Glen and Karen Bledsoe --> articles --> The Writing Process --> Crafting a Plot
Articles Index: Site Index: Getting an idea, once you've practiced idea
generation, is the easiest part of writing. Turning the
idea into a finished book -- that's the hard part! Creating a plot requires a certain amount of
organization. Some writers can simply start at the
beginning and write all the way to the end, but most
writers find that they need some kind of organizational
tool or underlying plot theory to keep their stories
coherent, whether they are writing a short picture book
or a long, involved novel. There are as many ways to craft a plot as there are
writers, and each new project may require a different
approach. While some writers of "how to write" books may
insist that some particular method is the "right" method,
most writers acknowledge that what works for them may not
work for others. Outline or no outline? Horror writer Stephen King says that he never works
from an outline. Other writers insist that good writing
can't be done without an outline. Even those writers who
claim that they never use an outline may in fact have an
outline in their heads, holding the structure of the plot
in their imagination as they work. Not all of us have
that kind of genius, and need some kind of written
structure to keep our stories from wobbling out of
control. By "outline" we don't necessarily mean the standard
Harvard outline that we all learned in English class,
with its Roman numeral headers, sub-topics, and all.
While the Harvard outline can be extremely valuable in
structuring nonfiction, fiction often requires something
more flexible. An "outline" can be any kind of visual device that you
use to organize your plot. It may be a spider-web-like
mind map. It may be a series of storyboards, such as
movie directors use. It may be a series of ideas written
on index cards or sticky notes and stuck to a wall, where
they can be endlessly rearranged. It may be a table
consisting of chapter titles and the main action in each
chapter. Many word processors come equipped with
outliners, and there are many types of software that will
outline or create visual mind maps (Inspiration
is one that many people like). An outline for a work of
fiction is a dynamic document. It gives you direction,
but it is more a predicted outcome than an actual road
map. In Creating Unforgettable Stories for Children,
an excellent introduction into the art of plot crafting,
Nancy Lamb shows how she uses chapter-by-chapter charts
to plan the main action and the side plots, which helps
integrate the side plots into the action. James Frey,
author of How to Write a Damn Good Novel and
The Key: How to Write Damn Good Fiction Using the
Power of Myth, uses the structure of the classic hero
tale as a structure for exciting action novels, and uses
a "stepsheet," a summary of the main events
chapter-by-chapter, to plan the action in the novel. Jack
Bickham in Scene and Structure shows how to
analyze a novel into scenes (action) and sequels
(reflection, planning, deciding on new action), a
technique useful not only for planning a novel, but for
rescuing a novel that has spun out of control. Robert Ray
in The Weekend Novelist begins with a sweeping
overview of the story's main action, using either a
linear or a circular structure, and building from
there. Basic structure A plot needs a beginning, a middle, and and end. That
seems obvious enough, yet writers struggle with all
three. Where should the story begin? Should it start in
the middle of some action scene, or should it give some
background first? What is the best way to put the scenes
together to show a clear, consistent story without
sidetracking? What is the best ending for the story? How
do I make the ending strong, rather than just letting the
action dribble away, or give an abrupt "the end"? Beginnings The beginning of your story is a crucial period
because this is where you grab the reader and give the
reader a reason to keep on going. The beginning is where
the reader gets a sense of what the book is all about.
The opening lines themselves usually give a clue about
the action of the novel. Consider the classic opening of
Jane Austen's Pride and Prejudice: However little known the feelings or views of such
a man may be on his first entering a neighbourhood,
this truth is so well fixed in the minds of the
surrounding families, that he is considered as the
rightful property of some one or other of their
daughters. This delightfully tongue-in-cheek opening accomplishes
three tasks: first, it establishes that this story will
be a humorous romance, thus giving the reader a first
clue into the plot (which in fact is summarized in those
two lines). Second, it sets up a problem. Whose daughter
is this young man perceived to be the property of? What
are the young man's and the young woman's views on that
supposition? Third, it hints at conflict to come. What if
someone disagrees with the common assumption? Hints at the content of the book, the problem, and the
conflict are three things to address in the beginning,
preferably on the first page or two. It is also important
to show the main character and to reveal what kind of
person that character is, not by telling (which was
common in early novels but is less used today), but by
showing the character in actions that reveal his or her
character. Finally, the opening needs to establish the
setting, both in time and place, which should be done
through description. A character wearing bobby socks and
Mary Jane shoes who is reading a "Buy War Bonds" poster
is established as belonging to the WWII era, just as a
character listening to Caruso on a wind-up Victrola as a
Model-T rolls by outside belongs to the 1920's. Middles For many writers, the middle can quickly turn
into a muddle. The middle is where tight structure
is most strongly needed, so that the action moves forward
and each scene contributes to the structure of the story.
Some classic stories from the early 20th century,
including the later Anne of Green Gables books,
Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, and C.S. Forester's
Mr. Midshipman Hornblower (one of the Horatio
Hornblower novels), are more a series of exciting
vignettes than a complete story in and of themselves.
While this structure was acceptable at the time, it is
less so today. With a few exceptions, editors today want
books that are one complete story, where each action
leads logically to the next. But how does one keep the action going? How do you get
a character all the way from New Jersey to Los Angeles on
a Greyhound bus without describing the whole dull trip?
Do you add exciting things along the way, shoving in car
wrecks or bus hijackings just for the excitement? Do you
simply say, "Five days later, Jason stepped out of the
bus in Los Angeles" and leave it at that? How do you
decide what is necessary and what is unnecessary in your
story? In Creating Unforgettable Stories for Children,
Nancy Lamb discusses "Throughline," a term used by
Hollywood screen writers. Throughline is the central plot
point, the impelling and motivating theme that leads the
main character all the way from the beginning to the end:
Scarlett O'Hara in Gone with the Wind strives to
keep Tara against all odds; Luke Skywalker in the Star
Wars saga strives to be a Jedi knight and battle the evil
Emperor against all temptations to join the Dark Side;
Dorothy Gale in The Wizard of Oz wants to go home
to Kansas. All action revolves around the Throughline.
There are obstacles to the main character's goals
(Yankees; Darth Vader; the Wicked Witch of the West), and
there are helpers along the way (Rhett Butler; Yoda; the
Scarecrow, the Tin Man, and the Lion). There is no
negotiating the Throughline; the main character is
determined to achieve it, even if it's clear to the
reader that the goal is unattainable or that achieving it
is going to cause more suffering to the characters than
it's worth. Once the throughline is established, the story should
be structured around how the character attempts to
achieve the goal, and what obstacles the character must
overcome to achieve it. This is where classic dramatic
structure can be useful. The structure of classic drama
calls for rising action with conflict and complications,
then a climax with the major confrontation, and finally
the falling action which consists of reversal and
resolution, coming to the last moment of suspense and the
final conclusion. This structure can be followed not only
in the overall plot, but within each scene. Even plots
that have a circular rather than a linear structure may
have the classic dramatic structure embedded in the
individual scenes. Once the overall action is decided upon, an analysis
of the scenes themselves can be useful, especially if
they're not holding together well. Jack Bickham in
Scene and Structure discusses the uses of "scene"
and "sequel" in structuring action. Scenes are action events, while sequels are reflective
events that follow the action and lead to the next
action. A scene begins with a goal. The character wants
something. Next comes conflict, where the character is
prevented from achieving that goal. Finally, the scene
ends either in disaster (the character can't attain the
goal) or triumph (the character succeeds, whether it's
the final success or an accomplishment along the
way). Sequels come between action scenes. A sequel is
characterized by an emotion that the character feels
following the end of the scene. The emotion leads to
thought as the character ponders what happened or
discusses it with others, and thought leads to a decision
as the character chooses what to do next. The relative lengths of scene and sequel vary from
novel to novel. A literary novel has long sequels, as
characters are more likely to think about and talk about
their situation than they are to engage in action. A
dramatic spy novel has longer scenes and shorter sequels,
as the reader is carried from one exciting event to
another, leaving little room for contemplation, except
perhaps as the main character decides what weapon to use
or what escape route to follow. When a novel bogs down, it can be helpful to write a
summary of the action, then use highlighters or colored
fonts to color-code scene and sequel. Too much sequel and
not enough scene can make a novel drag. Too much scene
and not enough sequel can lead to choppy action that
seems pointless. The scene is where the action happens,
but the sequel gives the reason for the action. Ends After laboring through hundreds of pages of a
manuscript, it can be tempting to end it at the end of
the final climax, and say, "They lived happily ever
after. The end." However, an abrupt ending leaves the
reader dissatisfied, and may leave too many loose ends
untied. A prolonged ending, on the other hand, is
tedious, and may give too much information. Should the ending be happy or sad? This depends in
part on the age you are writing for. Young children want
stories with happy endings -- happy at least for the main
character, who achieves what he or she wants. Some
middle-grade novels may have sad endings, though they may
also be uplifting in some way. Young Adult novels, which
are more likely to deal with painful subjects, are more
open to the sad ending than are books for young
children. Whether happy or sad, the ending should fulfill all
the promises you made as you wrote. A mystery should end
with a solution. A humorous story should end with a punch
line and a laugh. A love story should end with The Boy
and The Girl happily engaged or married. Sad endings,
too, should have some kind of satisfaction to them.
Sinners should find a path to redemption. Characters in
pain should find relief. Never, never pull a "fast one" on the reader, such as
the tired old "and Jane woke up to find it was all a
dream" ending. Don't suddenly bring in characters that
the reader hasn't seen yet, such as some long-lost cousin
that the main character coincidentally runs into, who
also coincidentally has the sure solution to the main
character's problem. And don't employ a deus ex
machina solution; that is, the heavens should never
just open up and drop a solution into the main
character's lap. If the character is locked up in a jail
cell, it's unlikely that there will be a convenient
hacksaw hidden under a conveniently loose floorboard just
waiting for the character to find it, unless the
reader knows ahead of time that someone else has put it
there, knowing that the main character would be locked
up. Refusing to pull a "fast one" on the reader is part
of keeping the promises of the story. Recommended books: Writer's
Guide to Crafting Stories for
Children How
to Write a Damn Good
Novel The
Key : How to Write Damn Good Fiction Using the Power of
Myth The
Weekend Novelist Scene
and Structure Plot 20
Master Plots and How to Build
Them
It is a truth, universally, acknowledged,
that a single man in possession of a good fortune,
must be in want of a wife.
Nancy Lamb
Writer's Digest Books, 2001
An excellent introduction to structured plotting.
James Frey
St. Martin's Press, 1987
James Frey's methods are well-suited to the adventure
novel.
James Frey
St. Martin's Press, 2000
Another of James Frey's books on plot structure, this time
using structure of the hero myth to create exciting
plots.
Robert J. Ray, Bret Norris
Billboard Books, 2005
Robert Ray's methods begin with a broad outline of the
story, using either a linear or a circular
structure.
Jack Bickham
Writer's Digest Books, 1993
Jack Bickham presents a structured approach to analyzing the
scenes within a plot to create scene-to-scene
coherency.
Ansen Dibel
Writer's Digest Books, 1999
Ansen Dibel presents an introduction into structuring plots,
building scenes, and using various dramatic techniques to
move the story forward.
Ronald Tobias
Writer's Digest Books, 2003
Ronald Tobias presents an overview of the major plot
categories drawn from plot theory, and how such plots are
generally structured.
Glen and Karen Bledsoe --> articles --> The Writing Process --> Crafting a Plot
