How to Tell Subplots From Plot Bunnies

Date: March 30, 2013

Author: Janalyn Voigt

As a child, did you blow bubbles? If so, you already understand something about subplots.

What does blowing bubbles have to do with subplots, you ask? Simply this: When you blew too hard, you burst the bubbles as they formed. Blowing too lightly, while it showed you there were bubbles to be made, didn’t produce them. Only by exerting the right amount of force could you blow bubbles.

Subplots are a lot like bubbles. If you try too hard to produce them, they evaporate. However, they won’t necessarily form without your help.

What’s a Subplot?

It’s easy to become confused when thinking about subplots, so let’s start with a definition. A subplot is a secondary plot that compliments your main plot. Adding subplots to your novel will give it layers of substance and effectively underline your theme. Layering with subplots adds texture to your story’s weave. Good subplots form and grow as you write. Most show up early but can also make their appearance partway through a story. Watch for them as you introduce new characters or new situations. They can show up as a romantic interest, a character from the past, an obstacle to be overcome, or a past experience which is revealed over the course of the book, to name a few occurrences.

Most people would agree that the novel, Gone with the Wind, tells the epic romance of Scarlett O’Hara and Rhett Butler. Scarlett’s relationship with Melanie Wilkes, her father’s fate, and her relationship with her sister, Sue Ellen, are all subplots. Each forms its own story within a story, and yet each contributes to the greater story by shaping our opinions about Scarlett. None of these subplots is forced. Each arises naturally from the main plot and helps develop the theme.

What’s a Bunny Trail?

It’s sometimes hard to detect bunny trails. They can sneak into your story as a romantic interest, a character from the past, or an obstacle to be overcome. Like Pegasus and his brother, Chrysaor, they can spring fully-grown out of your backstory. Subplots should never lead the reader away from your theme and should, in fact, support your primary plot. A subplot happens because of (rather than instead of) the main story. Anything else is a distraction. It’s true that all sorts of unrelated events tangle together in real life, but good fiction doesn’t suffer from such snarls and is carefully constructed to represent, rather than emulate, real life. Understanding this difference is crucial.

Adding Subplots to Your Novel

As you develop your novel, give some thought to what else could happen to reinforce your theme. Be open to insights that come as you write. Even those of us who plot our novels sometimes benefit from the introduction of an unexpected subplot. While writing WayFarer, the second novel in my Tales of Faeraven epic fantasy series, the story took a turn into the Vale of Shadows, a place I hadn’t know existed. Its inclusion in the novel was exactly right. I’m so glad I allowed the novel’s hero to take me there.

One of the best ways to add subplots to the main story line is to introduce new scenes from the point of view of the characters involved in them. This is a great way to introduce secondary characters, by the way. Remember never to change viewpoints within a scene. Provide either a scene or chapter break whenever you change the point of view. Using other characters’ viewpoints to tell subplots means you can introduce information to which your main character is not privy. Just remember as you weave your story lines to connect them at the end of the book. Don’t leave threads hanging.

Action Step

As you write your novel, keep an eye out for subplots that would deepen your main story. If you’re a plotter, brainstorm to discover these in advance, but be open to discovery as you write.

Can you name some plot bunnies that have led you down a rabbit trail?

Plotting a Novel in Three Acts: Opening Scene

Date: November 16, 2012

Author: Janalyn Voigt

Categories: Write Well

The lights go out. A hush breathes through the audience. The curtain rises. There is never a moment so pregnant with anticipation as the opening scene of a play. The audience, primed and ready, wants to believe and if given the opportunity willingly immerses itself for the story’s duration. Only if the performance falters will the audience boo, hiss, and may well leave the theater.

A wise writer understands that a novel is no different with respect to its opening scene. The reader is already pulling for the story. However, if the execution fails to muster up to expectations the reader may lose interest, disengage, and abandon the story.

Your opening scene has to work hard. I’ll illustrate with the first scene of Gone With The Wind by Margaret Mitchell. I recommend that you read it and/or watch it online, and then go on with this post.

What Your Opening Scene Must Accomplish

Introduce your main character. Since we experience books vicariously, your readers want to identify right away with the main character of your story, so it’s best to begin by introducing that person. Scarlett’s introduction in Gone With The Wind makes it clear that as a beautiful girl, she is pampered, privileged, and willful.
Reveal the main theme. Clue your readers into what the story will be about early on. This helps them prepare to tackle your theme as they read. If you hint at one type of story but partway through turn it into another, for your reader it can be as disconcerting as getting ready to take a bite of pumpkin pie and tasting a dill pickle instead. Gone With The Wind establishes its theme of surviving loss with Scarlett’s reaction to Ashley’s engagement to Melanie. In many ways, Ashley Wilkes is allegorical for the Old South. Scarlett longs for him, but he is lost to her forever. It is Rhett Butler, symbolizing survival in a brave new world, that Scarlett really needs.
Initiate the story problem. What does your main character want more than anything and what is it that interferes with attaining that desire? This is the problem that must be resolved by your main character. The story problem in Gone With The Wind becomes apparent from Scarlett’s reaction when the Tarleton twins tell her that Ashley Wilkes is engaged to his cousin, Melanie. The driving question for the reader is how will Scarlett find happiness when the man of her dreams rejects her love?
Set the tone of your story. Extract the mood of your story from its main theme and bring your readers in with sensory details. The movie version of Gone With The Wind opens with captions that effectively establish a mood of deep reflection over a world lost forever, reflecting its piercing main theme.
Initiate conflict. Set the stakes so your readers will continue to care what happens. In the opening scene of Gone With The Wind the reader learns that Scarlett is about to lose the man she loves. The Tarleton twin’s announcement of impending war sets the stage for conflicts to come.
Establish your setting. You probably won’t give your setting a heavy emphasis at first, but it must be present in every scene. Unless you provide glimpses into its setting the reader will feel ungrounded. The opening scene of Gone With The Wind gives glimpses of its setting in details like Scarlett’s flowered-muslin dress with its billowing skirts and seventeen-inch waist, of quarreling possum hounds, and of the clink of silver being laid for supper by darkies.
Engage the emotions. Drawing your readers in emotionally helps them connect with your main character. Be sure to have your main character react with story events on an emotional level. In Gone With The Wind we are first amused by Scarlett’s simpering, spoiled ways. This draws us in, and when she receives the bad news about Ashley, we grieve also.
Connect with a universal experience. One of the reasons readers read is to make sense of their world. They want to identify themselves in a story so that they can become changed, like the main character, for the better. A great way to engage readers is to evoke an experience common to man. Most people understand the pain of romantic loss, which is why the opening conflict in Gone With The Wind effectively hooks the reader.
Raise questions. Intrigue and engage your reader using one of the most powerful tools in existence: the desire to know what happens next. Now that she knows the news about Ashley, what will Scarlett do at the barbeque? Will she lose the man she loves? Will he cause a scandal by choosing Scarlett instead of the woman he’s engaged to marry? All of these questions lure readers further into the story.

A well-written opening scene is one of the keys to retaining readers .

Plotting a Novel in Three Acts: First Plot Point

Date: October 12, 2012

Author: Janalyn Voigt

Categories: Write Well

Writing a novel requires a writer to keep the story fresh and moving toward its climax and resolution. That’s a challenging proposition, so it helps to have at least a rough plan. This post covers the first plot point, which I like to call “engagement.” (If you missed my prior posts on plotting, start there: Plotting a Novel with a Theme and Story Problem, Plotting a Novel by the Numbers, Plotting a Novel in Three Acts, Plotting a Novel: Scarlet O’Hara and the Inciting Incident. )

What is the First Plot Point?

A plot point is a turning point that causes a story to change course while it raises the stakes and propels the action. Every story is made up of a series of minor and major events that turn the action, so the First Plot Point actually isn’t really the first that occurs in the story. It is actually the second key scene of the plotting method based on Aristotle’s Incline.

How Do the Inciting Incident and First Plot Point Differ?

The inciting incident disrupts the main character’s reality so radically that life will never be the same. This scene introduces the main story problem and creates the need for change. The first plot point is the point of no return when the main character actively engages the change that has occurred and sets out to solve the story problem.

The inciting incident in Gone With The Wind, as an example, has Ashley Wilkes telling Scarlett O’Hara he plans to marry Melanie while Rhett Butler unwittingly eavesdrops. This effectively introduces the story problem: how will Scarlett find love and happiness? The first plot point takes place when Scarlett marries Charles Hamilton. By doing this, she engages the change brought about by Ashley’s intent to marry Melanie and tries to solve the story problem but only makes matters worse. For Scarlett, there is now no going back to the life she knew before. The reader turns pages, deeply concerned and wanting to know what happens next.

Where Does The First Plot Point Fit in the Plot Structure?

The first plot point occurs at around the 25% mark in a story. It closes the story’s first act, while the main character’s reaction to it raises the curtain on the second act.

Characteristics of the First Plot Point

Frustrated Desire: Fulfillment of the main character’s greatest desire is threatened and seems impossible.

Life-Changing Event: The main character can’t return to his or her normal life and so is forced to act on the change brought about by the inciting incident.

A New Reality: The first plot point brings about drastic change and often causes the setting to change as well.

Can you name the inciting incident and first plot point in another book or your work-in-progress?

Plotting a Novel By the Numbers

Date: May 25, 2012

Author: Janalyn Voigt

Categories: Writing Resources

Show, don’t tell. Watch your participial phrases. Don’t head hop. Whatever you do, stay within manuscript length recommendations. For a writer scrambling to keep up with all the dos and don’ts, the writing profession can seem full of arbitrary rules. And when someone breaks said rules and goes on to win awards, it’s tempting to follow suit. One standard you shouldn’t buck, however, is a publishing house’s word-length requirements.
Why? Shouldn’t you let your story tell itself without regard for its length?

If you will be the one footing the bill, you’re free to make your manuscript whatever length you prefer. But if you hope a publisher will pay to produce your book, it’s important to understand that additional pages cost extra money, and not just in terms of paper and ink. It takes several editors (who are on the payroll) to review and guide you in polishing a manuscript. Proofreaders don’t work for free either. If your last name is Tolstoy or Michener you might get away with submitting a beefy manuscript. The rest of us need to keep the bottom line in mind.

Book stores base the number of copies of a particular title to order on standard widths. If a publisher fails to adhere to these widths, it throws off a bookstore’s shelving efforts. Besides this, writing your novel shorter or longer than genre readers expect can negatively influence their buying decisions.

Aren’t these considerations crass? What about your inner artist?

Your inner artist will recover, and you’ll even grow as a writer from keeping to practical guidelines.

But how on earth can you tell how long a novel will be until you’ve written it?

You can’t know entirely, but I’ve developed a method that helps me write to a specific length. Even if you’re a seat-of-the-pants writer and allergic to plotting, my technique may help you. Here’s a screen shot of one of my working calendars. CS stands for my current novel, and the number represents the scene I’ll write that day. (I number them in my plot outline.) I find it helps to include upcoming deadlines and events as well. The DS represents DawnSinger, the first novel in my epic fantasy series, Tales of Faeraven. The Renewal mentioned was a conference I attended.

1. Estimate your desired word count. If you don’t know what that might be, read publishers’ submission guidelines at their sites. As a starting point, here’s an agent-maintained list of word count guidelines. Find the happy middle ground in a given range. That way you can guard against running too-short or too-long.

EXAMPLE: A publisher gives the range of 80,000-100,000 words for a historical romance. The middle ground to aim for is 90,000 words.

2. If you already know the average number of words you write per scene, use that figure. If you don’t know this number, write the first 50 pages of your book, then estimate the average number of words per scene. You can also base your figures on 1,500 words per scene, but eventually, you’ll want to check your own average against this figure and make adjustments as needed. It’s okay to round your numbers.

EXAMPLE: Approximately 12,500 / about 8 scenes = 1,500 words per scene

3. Divide your average words per scene into your desired total word count. The answer is the number of scenes to brainstorm.

EXAMPLE: 90,000 / 1,500 = 60 SCENES

4. Develop your plot to include the number of scenes you should write for your desired total word count. Write just a few sentences to describe each scene. This keeps you from bogging down while plotting and gives you a flexible guideline you can easily adjust as you write.

What’s next?

Plotting a Novel in Three Acts

7 Steps for Writing a Novel in Scenes

Plotting a Novel With A Central Theme and Story Problem

Plotting a Novel in Three Acts

Date: May 11, 2012

Author: Janalyn Voigt

Categories: Write Well

I’ve trodden the boards most of my life. No, I’m not talking about walking the plank, although it sometimes can feel that way during the infamous period known by theater people as hell week. That’s when troublesome musical passages, elusive lines, and final costume fittings collide with an overloaded slate of rehearsals. When it comes to stress, an author on deadline has nothing on a thespian in the last week before an opening. Blessedly, the night before the first curtain rises the set is left dark, abandoned by tradition. This allows the cast and crew an opportunity to catch a collective breath before the new crisis that is opening night.

Ah, theater! Greasepaint in the blood. Settings. Characters. Dialogue. Beats. Three acts to bring a story alive for an audience.

Sound familiar?

It should. Today’s prevalent three-act plotting structure, based on Greek tragedies, comes to us from the mind of Aristotle. Yes, that Aristotle. The thinker who lived over 300 centuries before Christ took on flesh. Although many methods of telling a story have arisen since Aristotle organized the first known written plot structure, his model remains viable today. Blame it on my theater background, but of all plotting methods, Aristotle’s speaks to me most.

He plotted in three acts. This makes sense on an intuitive level because every story comes in three parts with a beginning, middle, and ending. Act One makes up 25% of a storyline, with Act Two taking up 50% and Act Three the final 25%. The story is divided in half as well, with the midpoint squarely in the middle of Act Two. The first half of a story involves introducing characters, themes, motivations, settings, conflicts, and important elements. In the second half of a story all its threads untangle. In fact, the term denouement is drawn from desnouer, a Middle French word which means “to untangle.”

Aristotle’s Incline names six key scenes. I’ll define these and provide examples from a fairy tale you may know, Cinderella:

1. Opening: Hook your readers at once by raising an intriguing question they’ll want answered. Give at least a glimpse of what normal life is like for your main character. This scene may include the inciting incident. Modern tastes often prefer the inciting incident closer to or as part of the opening scene, but depending on story needs and genre dictates, it can occur later in Act One, even immediately preceding the first plot point.
EXAMPLE: In Cinderella, the King decides to have a ball in order to find a wife for his son and heir.

2. First Plot Point: Springboards off the inciting incident. The main character becomes engaged by the change brought about by the inciting incident. This Y in the road forces your main character to react with an irrevocable decision and brings down the curtain on Act One.
EXAMPLE: Cinderella’s Fairy Godmother turns her rags to a beautiful gown, turns a pumpkin into a coach, and tells her to be home by midnight.

3. Midpoint or Reversal: In this powerful centerpiece scene your main character decides to stop simply reacting and start acting. The character is now fully engaged in the story.
Example: Cinderella is at the ball dancing with the prince and forgets all about being home by midnight.

4. Second Plot Point: This scene brings the curtain down on Act Two and sets up the conflict that launches the story’s climax.
EXAMPLE: The clock strikes midnight and Cinderella flees the ball, losing a slipper in the process.

5. Climax: Your main character experiences a black moment which leads to an epiphany, or personal revelation and a moment of release. The epiphany transforms your main character in a way that enables him to overcome a previously unconquerable obstacle and obtain either his desired or needed outcome which proves the story’s theme.
EXAMPLE: Cinderella believes she has lost the prince forever (black moment). When the footman comes around with the glass slipper, she has a personal epiphany (moment of enlightenment) and realizes that she is the only one who will fit her slipper. She is worthy. She challenges her stepmother’s abuse by asking to try the slipper on.

6. Closing: This scene resolves any remaining plot threads and allows the reader to savor the main character’s victory.
EXAMPLE: Cinderella marries her handsome prince and lives happily ever after.

Connecting Scenes

How do you fill the gaps between your story’s key scenes? By a process I like to call Reaction-Response-Consequence Cycles. Your main character reacts to the inciting incident and sets off a chain of events that climbs with increasing tension to the climax.

Reaction: Your main character reacts to the antagonistic force by making an irrevocable decision, often based on a lie he or she believes to be true.

Response : The antagonistic force in your story responds to your main character’s decision.

Consequence: Fulfillment of your main character’s greatest desire is derailed and the story moves toward a confrontation with her greatest fear. As she reacts to this new obstacle, the cycle begins again.

Actors in a theater production become comfortable with the story and one another during the first read-through. When they first go off the script, their lines may seem stilted and their movements confused. But soon they own their lines, delivering them with the ease of familiarity, and command the stage with grace. Like performing in a theater production, it takes practice, patience and talent to plot in three acts. But once you’ve mastered this technique, your delighted readers may just call for an encore.