Write Great Fiction--Plot & Structure (6 page)

She and Toto get back just as the big twister hits. Dorothy gets knocked in the head, and thus enters through the first doorway of no return. The twister picks up the house and lands her and Toto in a Technicolor world called Oz.

The “muddle” of
The Wizard of Oz
is all about Dorothy trying to get to the wizard so she can find a way home. Along the way, she encounters plenty of trouble. There's a wicked witch who wants to stop her, some apple-throwing trees, a lion with more bark than bite, and so on. She picks up three allies along the way, including the aforementioned lion. The trouble increases when the quartet finally gets to see the wizard, and he delivers some bad news: Before he'll help Dorothy, she and her allies have to bring him the broomstick of the wicked witch.

So they set out through a dark forest, and then they fall through the second doorway of no return. Dorothy is captured by the flying monkeys and taken away.

The final battle has been set up. The three allies — the Scarecrow, the Tin Woodsman, and the Cowardly Lion — must find a way to save Dorothy from the witch. They get inside the castle where things go wrong again, and it looks like they're all going to die at the hands of the witch and her minions. But then the witch goes too far, setting the Scarecrow aflame. Dorothy throws water on him, also dousing the witch. And we all know what happens then!

This is not quite the end. There's a little twist with the wizard that gives an added measure of suspense. But Dorothy winds up at home, and all is well.

The three-act structure comes from drama and is used extensively in film. In this formulation, the first “doorway of no return” usually happens about one-fourth of the way into a film (in other words, within the first thirty minutes of a two-hour movie):

In a novel, however, that first doorway needs to happen earlier, or the book will seem to drag. My rule of thumb is the one-fifth mark, though it can happen sooner.

In addition, the final act may take place more toward the end. So while the three-fourths mark is still a good signpost, you can slide it to the right a little if you so desire.

The three-act structure for a novel should look like this:

Mastering structure and transitions will make your novels more accessible even if you choose to deviate from a linear unfolding. Add a ripping good story, and your novels may turn out to be unforgettable.

These basic plot and structure elements will never fail you.

A plot is about a Lead character who has an
objective
, something crucial to his well-being. The major portion of plot is the
confrontation
with the opposition, a series of battles over the
objective
. This is resolved in a
knockout
ending, an outcome that satisfies the story questions and the readers.

A solid plot unfolds in three acts — a beginning, middle, and end.

In the beginning, we get to know the Lead, his world, the tone of the story to come. We have some sort of disturbance in the beginning to keep away the dull parts.

We move into the middle through a doorway of no return, an incident that thrusts the Lead into conflict with the opposition. We need some sort of adhesive to keep them together, something like professional or moral duty, or a physical location. Death — physical, professional or psychological — is often a real possibility until the conflict is settled. Some setback or crisis, or discovery or clue, pushes the Lead through the second doorway of no return.

Now all the elements are there to get to that final battle or final choice that's going to end the story.

Analyze some novels or movies with a view toward understanding their three-act structure. Specifically note:

• When is there a disturbance to the Lead's ordinary routine? What change happens early on? (If it doesn't, does the book or film seem to drag?)
  
• At what point is the Lead thrust into the conflict? At what point can he not return to normal?
  
• When is there a major clue, crisis or setback that makes the climax inevitable?
  
• If you're bored, ask yourself why. Look to see if the LOCK elements or three-act structure is weak.
  

Look at the elements of your current plot. Are they lining up in a way that will help readers get into the story? Or are you ignoring structure? If so, why?

Using the structure diagram, map out your current plot. Come up with a disturbance scene and events that make up the two doorways of no return. Write these down in summary form. Tweak them to make them original and involving.

There is only one type of story in the world — your story.

— Ray Bradbury

In Woody Allen's movie
Annie Hall
, there is a passing conversation between some players at a fancy Hollywood party. One guy says, “Right now it's a notion, but I think I can get money to turn it into a concept … and later turn it into an idea.”

As with all satire, the scent of truth lurks underneath. Before your plot exists, it is a notion you have. A spark, which at some point ignites. But it is here where many stories are doomed from the start. Not every idea is of equal value. To find the best plots, you need to come up with
hundreds
of ideas, then choose the best ones to develop.

That's what this chapter is about.

And before you jump into the top twenty ways to get plot ideas, you need to spend some time on the person who is going to turn them into fiction gold — you.

That's where you start in finding plots.

William Saroyan, whose novels have more passion in them than most, was once asked the name of his next book. “I don't have a name and I don't have a plot,” he replied. “I have the typewriter and I have white paper and I have me and that should add up to a novel.”

That's why Saroyan's work seems so fresh. He was not content with the old advice,
write what you know
. He figured out early that the key to originality was
write who you are
.

Fiction writers, especially those who write to inspire, should follow Saroyan's example. By going deep into your own heart and soul, you will find a wellspring of ideas to write about. Moreover, your writing will come alive, and your stories will have the chance to truly move your readers.

A word of caution, however. To write who you are does
not
mean producing a fictionalized autobiography. All writers have one autobiographical novel inside them, and that's usually a good place to leave it. These days publishers are wary of autobiographical novels because the prospects of turning them into good sellers are practically nil.

The market wants gripping fiction without clichés, standard characters, or tired plots. And the key to satisfying this market, to making your fiction sing with originality, is to write who you are.

All writers should periodically take a good look inside themselves. Before developing your next plot, take some time to answer the following questions. This will create what I call a “personality filter” through which you'll be able to generate original plots full of interesting characters:

• What do you care most about in the world?
  
• If you were to write your own obituary, how would you want it to read?
  
• What is your physical appearance? How do you feel about it? How does it affect you?
  
• What do you fear most?
  
• What are your major strengths of character?
  
• What are your major flaws?
  
• What are you good at? What do you wish you were good at?
  
• If you could do one thing and know that you would be successful, what would you do?
  
• What are three events from your childhood that helped shape you into the person you are today?
  
• What are some of your annoying habits?
  
• What secret in your life do you hope is never revealed?
  
• What is your philosophy of life?
  

Answering these questions opens up a door into your own soul. From that viewpoint, you can better evaluate plot ideas. Does the story you're considering hit a nerve inside you? If not, why write it?

“Know thyself,” the sages admonished, and that's still good advice. Especially for writers. By knowing yourself truly and honestly, by writing with passion and intensity, by caring about important issues, you'll find your writing is not only fresh, but a joy. You'll have
you
. And that's enough to start writing.

Not every idea is worth writing about. Why spend six months, a year — ten years! — hammering out something that editors and agents, not to mention readers, will not care about?

Listen: You haven't got time to waste on mediocre stories.

So what do you do? How do you come up with an idea so good that it
alone
is almost enough to keep readers reading?

In school, I was taught to sit and think and formulate an idea, then set to work.

That's the path to the reaction, “I've seen this before.”

You need to do the opposite.

You need to come up with
hundreds
of ideas, toss out the ones that don't grab you,
and then nurture and develop what's left.

In a moment, I am going to give you twenty ways to come up with hundreds of ideas for your fiction. But first, some rules:

[1]
Schedule a regular idea time. Once a week at least.

[2]
Get yourself into a relaxed state, in a quiet spot where your imagination can run free.

[3]
Give yourself thirty minutes of uninterrupted time.

[4]
Select one or more of the exercises below. Read the instructions.

[5]
Begin by letting your imagination come up with
anything
it wants to, and record
everything
on paper (or the computer).

[6]
The most important rule: Do
not
, I repeat, do
not
censor yourself in any way. Leave your editorial mind out of the loop. Just let the ideas come pouring out in any way, shape, or form they want to. Do not judge anything.

[7]
Have fun. Lots of fun. You're even allowed to laugh.

[8]
Save all your ideas.

[9]
After two or three sessions, it's time to
assess
your ideas.
Use the guidelines in “Nurturing Your Ideas” at the end of this chapter.

[10]
Repeat the process as often as you want.

And always remember:
The journey of a thousand miles requires plenty of snacks.
So feel free to eat while you do these exercises.

Here are twenty fast, simple, and fun ways to develop your own unique plot ideas:

This is perhaps the oldest, and still the best, creative game for the novelist. Originality is nothing more than connecting familiar elements in unfamiliar ways. The what-if game gets our minds thinking in such a way as to make those connections.

The what-if game can be played at any stage of the writing process, but it is especially useful for finding ideas. Train your mind to think in terms of what-if, and it will perform marvelous tricks for you.

For example, when you read something interesting, ask yourself, “What if?” Let all sorts of connections burst forth.

For one week do the following:

• Read the newspaper asking “What if?” while encountering each article.
  
• For every TV show or commercial you watch, ask, “What if?”
  
• Let your mind roam free.
  
• Write down your what-if questions on a master list.
  
• Put the list aside and come back to it a few days later. Take what sounds promising and jot down some more notes about it. Your next story may start here.