STRUCTURE OF THE PLOT
Before we can hope successfully to develop the germ-plots we have so
carefully gathered into well-balanced working plots upon which to build
our stories, it is of course essential that we have a working knowledge
of plot-form and structure. A great many writers, especially beginners,
are unable to round out their plots sufficiently to give their stories
the proper balance, simply because they are not familiar with
the technicalities of plot construction, and the author who attempts
to write a story around a poorly formed plot is almost sure to find
himself with an unsalable manuscript on his hands.
There are a great many writers, of course, especially among those
who have “arrived,” who do not find it necessary to commit their
plots to paper, but who work them out in their minds before they
begin their stories, or build them up detail by detail after their
stories are begun. To these writers plot BALANCE and MOVEMENT have
become instinctive, and they find that their words flow easier and
that their imaginations are more active when they begin their stories
with only a half-formed plot in mind or, indeed, with no plot at
all, their theory being, that the creative mental powers are given
fuller play if permitted to invent while the story itself is in the
process of development than if forced to form a fixed plot-plan before
the story has begun to materialize. But in the main these writers
rely upon word-grouping (style) more than upon plot to put their
stories “over,” and even the best of those who adopt this policy
occasionally come to grief, for it is not an easy matter to fashion
a plot and beautifully formed word groups at one and the same time.
Such a plan, if consistently followed, usually proves fatal to the
beginner. A technically-correct plot upon which to build one’s story
is as essential to success as a thorough understanding of the language
of one’s country; and the only way for the novice to make sure his
plots are free from technical flaws is for him to work them out on
paper, according to fixed rules, with the same care that he would use
in solving a knotty mathematical problem. Once the simple rules of
plot construction become fixed in his mind, and he gets the FEEL of
the plot, the writer can begin a story with nothing to build on but
a vague idea and a burning desire with some hope of working out a
well-proportioned plot after the story is well under way, but until he
does master these rules he courts disaster each time he begins a story
unless he has worked out his plot in advance.
We venture to say, without fear of successful contradiction, that no
really great short story was ever written the plot of which was not
clearly outlined in the writer’s mind before he began to write. Most
of those writers who have exposed their methods of writing to public
view have dwelt upon the importance of the plot, and many of them have
explained the mechanical processes they used to build up the plots that
made their stories famous. Poe, the father of the American short story,
worked out the plots for his stories to a mathematical nicety, and even
the framework or background of those of his stories which may be said
to be devoid of plot received as much care and consideration as his
more involved stories. Poe even went so far as to apply this principle
to his poetry, and it may prove of interest to know that “The Raven,”
the most famous of his poems, was, according to his own words, the
result of a process of mechanics and was not, as many people believe,
dashed off in the white heat of inspiration. And so it is, and ever has
been since the birth of the short story proper, with most of the great
writers.
Authors who have the leisure to do so, should therefore make
an exhaustive study of the plot, calling to their aid several
authoritative text books in order to get the teacher’s point of view,
and analyzing the stories they read in the current magazines so they
can get a line on the plot as it is handled by successful writers, and
at the same time become acquainted with the editorial preferences of
the different periodicals. The system of plot building outlined in the
following pages is aimed more particularly at the writer who has little
time for reading and study, who writes only when he can snatch a few
minutes from other labors that absorb most of his time, and who has to
take his instruction in story-writing in concentrated form. The very
simplicity of this system should recommend it to this class of writers
especially. The system is well past the experimental stage, having been
used by a number of writers with unvarying success since it was first
originated by the present writer some years ago, and as it is based on
the accepted principles of plot construction and offers a quick and
never-failing plan for applying those principles to a practical end,
we believe it will prove an inspiration to those writers, beginner
as well as “old timer,” who will give it careful study and a thorough
try-out.
Before taking up the actual development of plots it is, as we remarked
above, necessary for us to familiarize ourselves with the different
parts of the plot, so we can build the foundations for our stories on
firm ground, else, like the man who built his house on a sand bank, we
may find the situation slipping away from us.
Let us therefore consider the following brief:
OUTLINE FOR PLOT DEVELOPMENT
General Scheme
BALANCE:
Keynote.
Crucial situation.
Complications.
Deliberation.
Solution.
MOVEMENT:
1. DIRECT.
Action moves tersely forward with incidents acting as index to
crucial situation.
2. INDIRECT.
Introducing secondary complications, crises, etc., before the
climax. Reflex of complications.
Development
OPENING:
1. INACTION (objective).
(a) Introduction.
(b) Purely descriptive.
2. ACTION.
(a) Revealing inciting motive.
(b) Theme.
(c) Characters.
(d) Setting.
(e) Combinations of the above.
3. INDIRECT ACTION (anticipatory).
(a) Suggesting inciting motive.
(b) Revealing theme.
(c) Characters.
(d) Setting.
(e) Combinations of the above.
BODY:
1. Incident of plot development.
2. First moment of suspense.
3. Cause of crisis.
4. Crisis.
5. Second moment of suspense.
6. Crucial situation.
7. Cause of climax.
8. Climax.
CLOSING:
1. Direct denouement and conclusion.
2. Interpretation, if any.
3. Aftermath, if any.
It will be seen that the plot is divided into three main divisions--the
opening, the body, and the closing. That the foregoing outline might be
complete we have given the several different openings, that of INACTION
included, though this at its best is but a poor opening and is seldom
used. The crisp, well-formed plot should open either by suggesting or
by revealing the inciting motive of the story. Or we may go a step
farther and begin the plot with the first incident of plot development
(a psychological moment, we might say), which, it will be observed,
falls within the second of the three divisions. Indeed, this latter
opening is usually considered the best of the three openings we have
mentioned, because in these hurried days we do not begin a story, we
start off in the middle of it, and not infrequently commence where the
antiquated TALE used to end. The modern reader likes to plunge directly
into the action of a story, and editors, knowing this, do not as a rule
look kindly upon a story with a leisurely opening.
The body, of course, is the most important part of the plot, as it
serves as a frame to hold the loose threads of our idea together. The
body of a model plot should be clean-cut and well-defined. Padding with
unnecessary complications tends to make a plot bulky and flat unless
skillfully handled. In the snappy plot, following the first incident
of plot development, the writer should work smoothly, unswervingly
and logically through the first moment of suspense, the cause of
crisis, the crisis, and then, through the second moment of suspense,
the crucial situation, and the cause of the climax, swing tersely to
a climax (unless there are to be complications). Hold to the main
thread of the story-idea when possible and do not leave loose strands
scattered about to lead the reader astray. When complications seem
desirable or necessary, try to equalize them so the body of the plot
will not lose its proper proportion.
The closing of the plot is usually restricted to the direct denouement
and conclusion, for it is always best to drop to a swift end when we
have sprung our climax. Never leave the plot-problem unsolved. Readers
do not like to wade through a long story and then be left in doubt as
to what the writer was driving at. “The Lady, or the Tiger?” type of
story went out of fashion years ago, and trick stories that leave
the reader guessing are tabooed by editors. End a plot decisively, in
such a way that explanations are unnecessary after the climax has been
reached. Interpretation of a plot, which really belongs to the short
story proper and has little to do with plot building, is always awkward
and therefore to be avoided when practicable.
It should be borne in mind that each part of a plot has a direct
bearing on the other parts and plays an important part in giving a
plot BALANCE and PROPORTION. The building of a plot in some respects
is not dissimilar to the solving of a jig-saw puzzle; each separate
piece has its place and the different parts have to be fitted together
with the greatest exactitude in order to obtain a complete and
perfect whole. The beginner, therefore, would do well to make himself
thoroughly familiar with the simple plot before experimenting with
its more involved relation. Nor should this work any hardship on the
writer, for the simple plot offers as many possibilities for literary
accomplishment as the plot abounding with complications. Practically
all of the short story classics have simple plots. Take, for instance,
the stories of the three masters: de Maupassant, Poe, and O. Henry.
With few exceptions these stories are written around the most simple
plots, and who is there to say that this fact detracts from the
absorbing interest of these masterpieces?
The complicated plot is not only more difficult to build than the
simple plot but the inexperienced writer usually finds it a very unruly
creature when he begins the process of elaborating it into a story. The
introduction of many complications in a plot diverts the writer from
his main course, and instead of driving steadily forward to his climax
he is side-tracked from time to time and finds himself floundering in
a maze of loosely-connected ideas having only an indirect bearing on
the plot, all of which, nevertheless, have to be drawn together into a
cohesive and supple whole.
There is always a tendency on the part of the beginner to unduly stress
certain parts of even the most simple plot, and this, if carried to
the extreme, is sure to play havoc with not only the balance but the
movement of the story, for a story cannot move forward smoothly and
confidently like a well oiled engine (as a story should move forward)
if the plot is not well proportioned. This tendency to make a plot
top-heavy or lopsided is, of course, chiefly due to the fact that the
novice, having no approved rules to guide him, is forced to grope ahead
blindly; but even the writer who has a knowledge of plot anatomy,
and who should therefore know better, occasionally makes the blunder
of taking liberties with proportion, with the result that he creates
not technically correct plots but monstrosities. Above all things
the novice should cultivate a sense of proportion, and adhere to the
established rules of plot building, for it is the relative size and
arrangement of the different parts that give a plot unity and sustained
interest, and in these two elements is found the essence of successful
plot making.
Strive, too, for strength. By STRENGTH we mean not only a consistent
and well made plot, but one fashioned out of a red-blooded idea. The
writer cannot hope to build strong plots from ideas that lack vitality.
Flimsy and transparent ideas afford the writer small opportunity
to work up suspense during the story, and catch the reader off his
guard with a smashing climax. A plot that fails to rouse the reader’s
interest at the very beginning and then make his interest grow up to
the very end, falls far short of its purpose and the reader who starts
a story based on such a plot is apt to throw it down in disgust, the
best part of it unread. The reader wants to be interested and he likes
to be surprised. He enjoys matching his wits with the writer’s and if
he is not out-witted his contempt for the poor author is profound. You
can never bore a reader with a story full of surprise twists, but you
can disappoint him and even cause him pain if your plot does not lead
to an unexpected climax.
And do not forget originality! By originality we do not necessarily
mean that the writer should try to unearth ideas that have never been
used for plots before. Considering the fact that there are said to
be only thirty-six dramatic situations, and that virtually all short
stories owe their lives either directly or indirectly to one or more
of these situations, this would be found a very difficult thing to do
indeed. But he should try to twist the old ideas around into unique
forms and make combinations of single ideas new to readers. There is
never a dearth of story-ideas for the writer who is himself a reader
(and is there any writer who is not?). But these ideas have to be
refined and recast in new molds, and it is a wise author who gives due
thought and care to the process. A story with a trite or over-worked
plot stands little chance of finding a permanent home between the
covers of a magazine, unless its fond parent is something of a genius
at juggling with the king’s English, and even a beautiful style of
writing will not often “land” a story with a weak plot. Writers whose
names are household words not infrequently have their stories rejected
because of faulty plots, for these days editors demand something
more than reputation. The magazines are always on the outlook for
stories with strong, original plots, and it is the chief aim in the
down-trodden author’s life to give them what they want. Strive always
to create, therefore: never imitate.
THE OUTLINE FOR PLOT DEVELOPMENT contains the whole theory of plot
construction, and a grasp on the principles found therein is necessary
to an intelligent understanding of the system of plot development we
are to elucidate in the next chapter. We have not deemed it necessary
to take up each part of the plot and dwell upon it at length, believing
that the writer would be more benefited by seeing the Outline in actual
use than by having it fed to him in the abstract. “A pound of fact
is worth a ton of theory,” some latter-day Socrates has said; and,
as Mazie, our waiter, once remarked, he said a forkful. Besides, the
Outline speaks in a very large measure for itself, and the writer who
will take the trouble to fix its salient points in his mind will find a
new interest and pleasure in the building of plots.
For “placing” the germ-plot, or, more properly speaking, for
identifying the most suitable field for a story-idea’s growth and
expansion, observe the condensed outline of a chart that follows, from
which the writer may gain an idea for the preparation of a completer
one for his own use:
CHART FOR PLOT CONSTRUCTION
ACTION:
Detective, mystery, problem, fantastic, emotional, war, adventure,
business, etc.
TIME:
Present, past or future--perhaps with specific period, as during a
Peace celebration.
SETTING:
City, country, town, island, the sea, with specific locality.
CHARACTERS:
Number: One girl and one man, etc. Occupations: Plumber, cowboy,
actress, etc. Other limiting details. The characters depend, of
course, a good deal on the Action, Time, Setting, Atmosphere and
Mood.
ATMOSPHERE:
Humorous, joyful, sad, gruesome, religious, etc.
MOOD:
Good, evil, love, hate, fright, revenge, etc.
The more elaborately this chart is carried out the better. It has
nothing to do with the actual structure of the plot, of course, but it
plays an important part in our system of plot development, and even
the casual writer will find it of inestimable value when developing
plot-germs, and may often glean an original idea from the chart itself
which will start a train of thought thundering along in the right
direction.