Please excuse me while I assign already well-loved terms new meanings for my own benefit. (This is to say, writing terminology means something slightly different or goes by slightly different terms depending on who you ask. Two of the definitions I use here are based ones that stuck with me, while the third is something I pulled right out of my backside because it didn’t quite fit with my acquired definitions of the other two. Other terms and definitions are equally valid; I’m just using these ones until I figure out how to telepathically funnel wordless concepts.)
First let’s get basic: What’s a plot anyway? Tis a bunch of things that happen to move your character toward something. Usually this something is a goal. Win the war. Find the killer. Survive the winter. Get through the wedding. Kill the dragon.
Plots (should) have important scenes within them which propel them along. A full book that’s just a knight walking on a path for twenty-five chapters thinking about killing a dragon and then finally reaching the dragon to do so it boring. A book about a knight facing random trials that have nothing to do with the dragon she’s set out to kill is more interesting then walking. But the most engaging version of this plot would be if each trial she faced was connected to the dragon killing in some way.
We could, if we wanted to, label each of these trials with terms like plot point, a plot twist, or a plot hinge, depending on how they interact with the story as a whole. (Now I have to define what each of these terms mean to me. I set myself up here, didn’t I?)
We probably all know what a plot twist is. A big reveal. A shocking conclusion. A revelation that puts the whole story into a new light. (Luke, I am your father!)
Most writers will describe a plot point as some version of ‘an event which progresses the plot.’ This is all fine and dandy until you have to decide what counts as progress and how much of it you need for something to genuinely be a plot point. For the sake of this article, I’m going to call it anything that has a noticeable effect on either the ultimate or immediate goal of the story.
A plot hinge is a type of plot point. It can also include a plot twist. But not all plot twists or plot points are plot hinges, because a hinge actively swings the plot in a new direction. It takes the goal the story is set upon, and it rattles that mother-fork until its eyes pop out.
Let’s have some examples, shall we?
A knight is crossing a mountain on her way to slay a dragon.
While at the mountain, she fights a random dwarf. It’s a nice action bit where she’s in peril a few times and at the end, she kills the dwarf and continues down the other side of the mountain. A real page turner. (Spoilers: it’s probably, actually, not.) It’s also not a plot point (or, a plot anything), because the entire segment could have been cut without anything else changing. This whole scenario has no effect on what the plot’s current goal is, how it’s being accomplished, or how we perceive it.
If instead, while at the mountain, our valiant knight fights a dwarf with ancient knowledge on forging dragon-killing weaponry and convinces him to forge her a dragon-killing sword that ends up being the only reason she can kill the dragon at all, then you have what’s purely a plot point. The goal of the plot hasn’t been altered, nor our perception of it, but we’ve taken an irremovable step towards accomplishing it.
If instead, while at the mountain, our valiant knight uncovers ancient knowledge that reveals the villainous dragon is actually part of a much larger system of dragons with magical human form, and her own mother was secretly a dragon, giving her dragon blood of her own, this is purely a plot twist. The goal of the plot hasn’t changed, and we’re not closer to having killed the dragon, but our perception of the plot, how our main character fits within it, and what it should mean to us as readers, has been altered.
Pretty basic, yes?
Now imagine that those two things both happen while our knight is at the mountain, but as she’s leaving, the dragon she’s been riding out to face finds her. They battle. Barely prepared, our knight is losing terribly. She tries to flee, making it to the nearest town before the dragon finds her. In order to lay him low, his must use both her dwarfish weapon and her secret dragon powers. The town sees this, and decides she, too, is the enemy. A town guard steals her dragon-killing sword and tries to slay her with it. In a moment of compassion, the dragon she nearly killed helps her escape the town, but every knight our valiant half-dragon once fought alongside now sees her as a monster. And they’re coming for her.
This is a plot hinge. We just flipped out perception of the plot, tackled and crashed right through our main goal, and opened the doors for a new goal that’s still adjacent to our original one (and might still lead back to it by the end of the book—who knows, the villainous dragon might still need to be killed after all).
The trick with plot hinges, is the throw the reader for just enough of a loop to make the story fresh and interesting, without letting them question why the story before and after the plot hinge aren’t separate books. For a plot hinge to work, the plot must be pushed without being torn off the hinges. The old goal can’t be left dangling, limp with unfulfilled promise, and the new goal must build off everything the book has already established.
When done well, though, a plot hinge can turn a “this is enjoyable!” story into one that makes readers go “oh god, please read this, I NEED someone to scream at, I’m literally dying.”
I’m not going to tell you how many of these you should have in any given story. I’m not even going to tell you that you need to have any of them. (That would be hypocritical, as not all of my own stories do. Some are pulled along by simply plot points and twists, and they’re still perfectly enjoyable, if I do say so myself.)
You can also slip plot hinges into side plots, and make cases for what constitutes a hinge in character development. And at the end of the day, there’s a hundred different ways to build tension into a story and engage the reader. This is just the one I’m having fun identifying and analyzing at the moment.
And I hope you can set out and have fun with it to.
(Also, call it by my personal terminology. Pretend I, and I alone, invented a brand-new kind of plot point. Buy my book. Ascend me to godhood. Rebel and kill god-me to take back the world for humanity. Something like that.)
When you struggle to connect the main plot points.
Anonymous asked:
Hi, I have a big problem with details and little events, like I know the main events that will happen, but I struggle to write between them, do you have any tips on that? Thank you so much for everything you are doing on this blog and I wish you the best of luck with your writing!
Fore word: This is how I do the thing. It’s not the only way to do the thing, nor the “right way,” just one way, which happens to work really well for me. I hope it helps you too, but if it doesn’t, there’s still a good method out there for you. Don’t give up; keep searching and trying new techniques!
Coming out of a main event (plot point) you should have a mix of these things:
A protagonist who made choices they were unsure about, and now carries an emotional burden of some kind.
Multiple primary and secondary characters who are emotionally and/or physically effected by the event.
Characters whose actions and choices during the event conflicted and who are now at odds in some way.
Unresolved plot details.
You also likely have new plot information to set up prior to the next main plot point, which might include anything from the main characters sitting down and physically deciding what to do next, to traveling long distances, to the reveal of information which will lead the characters to the next main plot point.
Usually this connective segment, which can range anywhere from one short scene to many chapters, creates a sense of “downtime,” or a lower point of tension which lets your reader relax after the trauma of the last plot point.
Not all of them will actually be low in tension. That’s good! We don’t want to drop all tension at any point in the story. We want to let the reader breathe without losing their interest.
How do we actually create these “downtime” sections?
I had to write two of these exact sections to connect a plot point in AFS last week, and this is the progressions it went through:
STYLE ONE: In which I have limited room for creativity because I know the scene must take place during a border crossing, and my goal is to make the border crossing more than just a boring description of four characters worrying about things while they walk across the border.
1. Write down any leftover tension (emotional, physical, mental).
I knew the character had to go from one plot point to the next in order to recruit another main character and have a run in with the secondary villains. These characters come out of the previous plot point with five specific emotional ordeals:
The protagonist and Pine Head were very close once but are now so badly at odds that they can’t seen to work together.
The protagonist has been working with Fairy Child but doesn’t really know her as a person.
Pine Head’s sort-of-boyfriend Teddy Bear has been experiencing health issues that Teddy Bear doesn’t want to talk about.
The antagonist wants something from Pine Head and the protagonist is paranoid they’ll show up at any point.
The protagonist is realizing he’s not the amazing person he thought he was.
2. Make use of the tension to carry the reader through.
The protagonist fears the antagonist appearing, so that’s just what’s going to happen, and I’ll structure the segment around it. On the way to the main event I’ll add a scene where:
The antagonist show up. (Fulfils #4)
Pine Head and the protagonist are forced to work together in a small way, even though they’re still angry. (Fulfils #1)
The protagonist forgets about Fairy Child and subsequently realizes he doesn’t actually know or think about her and feels guilty over that. (Sets up #2).
Teddy Bear gets hurt. (Reinforces #4)
The antagonist implies that the protagonist is a hypocrite. (Reinforces #5)
With these components, I create a full scene (which has a lot of spoilers in it, so I won’t outline it.) This scene is still a fairly high tension scene though. After the protagonist recruits the new character during the next plot point, I want a low tension scene that will lead into the next major plot segment.
STYLE TWO: In which I can do literally anything I want, as long as it’s good and connective.
1. Where does this take place?
Setting is important. A good setting provides unique opportunities for the character to interact with each other and their world in a way they wouldn’t in any other setting.
For this section, the characters are traveling through a rural part of the protagonist’s homeland, in which there are towns build in valleys. I could have them talk while they walk through tree, which would be the epitome of an uninteresting setting. They could enter a town and have some nice little discussions while buying goods at the store, which might give more room for interesting things to happen but is still lower on the interest scale.
I’m choosing to have them enter a town which is having an evening lights festival. The town is built in steps along a valley side, there are traditional games and food abounding, fireworks planned for after sunset, and a spring storm is approaching. This gives the characters a chance to interact with the culture, and a variety of activities and people, and provides a nice aesthetic.
2. Leftover tension and future setups.
During this segment, I have a few points which I need to hit:
The protagonist gets to know Fairy Child.
The protagonist and Pine Head laugh together like old times.
The protagonist can’t tell if Pine Head and Teddy Bear are really dating and approaches Teddy Bear about it.
Addition things I know I want to show:
Fairy Child and the New Character are obvious foils for each other.
Set up New Character’s developmental arc for this book.
Foreshadow a reveal from much later in the book.
Have Teddy Bear get his injuries looked at.
Reveal a piece of information vital to the next plot arc.
Let the New Character and Fairy Child train together in some way.
Let the protagonist angst a bit over one aspect of his character development.
3. Combined to create a fluid scene.
Maybe the protagonist goes to see Teddy Bear while Teddy Bear is getting his injuries looked at, while he’s there they talk about Teddy Bear’s relationship with Pine Head. Teddy Bear’s softness toward Pine Head mutes some of the protagonist’s anger and allows him to have a moment of light-hearted fun with Pine Head when Pine Head appears to check on Teddy Bear. Because of this light-heartedness, they decide to grab Fairy Child and New Character and go enjoy the festival for a bit...
4. Don’t glue yourself in place.
I wrote the above process a week ago and have since finished the scene I outlined during it, and while a lot of what I had originally outlined created a fantastic base, there were also things which happened while writing it which I hadn’t expected (but were great none-the-less), so don’t worry if you start writing and realize you have more you want to include or things you want to flat out change. That’s what outlines are for. They give you a foundation on which you can rebuild things without having to rewrite.
For more writing tips from Bryn, view the archive catalog or the complete tag.
Pro-order Bryn’s debut novel, Our Bloody Pearl, today!
Are weak plots really bad? Bc I can't really think about a real good one
A plot is merely a series of plot points, so for this, we need to answer the following questions:
What is a plot point?What makes a plot point strong?
In order for something to be a plot point to begin with, it must provide a point within the plot where the story could go in more then one direction. In most situations, it’s the character’s choices (generally those of the main character, though not necessarily) which pick the direction the plot takes from this point.
Looking at a plot point from this angle, we can deduce that the plot has a lot to do with who our character is. This makes sense. Goals are absolutely necessary for almost every story imaginable, because if your character doesn’t want something then you have no plot.
So we have a character who’s striving towards their goal. How do we turn that into a strong plot point? Characters who have goals should also have beliefs, (or in some cases, secondary goals), and these two things must conflict somewhere. Anywhere the character must choose between them, we have a foundation on which to build an interesting, strong plot point. On the other hand, if we don’t have these things, our plot point won’t ever be as strong as it might otherwise have been, no matter how many cool things we throw into it.
So to create a strong plot point we can start with a character who needs to make a choice in order to reach their goal. We make this choice more interesting by throwing road blocks at the character. It might help to ask yourself these sorts of questions:
What can we throw at this character to make them change their choice partway through?
What can we throw at this character which we know will stress them out personally?
What can we throw at this character after they’ve made their choice, which they’ll have to now overcome because of the choice they’ve made?
What sort of consequences will come out of this choice and how do we show them?
And if you’re willing to do some work in order to find a realistic way for your character to get out of the situation: What can we throw at this character which will turn this into their worst nightmare; the most awful possible version of this situation?
Knowing what makes a strong plot point, we can finally answer the question: Are weak plot points – and the weak plots they create – really bad?
Plot points and plots with weak foundations are really bad, yes. Weak plot points which don’t revolve around a character making tough choices in order to reach their goals will generally fall flat to readers.
But, not every plot point needs to be a crazy, chaotic mind blowing twist either.
Sometimes the choices we find most emotional and stressful are the ones everyone else tells up should be easy. The key to engaging your reader in a plot point is to convince them that this is emotional and stressful for your character and that your character believes there will be consequences to making a bad choice, and to instill in them the need to know what choice your character will make and what outcome that choice will bring.
tl;dr Plots don’t have to be constantly unique or fancy or even action-packed in order to engage a reader. They simply need to show a series of plot points where a character the reader is already engaged with has to make a decision which will change the course of the plot.
How do you know when you have enough arcs before the main arc?? Like, I have four or five arcs before the climax, is this okay?
A minor note: Your entire story should be your main arc, unless you’re writing an anthology or a television show. The other, smaller arcs all build towards the climax, but they’re a part of the main arc.
How do you know you have the right number of plot arcs?
There’s no set number of plot arcs you should have in a story. Some novels have few or one, some have a large handful of consecutive arcs, some have multiple pov characters going through their own unique arcs simultaneously.
The ‘right number’ or arcs is how ever many it takes to guide your characters to the climax while sufficiently amping the tension.
Other things to thing about:
More plot arcs will equal a longer novel.
All plot arcs should have something to do with the main arc.
All plot arcs should allow for character development.
Each plot arc should build on the last plot arc.
Individual plot arcs don’t need to be distinct from each other. (They blur together and overlap. Sometimes smaller plot arcs fit inside larger plot arcs. Sometimes multiple plot arcs run at the same time.)
Hi there c: You know who I am and that I'm a (very) amateur/hobbyist writer. I know how my story will begin and end, though I'm very unsure about what I can do in the middle. All I have is a romantic subplot, and 3 smaller plot points that develop characters and help worldbuild. How many plot points would you recommend in a novel, minus the beginning and end points?
How Many Plot Points Are Enough?
This is a tricky question, because every single book is different, and ever plot point takes a different amount of words to cover. But if you already have your beginning and end, then you’re off to a great start.
My advice would be to turn those smaller, character developing plot points into something larger. Every plot point (and scene) needs to have a direct effect on what comes after it, and on the book’s ending. Which is to say that if you take out anything in your outline, the ending should be changed drastically.
I’m assuming that if you have an ending, you have an antagonist, and if you have an antagonist, you have a Big Bad Thing your protagonist wants to prevent. Every plot point should be a step your protagonist takes in the processes of preventing that Big Bad Thing, in which the antagonist subsequentially makes that Big Bad Thing more Big or more Bad and harder to prevent.
Sometimes the protagonist knows all the steps ahead of time (like in a heist or a quest), though most of the time they only know the next step they’re going to take, which they may believe will be the final step. But you as the writer should know the entire process already.
If you’re struggling with not having enough meat in your book, try taking a couple of these steps, and throwing a wrench into them. How does your protagonist deal with having their plan utterly fail? What happens when you take away all the resources they were counting on? If they sacrifice everything to try to accomplish what they think will prevent the Big Bad Thing, but still fail, what do they do next? How do they recover, to come back harder and stronger the next time?
You don’t want to push your protagonist to their breaking point until the end of the story, just before the climax, but you still want to fracture a few bones along the way. Every time you hit them with something that throws them off their path, they have to find a new and better method of getting to the next step.
That’s all a plot is; your protagonist moves towards a goal, at times a constantly shifting goal, and as they do, they alternate between making progress, and being forced to side track around an ever larger obstacle.
