Write Great Fiction--Plot & Structure

by James Scott Bell

  Got it? View your first draft as a disaster (does wonders for your ego, doesn’t it?). Actually, just understand your first draft needs attention. Using triage, get to the most important questions first.

  The first big question to ask is, What is the story I’m trying to tell?

  Wait! Shouldn’t I know by this time what my story is? Maybe. But there might be a deeper story trying to get out, something you were writing even though you weren’t fully aware of it yet.

  Stephen King has a nice metaphor for this. He refers to the boys in the basement, the writer’s mind working down below. Now’s the time to take a peek at what they’ve been doing.

  So analyze your story, asking the following questions:

  Are there places that surprised you as you read the draft? Why do you suppose that is? Is there material there you’d like to expand?

  What are the characters really doing in this story? Might they have issues you haven’t explored fully yet?

  Look to the places that drag. These might be scenes where you have avoided dealing with something deeper. What are the characters really thinking in these places? What are their passions, frustrations, and desires?

  Imagine alternative plotlines. How might your plot be different if it headed off on another tangent from various points in the story? You don’t have to follow them, but they might suggest other streams that can flow into the main plot.

  If any of the answers resonate with you, try writing a summary of your plot, but with the additional plot material the above questions have suggested. Write a two- or three-page synopsis, then rework it, adding new thoughts, characters, and themes. Think of this as getting closer to the story you really want to tell.

  Next, think about structure:

  Does your story play out naturally in three acts?

  Is there an immediate disturbance to the Lead’s world?

  Does the first doorway of no return occur before the one-fifth mark?

  Are the stakes being raised sufficiently?

  Does the second doorway of no return put the Lead on the path to the climax?

  Does the rhythm of the story match your intent? If this is an action novel, does the plot move relentlessly forward? If this is a character-driven novel, do the scenes delve deeply enough?

  Are there strongly motivated characters?

  Have coincidences been established?

  Is something happening immediately at the beginning? Did you establish a person in a setting with a problem, confronted with change or threat?

  Is the timeline logical?

  Is the story too predictable in terms of sequence? Should it be rearranged?

  All of this thinking is guaranteed to make your basic plot stronger. Now you’re ready to consider the other big questions. Be sure to take notes as you answer these questions:

  QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR LEAD CHARACTER

  Is the character memorable? Compelling? Enough to carry a reader all the way through the plot? A lead character has to jump off the page. Does yours?

  Does this character avoid clichés? Is he capable of surprising us? What’s unique about the character?

  Is the character’s objective strong enough?

  How does the character grow over the course of the story?

  How does the character demonstrate inner strength?

  QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR OPPOSITION

  Is your opposing character interesting?

  Is he fully realized, not just a cardboard cutout?

  Is he justified (at least in his own mind) in his actions?

  Is he believable?

  Is he as strong as or stronger than the Lead?

  QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR STORY’S ADHESIVE NATURE

  Is the conflict between the Lead and opposition crucial for both?

  Why can’t they just walk away? What holds them together?

  QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR SCENES

  Are the big scenes big enough? Surprising enough? Can you make them more original, unanticipated, and draw them out for all they are worth?

  Is there enough conflict in the scenes?

  What is the least memorable scene? Cut it! Now we have a new “least memorable scene.” Consider cutting it, too.

  What else can be cut in order to move the story relentlessly forward?

  Does the climactic scene come too fast (through writer fatigue)? Can you make it more, write it for all it’s worth? Set a ticking clock?

  Do we need a new minor subplot to build up a sagging midsection?

  QUESTIONS ABOUT YOUR MINOR CHARACTERS

  What is their purpose in the plot?

  Are they unique and colorful?

  Step 4: Brood Over What You’ve Done

  Just walk around thinking about your draft. Be careful not to bump into walls or other people.

  Do this for five to seven days. Each day when you first wake up, jot down some more notes about your novel, or write things down in a journal. Take one last look at all your notes.

  Step 5: Write the Second Draft

  Some writers begin their second draft at page one and write the whole thing as if new. Others cut and paste and use lots of the original material. You’ll have to see what works best for you. Only don’t resist a massive rewrite just because it looks like a lot of work.

  Great writing is a lot of work, but that being said, I don’t know of any more satisfying labor.

  Step 6: Refine

  The good news is from here on it gets easier. After the second draft is completed, set it aside for a week. Then come to it fresh and read it through. This time you will tighten or cut scenes, deepen characters, and expand or revise subplots. You have a solid story. This draft only refines it so the big elements — character, plot, scenes, theme — come through exactly the way you want them to.

  Some teachers advise that you “kill your darlings.” If you are so in love with a line, they say, it probably sticks out too much. You’re no longer objective. So kill it. Take it out.

  “But the poor darlings,” you plead.

  Use common sense. Always ask yourself if a “darling” serves the story or if it makes the reader momentarily aware of the author. If it’s the latter, you know what to do: Cut it.

  Step 7: Polish

  Finally, move on to the polish. As the name suggests, you go through and give everything that last bit of shine. Do a scene read-through, and ask yourself the following questions:

  Are you hooking the reader from the beginning?

  Are suspenseful scenes drawn out for the ultimate tension?

  Can any information be delayed? This creates tension in the reader, always a good thing.

  Are there enough surprises?

  Are character-reaction scenes deep and interesting?

  Read chapter endings for read-on prompts.

  Are there places you can replace describing how a character feels with actions?

  Do I use visual, sensory-laden words?

  Now, do a dialogue read-through:

  Dialogue is almost always strengthened by cutting words within the lines. For example: “I do not want to go in there now because it looks too scary” becomes “I don’t want to go in. Too scary.”

  In dialogue, be fair to both sides. Don’t give one character all the good lines.

  Great dialogue surprises the reader and creates tension. View it like a game, where the players are trying to outfox each other.

  Can you get more conflict into dialogue, even among allies?

  Learn to love rewriting because it’s a necessary part of the craft. You are going to be a better writer every time you go through this process. And your plots will be stronger by far.

  EXERCISE 1

  To get a feel for the revision process, take two or three chapters of a work in progress and print a fresh copy. Go through it and make the following marks in the margin:

  A checkmark if you feel the story dragging

  Parentheses around incomprehensible sentences

  A circle in the margin where you feel
material may need to be added. This may be in the form of stretching out tension or making the writing less “jerky”

  A question mark for material that may need to be cut. This could include long expository sections or places where you’re “telling” rather than “showing”

  EXERCISE 2

  Look at the chapter beginnings and endings in your sample. Is there an immediate hook in the beginnings and a prompt to read on at the ends? Revise them accordingly. Play with several alternatives, and then select the best.

  EXERCISE 3

  You can increase your awareness of revision by marking up novels you read with the symbols listed in Exercise 1. If something doesn’t work for you, try to figure out why. If something does work, try to figure out why. This is self-teaching of the craft at a high level.

  Chapter 12

  Plot Patterns

  When you steal from one author it's plagiarism; if you steal from many, it's research.

  — Wilson Mizner

  Over the years, numerous writing instructors have pointed out recurring types of plot patterns. The number of patterns varies. Is it thirty-six? Or three?

  No matter what number you prefer, it is helpful to consider different patterns if only to understand what they’re trying to do. Understanding plot patterns helps you gain a clearer comprehension of plot overall.

  There is another benefit to studying plot patterns — they may suggest fresh plot ideas to you. While the way a story is told belongs to an author, the pattern does not. Feel free to borrow liberally from the patterns as you brainstorm your own plots.

  You can even combine patterns to create a fresh plot. That’s what Dean Koontz does in Midnight, a combination of the film Invasion of the Body Snatchers and H.G.Wells’s The Island of Dr. Moreau. He set it in a contemporary location and peopled it with his own character inventions, and there you have it — an original tale that shot up the bestseller list.

  Below are some of the more prevalent plot patterns. I have not attempted to make a complete list. But these patterns seem to recur frequently, suggesting their timeless value.

  THE QUEST

  This may be the oldest plot of all. A hero goes out into the dark world and searches for something. It might be for a sacred item, as in the story of Sir Galahad and the search for the Holy Grail. It might be the search for a person.

  The quest for knowledge or inner peace can also form the basis of this plot pattern. The Catcher in the Rye is a quest plot — a young man searches for a reason to live in a world where most people are phonies.

  Rudiments of the Quest

  The Lead is someone who is incomplete in his ordinary world.

  The thing searched for must be of vital importance.

  There must be huge obstacles preventing the Lead from gaining it.

  The quest should result in the Lead becoming a different (usually better) person at the end; a fruitless quest, however, may end in tragedy for the Lead.

  Structure of the Quest

  Act I introduces us to the Lead and shows us some inner lack that the quest will help to remedy. If there is no dissatisfaction in the Lead, then there’s no believable motivation for him to go on the quest.

  In The Catcher in the Rye, we see in various ways that Holden is not at home in his skin. He is moody, sensitive, and somewhat depressed.

  The doorway of no return in Act I is the point at which the Lead commences the quest. In Catcher, it occurs after Holden has a fight with his roommate, Stradlater. This prompts Holden to leave school and go to New York. The quest has begun.

  In a quest story, there is a series of encounters along the way, giving the plot an episodic feel. In most of these episodes, the character suffers a setback. That’s the conflict. But as he struggles to overcome each setback, he moves another step closer to his objective, and thus the plot unfolds.

  In Catcher, Holden gets a room at a hotel. He then begins a series of encounters with people in the city. There is an encounter with a prostitute and her pimp, and later with a couple of nuns. He has a date with a girl named Sally that ends badly. He gets drunk.

  The quest is not going well for Holden.

  The second doorway, the doorway that leads to the final act, is usually a major crisis or setback, or some discovery or major clue. In Catcher, Holden ends up in Central Park at night, freezing. He believes he is going to catch pneumonia and die. He has been afraid to go home for fear of what his parents will think of him. But now, thinking that death is near, he wants to see his little sister, Phoebe.

  The encounter with his sister leads him to the central revelation of the book. She asks him what he wants to be, and he tells her he wants to be a catcher in the rye, an image of someone who saves children from falling off a cliff.

  There is a final haunting image with Phoebe on a carousel, and a famous last chapter that leaves open the question of whether Holden has found what he was looking for.

  The quest is a powerful pattern because it mirrors our own journey through life. As we encounter various challenges, we suffer setbacks and victories, but strive to move on. We all have a quest, whether we recognize it or not.

  REVENGE

  Another of the oldest plot archetypes or patterns is revenge. That is the way tribal man operated. You kill one of my brothers; I go after one of yours. Early storytellers probably inspired the tribe and trained boys with stories of heroic revenge.

  Revenge is a gut-level pattern, and therefore highly emotional.

  Rudiments of Revenge

  The Lead should be sympathetic since revenge is usually violent business.

  The wrong done to the Lead or to someone close to the Lead is usually not his fault; if it is, the wrong is out of proportion to the fault.

  The desire for revenge has an effect on the Lead’s inner life.

  Structure of Revenge

  In Act I, the Lead and his ordinary world are introduced. This world is a place of comfort so that, when it is violently disturbed, the reader will easily accept a novel-long desire for revenge.

  The disturbance to the world is the wrong.

  Following the wrong is a period of suffering. This bonds readers to the Lead, and gives them a rooting interest in the plot to follow.

  The Lead is someone who is wronged, or who is close to someone wronged. Charles Portis’s True Grit is about a girl’s revenge when her father is murdered.

  The wrong can also occur when the Lead is betrayed (and often left for dead) by a person he believes is a friend or ally. The Hunter, by Donald E. Westlake (as Richard Stark), is an example and forms the basis for the movies Point Blank, starring Lee Marvin, and Payback, starring Mel Gibson.

  Or the Lead might be set up to take the fall for a crime he did not commit, as in The Count of Monte Cristo, by Alexandre Dumas.

  The first doorway of no return is usually when the Lead discovers who did the deed. Or, in the alternative, discovers a way to get at the wrongdoer.

  The objective, as we have noted elsewhere, can take one of two forms, to get or to get away from something. In the revenge plot, it is to get revenge. The deeper motive is to restore order. A wrong has been committed, and by getting revenge the Lead hopes to balance the scales of justice.

  The Lead will be opposed, usually by the machinations of the one on whom he hopes to exact revenge.

  Or the opponent (in the case of Dumas’s tale, three opponents) may not know what’s going on. The Lead is hiding his intentions. The various confrontations he faces will amount to threats to his concealment.

  Act II consists of a series of confrontations that keeps the Lead from gaining his objective. He has a chance to kill the opponent but is frustrated by some obstacle. The obstacle may be a circumstance or another character, perhaps an ally of the opponent.

  So it goes, back and forth, as the Lead takes steps toward revenge and is set back.

  Finally, he is given a prime opportunity — maybe it’s a way to take away the opponent’s own loved one, his business, or his posi
tion of power. This is the second doorway, the one leading to the climax.

  Or maybe all the powers of the opponent and his allies create the biggest obstacle of all — the Lead is resoundingly defeated and almost dies.

  But the Lead survives the major crisis and rebounds to complete his objective or gives it up, as suggested above.

  Sometimes the Lead exacts his revenge, and it is satisfying to the reader.

  Other times, he may give up his desire for a greater good — mercy or some higher good. This must satisfy the reader through the idea of sacrifice: By giving up his objective, the Lead gains something far worthier. Giving up a desire for raw revenge and replacing it with a desire that puts the greater good first actually restores the balance.

  A revenge plot is a great way to explore human nature. The very real emotion of revenge is understood by all of us.

  What is the best way to proceed? Is it better to personally seek cosmic justice through revenge or leave it to proper authorities? Is it better to show mercy or is mercy, in some contexts, a fool’s game?

  What does the desire for revenge do to a soul, especially if revenge is the objective over a long course of time?

  Taking your readers on a revenge ride is a great way to make them turn the pages. When the setup is strong, and the wrong terrible, readers will desire revenge right along with the Lead.