounting an anecdote in great detail. You try to listen to them and follow along, and when they reach the end of their tale, your internal brow gathers in a frown, and you think 'That's it? What was the point of that whole story?' And that's an example of a poorly-plotted story, right there. If the audience doesn't see the point when it's reached its conclusion, you haven't plotted well.

You don't want to be that person who tells an anecdote without a point, which means that you need to plan a coherent story arc. There are many schools of thought on how to go about this, but some basic rules apply, so let's examine those.

A story with engrossing dramatic tension needs several things: at least one character with whom the reader can identify; a catalyst for change that's presented to that character; a hurdle/impediment the character must overcome in order to change; a moment of truth in which the character triumphs over that hurdle/impediment; and the cool-off/denouement, during which the reader gets some measure of resolution.

Now, not every story arc presents itself in such a neat and orderly fashion. Some stories require several moments of truth as a bit of a learning curve for the character, or several minor crises leading up to a larger crisis. Some stories present the reader with a lead character who isn't especially sympathetic (I mean, look at Wuthering Heights, for crying out loud). Some stories offer a catalyst for change that isn't especially attractive (our hero is passed over for a promotion at work, for example, and decides to rob banks for a living because he's tired of being ignored).

So let's begin with one of the simplest and most often-used structures: divide the story into four parts, and call those parts "quarters". The first quarter of the story should be introduction and exposition. The reader meets the main protagonist, who will serve as the emotional tour guide for the story. We learn about who this character is, how and where they live, maybe what they're missing or the lesson they need to learn. Toward the end of the first quarter, we're introduced to the catalyst for change. That introduction sets up the escalating tension and increased tension in the second and third quarters of the story. Usually, there's at least one "crisis" somewhere between the second and third quarters as the story action escalates—think of that crisis as a landing on a flight of stairs. It breaks up the rising action and provides the reader with a moment to look around and figure out where they are in the story progression.

After the mid-point crisis, the action slows down a touch early in the third quarter, then starts to sharply rise again as we enter the fourth quarter and head toward the climax of the story. A brief denouement or resolution follows that climax, and you're done.

If you want to analyze this construction using one of my things, I'm game. In The Port Angeles Players, the story opens with Bella offering us an "easy in" to her life story via an internal monologue about how she comes to be in Forks. We learn that she was inexplicably dumped by Jake, and that Alice convinced her to move to Forks for a fresh start. The introduction of the catalyst for change happens right there in the first chapter when she sees Edward. It's there so early because frankly, I was lazy, and didn't bother revealing Bella's backstory in any kind of natural way—I just kind of threw it at the reader up front. I'd rewrite it, but again, lazy :-) I wanted to play with dialogue and form more than I wanted to be neat about the thing. It's no excuse. I suck, and I'm sorry.

The vehicle that my catalyst Edward drives is the play that he and Bella are involved with. So they get to know each other over the course of the play, and they get to explore the various challenges they each face when it comes to falling in love. The mid-point crisis occurs when Edward's slightly shady past is revealed to Bella. Then we sort of cruise along, and I distract you with relationship things while I introduce a potential crisis with James, which I've sort of vaguely hinted at from the second quarter onward. The James subplot blossoms in the fourth quarter, the action climaxes with the performance of the play, and then I wrap it up in three chapters of denouement and close the story with a zinger to Jake in order to complete the circle.

So, to recap:

First Quarter: Bella's backstory and how she came to be in Forks. She sees Edward. She agrees to audition for the play, where she is again confronted with Edward. Rehearsals begin, and Bella and Edward get to know each other better (chapters 1 - 8)

Second Quarter: Bella and Edward consummate their attraction and begin to develop more profound feelings for each other. Bella is honest with Edward about her history and her fears, but Edward holds back because he doesn't want Bella to think he views her the way he's viewed the women in his life thus far. (chapters 9 - 13)

Chapter 14: mid-point crisis, in which Edward's secrets are revealed

Third Quarter: Bella and Edward discuss and resolve the tension regarding his past, and their relationship progresses and matures. The James subplot begins to sneak into the narrative. (chapters 15 - 20)

Fourth Quarter: Bella meets Edward's parents. The play is staged, and the James subplot unfolds at the climax of the action. Denouement and resolution follow, and Bella has her revenge on Jake. (chapters 21 - 26).

And so that's a basic story arc. I could have wrapped this story up in about twenty chapters, but I bowed to fanfic convention and offered chapters with Edward's POV, which served to slow the pace a little, even though I tried to keep things moving along at a reasonable clip. Because TPAP is a screwball comedy, there's not a ton of heavy conflict involved. However, a reader should be able to follow a clear progression for the characters, and the plot needs to sustain forward motion even in the lightest comedy.

How do you plot your own story using a structure like this? You need to break your story down into bullet-points, as I did above. Note that story quarters often won't divide neatly, but they should come close. So if Bella is your main protagonist, maybe your story looks like this:

First quarter: Chapter 1 - 5 Introduce Bella. Tell us who she is, what she does, where she is, and what she wants. Tell us who she interacts with. Tell us a bit about her history. Create a secondary point of tension (job? school? friend? family?). Toward the end of this quarter, introduce the catalyst/main point of tension or dramatic conflict.

Second quarter: Chapter 6 - 10 Bella reacts to the catalyst. Initial discomfort gives way to curiosity, which prompts investigation and exploration. Secondary point of tension builds, prompting a confrontation of some kind. Continue to develop Bella's surroundings and explore how the catalyst affects these.

Mid-point crisis: Chapter 11 Secondary point of tension reaches climax

Third quarter: Chapter 12 - 16 Secondary point of tension resolved. Catalyst/main point of tension further explored, and tension builds as this quarter reaches the final chapter or two.

Fourth quarter: Chapter 17 - 21 Main point of tension reaches climax and is resolved. Final chapter or two provides clarity and closure, and resolves most important questions.

If you're just starting out, and the story you have in mind is a pretty straightforward one, keep it as simple as possible. It's very, very difficult to sustain compelling dramatic tension for more than ten to fifteen 5k-word chapters with only one point of conflict. So, if Bella is a shy high-school junior, and she longs for Edward, who is a popular senior, don't drag it out. Build up the tension for ten chapters, reach a single dramatic climax (get your minds out of the gutter) around chapter eleven or twelve, and then resolve the story in the final few chapters. The less room you give yourself, the less likelihood you'll cripple the dramatic tension. I'd much rather read a six-chapter story that's tightly-plotted than an eighty-chapter affair that wanders all over the place, even if the writing is so lovely that it makes me sob with pleasure. If you're serious about writing and hoping to have an original work published one day, know that tight plotting is an absolute must.

You don't have to plot out every blessed thing, but every chapter you write should serve a purpose when it comes to advancing the storyline. And by "serve a purpose", I don't mean that having Bella shop for a dress is enough to sustain an entire chapter, even if she'll wear the dress to a party at which she first meets Edward. Something needs to happen in every chapter—something significant, something that changes things for your protagonist. It can be action or a revelation, but something needs to happen in order to climb the stair to the next part of the story.