Plot

1. Plot is cause and effect: significant events with consequences.

Cause and effect: that's what makes plot.

Defining plot. Plot isn't just anything that happens in a story; it's the sequence of significant events. These are actions, feelings, thoughts, or words by characters that have important consequences and make a meaningful difference to what comes afterward. Incidents without consequences are just static details.

Stakes drive engagement. For readers to care, something valuable must be at stake – something to gain or lose. This creates the story's central conflict or "wrestling match," which can be external (villain, circumstances) or internal (fear vs. need). Showing things mattering intensely to the characters is key.

Scenes are plot in action. Plot is shown through scenes, which are dramatized moments of connected action, dialogue, and description. A scene must advance the plot and demonstrate character, arising for a reason and leading somewhere. Without scenes, you're writing essays or summaries, not fiction.

2. Start in the middle of things, not the beginning.

Don't tell how the protagonist decided to go out and buy fireworks, how much they cost, how he brought them home, how he stored them, what his wife said. Begin when the fuse is lit and the reader sees a bang coming any minute.

Avoid excessive exposition early. Starting at the absolute beginning of events often means lengthy, undramatic explanations (exposition) about how things got that way. Exposition is telling, not showing, and tends to bore readers quickly. It's better to start in medias res – in the middle of the action or conflict.

Show, don't just tell the norm. If showing a pre-existing norm is vital, demonstrate it briefly as something already changing. Dickens shows Scrooge's harshness through quick scenes after mentioning Marley's death, which signals change. Often, you can skip the norm entirely and jump straight into the departure from it.

Start near the first crisis. For short stories, begin just before the main crisis. For novels, start during the first crisis, as you have more space to weave in necessary background later. The goal is to grab the reader's interest with immediate action and conflict.

3. Effective openings do three crucial jobs at once.

Every effective beginning needs to do three things. The chief of these is to get the story going and show what kind of story it's going to be. The second is to introduce and characterize the protagonist. The third is to engage the reader's interest in reading on.

Multitasking is key. A strong opening scene should simultaneously:

• Launch the story and establish its genre/tone.
• Introduce the protagonist and reveal their character through action.
• Hook the reader and make them want to continue.

Use scenes to show, not tell. The most efficient way to achieve this is through a scene where the protagonist is actively doing something that reveals their nature and directly leads into the story's core conflict. Avoid static descriptions or philosophical musings.

Props and settings matter. Choose props and settings that complement or contrast with the action and characters, providing visual shorthand. A character's interaction with an object (like Ralph finding the conch in Lord of the Flies) or their location can economically convey significant information without lengthy explanation.

4. Choose viewpoint carefully to focus reader involvement.

To the degree you're trying to arouse or communicate emotions in your story, you need to involve your reader; and that means doing everything possible to help your reader identify with the main person that story is about.

Single viewpoint for intensity. Limiting the story to one viewpoint character allows readers to deeply identify with that person, sharing their emotions and experiences. This creates intensity and immediacy, making the story more involving. It's the most common approach in short fiction.

Multiple viewpoints for scope. Novels can support multiple viewpoints to:

• Show scenes the protagonist can't access.
• Build suspense by revealing information unknown to the protagonist.
• Develop subplots and secondary characters in depth.
• Provide different perspectives on events.

Switching viewpoints requires care. If using multiple viewpoints, establish the pattern early (scene-by-scene, chapter-by-chapter, or part-by-part). Never switch viewpoint within a scene. Ensure each scene clearly indicates whose perspective the reader is in immediately. Fight to keep the number of viewpoints to the absolute minimum necessary.

5. Handle exposition sparingly and strategically to avoid bogging down.

Put your charts, glossaries, maps, and period newspapers in your sock drawer.

Exposition provides context. While scenes show, exposition tells, providing necessary background information, historical context, or character history. It's less dramatic but essential for perspective, especially when starting in medias res.

Avoid "World-Builders' Disease". Writers can get so caught up in creating elaborate backstories, world details, or research that they dump it all into the narrative, burying the plot. This static information, however fascinating to the author, halts the story's momentum.

Integrate or subordinate exposition.

• Build into scenes: Weave facts into dialogue, action, or character thoughts naturally.
• Place between scenes: Use narrative summary for longer stretches, ensuring it's relevant to what just happened or is about to happen.
• Character explanation: Use dialogue or internal monologue cautiously; avoid characters stating facts they both already know just for the reader's benefit.

Make it matter and move fast. Only include exposition vital to understanding this story, now. Introduce it after curiosity is piqued. Keep it brief, break it up, and immerse it in emotion or conflict whenever possible to make it more digestible. Cut every scrap you can.

6. Middles build toward crisis and introduce subplots.

Well handled, they can deepen the story's context, offer ways to mirror or contrast with the main action, and be used in pacing to offer foreground motion while the main plot is in a temporary lull.

Middles expand the story. After the focused beginning, the middle section broadens out. It can revisit the past (exposition, flashbacks), deepen character understanding, establish norms for contrast, or introduce new characters and situations.

Long-term and short-term plots. In novels, the main plot runs throughout, building towards the final crisis. Middles break this down into intermediate stages, each with its own build-up, crisis, and temporary resolution. One problem's solution often creates the next problem.

Subplots add complexity and depth. Subplots are secondary plotlines that can:

• Center on the protagonist or subordinate characters.
• Mirror or contrast with the main plot's themes or conflicts.
• Provide narrative momentum during lulls in the main plot.
• Converge with the main plot for increased impact.

Braid plotlines together. In long fiction, main plots and subplots are often woven like a braid, alternating focus. Ensure strong connections (characters, settings, themes, events) between plotlines to prevent the story from fragmenting. Subplots, like main plots, need development, crisis, and resolution.

7. Set-pieces are big scenes that escalate conflict and reveal truth.

A set-piece is a big scene the reader can see coming and can look forward to awhile, either in fear or in hope, before it's reached.

High points of the narrative. Set-pieces are major, memorable scenes where conflict culminates in a crisis. They are the story's landmarks, providing intermediate climaxes and partial resolutions on the way to the end. Novels typically have several; short stories may have one or two.

Build anticipation. Effective set-pieces are prepared for. Hint at the approaching event, show tension building, and let the reader anticipate the confrontation. Avoid springing major crises without groundwork, which feels random and lacks suspense.

Deliver on the promise. Don't shy away from writing the big scene. Show the conflict playing out fully and dramatically. Bring out all its facets and polish it. However, avoid over-the-top, unbelievable additions that don't fit the story's established reality.

Consequences must matter. After a set-piece, the story must be changed. The outcome should have significant consequences that affect the characters and drive the plot forward towards the next crisis or the final climax. Each set-piece should arise from the previous one's effects and create new effects.

8. Harness melodrama to create vividness and emotional impact.

If drama releases the electricity implicit in small events, melodrama calls down lightning.

Melodrama is heightened reality. Melodrama focuses on extremes – vivid, unusual, or highly emotional events and characters (grand passions, monsters, sudden death). It speaks directly to emotions and imagination, creating instant involvement without needing much explanation.

Credibility is key. While powerful, melodrama risks seeming clichéd, silly, or unbelievable. To make it work:

• Show it works immediately: Establish the unusual premise (magic, vampires) as a fact of the story's world from the start.
• Anchor in the everyday: Surround the extraordinary with tangible, realistic details.
• Use reasonable characters: Have characters take the premise seriously; avoid the "doubting Thomas."
• Limit major improbabilities: Stick to one central "curse" or premise per story.

Avoid undercutting the impact. Don't play melodrama for laughs if it's meant to be serious, explain it away as a dream, or make fun of it. Don't let the extraordinary become commonplace by overusing it; reserve it for key moments.

Melodrama as compensation. Melodrama can balance other narrative elements that might slow the story (complex prose, heavy exposition). It keeps the reader engaged while deeper themes or subtle details are absorbed. It can make abstract ideas more concrete and impactful.

9. Use patterns, mirrors, and echoes for unity and depth.

Patterns are going to happen. The question is whether you're going to guide them into symmetry and significance, or whether they're going to spring up, sprout branches in eleven-teen contrary directions, and then slump like weeds.

Patterns create coherence. Beyond plot, recurring elements like images, symbols, situations, or character dynamics hold a story together and add layers of meaning. Readers may not consciously notice patterns, but they feel the story's unity and depth.

Mirroring scenes and characters. Repeat elements of earlier scenes (dialogue, imagery, situation stages) in later ones. This highlights change or reinforces themes. Mirror characters share significant traits, allowing comparison and revealing aspects of the protagonist or their world (e.g., Marley and Tiny Tim as mirrors for Scrooge).

The Rule of Three. Repeating a situation or action three times is a powerful technique:

• The first instance establishes the situation/risk.
• The second confirms the pattern or wrong approach.
• The third instance, with a key variable changed, breaks the pattern and leads to resolution or insight.

Patterns for contrast. Mirroring can highlight differences (then/now, before/after) by keeping most elements the same while changing one crucial aspect. This sharpens the focus on what has changed and why it matters.

10. Pacing, transitions, flashbacks, and frames control story rhythm.

A string of scenes, however good, isn't a story. The story as a whole, to be effective, has to develop a rhythm. That's pacing.

Pacing is the story's rhythm. Pacing is determined by the interplay of various elements: scene vs. summary, plot vs. subplot, build-up to crises, introduction of new elements, and the complexity of characters and plot. Some elements speed things up (scenes, action), others slow them down (exposition, summary).

Transitions connect the pieces. Transitions bridge gaps between scenes, viewpoints, or time periods. They can be brief (a sentence) or extensive (summary, a short scene). Choose something to carry over (action, setting, mood, verbal echo) to create flow and avoid jarring shifts.

Flashbacks disrupt the timeline. Flashbacks dramatize past events as scenes. While more vivid than exposition, they break the story's present timeline and can reduce immediacy. Use them strategically, anchor them firmly, and ensure they connect meaningfully to the present plot. Too many can weaken the story.

Frames provide context. Frames (prologues, epilogues, or mirroring opening/closing flashes) stand outside the main story timeline to provide context, mood, or a different perspective. Keep frames brief and focused; they support the picture but aren't the picture itself. Avoid rambling epilogues that lack drama.

11. Endings are either circular (return) or linear (climax).

Endings come in two basic shapes—circular and linear—each with potential strengths and dangers.

Circular endings return home. These stories often follow a journey away and a return. They end quietly, establishing a new norm that is comparable to, but changed from, the beginning. The final crisis occurs before the absolute end, making the return possible. They emphasize growth, change, and the impact of the journey on the original context.

Linear endings drive to climax. These stories build suspense relentlessly towards a single, highest point of conflict. The story ends immediately after this make-or-break confrontation is resolved. They emphasize decisive action and resolution of the central conflict established early on. Most genre fiction uses this shape.

Choose the shape that fits the story. A story about transformation and integration into a community might suit a circular shape. A story about solving a mystery or defeating a villain might suit a linear shape. The chosen shape influences pacing and the placement of the final crisis.

Both shapes require resolution. Regardless of shape, the ending must resolve the story's central conflict. Circular endings show the new state of being; linear endings show the decisive outcome of the final clash.

12. Know when to stop and avoid common ending pitfalls.

The moment the central questions, the focus of the final crisis, are settled—not necessarily explained, but shown to be resolved, so there's no more dramatic tension—that's the moment your story is really over and you should type "THE END."

Endings must be satisfying and definite. A good ending feels fitting (characters earn their outcome) and decisive (the resolution is clear). An ineffective ending can ruin an otherwise good story.

Avoid common ending problems:

• Changing focus: The protagonist must be central to the final crisis and determine the outcome.
• Deus ex machina: Don't introduce an unprepared, improbable solution from outside the story to resolve the plot.
• Trick endings: While sometimes effective, they are risky. They must be carefully prepared for and arise plausibly from the story's established context, not just dropped in for shock value.
• No ending: Stories that just stop without resolving the central conflict feel unfinished and unsatisfying.
• Dithering: Avoid lengthy, unnecessary explanations or epilogues after the main conflict is resolved.

Keep linear endings simple. For linear stories, clear the decks before the final crisis: resolve subplots, remove minor characters, and use familiar or simple settings. Focus solely on the main plot's final confrontation.

Let the story be over. Resist the urge for endless revision or sequel-baiting cliffhangers. A story is done when its central conflict is resolved. Finish it, revise it to be the best it can be now, and share it.

Last updated: May 19, 2025