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While the protagonist accepted this mission, they avoid their misbelief

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A truth has been learned but the mistaken belief has yet to be confronted at the climax

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Summary:

Conflict:

Change:

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After the first plot point, there can be no turning back.

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A character is in a zone of comfort

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At some point, the hero, or someone speaking for the hero, must resist the call to adventure.

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I Can:

Continue to develop my character with Step 3 in The Hero's Journey.

Think through my character's "Refusal of the Call".

Illustrate my ideas in creative comic/illustration format.

REFUSAL OF THE CALL

A Hero Refuses the Journey because of fears and insecurities that have surfaced from the Call to Adventure. The Hero is not willing to make changes, preferring the safe haven of the Ordinary World. Second thoughts or even deep personal doubts as to whether or not he/she is up to the challenge ahead.

The Refusal of the Call becomes an essential Stage that communicates the risks involved in the Journey that lies ahead. Without risks and danger or the likelihood of failure, the audience will not be compelled to be a part of the Hero's Journey.

Although an eager or Willing Hero may skip the Refusal Stage, the Hero's friends and allies will explain the fears and risks.

In Horror and Thriller, the frightening and forbidding nature of the "Special World" can lead the Hero to be repeatedly "called" to the Adventure that he continues to refuse. Each Call and Refusal must escalate the stakes, until the Hero has no choice but to accept the Call.

Can you think of examples?

Your Assignment:

You have your character, you know their ordinary world, you know their call to adventure. Your assignment now is to think through why your character would refuse that call to adventure.

What are the fears that would stop them from their purpose?

What risks are involved?

Why are they denying the chance to move forward?

Create at least 4 panels/illustrations that depict this part of your character's story.

Think about layout and movement in the panels...

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Continue to develop my character with Step 3 in The Hero's Journey. Think through my character's "Refusal of the Call". Illustrate my ideas in creative comic/illustration format. A Hero Refuses the Journey because of fears and insecurities that have surfaced from the Call to Adventure.

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Fantasy? Model one of your societies after a real-world example and do some research. Do any sort of fun poking around the internet and build some links to help you stew.

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Lecture #5: Worldbuilding Part One — Brandon Sanderson on Writing Science Fiction and Fantasy

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Your main character's arc only now. In revisions we can punch up the other characters' arcs. Think about how the archetype's change reflects the theme you've selected.

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The most powerful stories and characters carry an ineffably dependable quality which we refer to as "archetypal." And yet the whole idea of specifically "archetypal character arcs" can remain pretty foggy to writers. Archetypes can seem either way too limiting (i.e., the Hero's Journey and only the Hero's Journey), or they can seem way too varied to present themselves as a cohesive system.

The How to Write Archetypal Character Arcs series teaches a specific system of archetypal character arcs (in which the Hero's Journey is the second of six main positive arcs). It takes a deep dive into the "life cycle" of archetypal character arcs, featuring twenty-four primary archetypes. This cycle is grounded upon six Positive-Change Arcs. It also explores two possible Negative or "shadow" archetypes for each of the main archetypes, as well as the "resting" or Flat-Arc archetypes that emerge between each of the six Positive archetypes.

In this series, you'll also learn:

How to tell which archetypes are right for your story?

What's the best way to use archetypal character arcs in a series?

How can you choose the right archetypes for supporting characters?

How can archetypes help you find your story's theme-and vice versa?

Viewing fiction through the lens of archetypal character arcs can help you write powerful and pertinent stories. Archetypal stories are important, not just as a tool for writers but as a foundational part of a healthy culture. Let's dive in!

Table of Contents

Introduction to Archetypal Character Arcs

It is not too simplistic or idealistic a statement to say that storytelling-and therefore story theory-is a quest for meaning.

Why are archetypal stories so important and what does this mean for you as a writer attempting to channel these deep patterns of existence?

The 6 Positive Archetypal Character Arcs

For a writer, one of the most exciting explorations of archetype can be found within specific archetypal character arcs-or journeys.

As the "youngest" of the archetypal character arcs, the Maiden Arc represents the quintessential coming-of-age story.

The Hero Arc is the story of the conquering champion-the ingenuous but perhaps immodest youth setting out to do a great deed.

The majestic Queen Arc builds upon the lessons learned in the Hero's Journey to create an archetypal character arc that offers a worthy sequel.

Although the plot in a King Arc can be absolutely epic, it is a fundamentally spiritual arc-more so than any that have preceded it.

The Crone Arc begins the final act of the "life arcs" by presenting an inevitable and imperative Underworld Journey.

The powerful and mysterious Mage Arc-the final archetypal character arc-turns its attention to questions of power and surrender.

The 12 Negative or Shadow Archetypes

Each positive character archetype inherently represents a struggle with related shadow archetypes-one passive and one aggressive.

Out of fear and egoism, the Maiden's shadow archetypes would prevent her from embracing a new perspective and completing her journey.

The Hero's shadow archetypes of Coward and Bully are especially important (and cautionary) due to the pervasiveness of the Hero's Journey.

The Queen's shadows have the potential to block her possibility for a positively transformative archetypal character arc.

Whether this powerful character brings life to the Kingdom depends on if he is in the grip of the King's shadow archetypes of Puppet and Tyrant.

If the character cannot powerfully transition into the final act of life, the risk is that of sliding into the Crone's shadow archetypes.

Will the character triumph-or succumb in the end to the powerful temptations of either of the Mage's shadow archetypes, the Miser or the Sorcerer?

The 6 Flat or Resting Archetypes

Flat archetypes are often seen teaching other characters some of the same lessons they just learned in their own previously completed arcs.

The archetype of the Child is necessarily an archetype of deep vulnerability and surprisingly powerful impact upon other characters.

A deeply nuanced archetype that evolves with us for most of our lives, the Flat archetype of the Lover is inherent and integral.

We don't often think of the Flat archetype of the Parent with the same enthusiasm as we do the Hero. And yet they are intrinsically linked.

The Flat archetype of the Ruler represents the potential period in a person's life in which he or she is in a position of leadership.

The Flat archetype of the Elder provides crucial guidance for enacting important change in surrounding characters.

The final Flat archetype of the Mentor is one of the most significant within human storytelling.

The 12 Archetypal Antagonists

A look at the archetypal antagonists inherent within each of the six main archetypal "life arcs."

The antagonists for the Maiden Arc can be seen archetypally as both her Authority Figures and a frightening Predator.

The antagonists for the Hero Arc can be seen archetypally as both the Dragon and the Sick King.

Usually the archetypal antagonists for a Queen Arc are represented by the Invader in the outer conflict and the Empty Throne in the inner conflict.

The archetypal antagonists for the King Arc are the Cataclysm and the Rebel, both of which challenge the King to culminate his rule.

The archetypal antagonists for the Crone Arc are represented as a Death Blight and as the subtle Tempter who would lure her from the Truth.

The archetypal antagonists for the Mage Arc often manifest subtly-not in obvious "evil," but in an ordinary person's weakness.

Putting the Archetypes Into Practice

How can you apply archetypal character arcs in a practical way to your own stories? Here are five considerations for choosing archetypes.

This post is an easy reference that lists comparisons of the archetypal Positive-Change Arcs, so you can see them all in one place.

Learn how archetypes and story structure mirror each other in any individual book and can be used to further strengthen your story.

For more on writing great characters, click here for a full list of all my posts on the subject or join my mailing list to download my free e-book Crafting Unforgettable Characters.

Featuring some of my favorite tips on character crafting, this e-book offers a good starting place for understanding the basics of character building, as well as tips for troubleshooting. You'll discover inspiring quotes from successful authors, writing prompts, and creativity exercises. This information will give you the tools you need to tackle your latest batch of characters.

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The most powerful stories and characters carry an ineffably dependable quality which we refer to as "archetypal." And yet the whole idea of specifically "archetypal character arcs" can remain pretty foggy to writers. Archetypes can seem either way too limiting (i.e., the Hero's Journey and only the Hero's Journey), or they can seem way too varied to present themselves as a cohesive system.

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Just a loose guide here, folks. We're building momentum and letting the "boys downstairs" (Stephen King) simmer up some plot ideas. Think of this as bolting on another railing you can walk beside, jump over or knock down.

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See the 15 story beats of popular movies and novels based on writer Blake Snyder’s Save the Cat! screenwriting books.

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Of all the paired structural beats in a story, the Pinch Points are perhaps the most obvious. There are only two of them, they have the same name, and they perform essentially the same function in both their first and second iteration. They're also perhaps the least known and most confusing of all the major turning points in classic story structure.

Today, we're continuing our series about "chiastic" structure-which refers to the idea of the second half of a story mirroring the first. Although this effect can be created in more obvious and deliberate ways, it is always present within the actual structure of a story. In the first post, I talked about how it's sometimes more helpful to think of story structure not as an arc but as a circle, in which one half mirrors the other with the ending circling back upon the beginning.

I started this series because I was asked to elaborate on the link between the Inciting Event and the Climactic Moment. Since then, we've also talked about the link between the Hook and the Resolution and the link between the First Plot Point and Third Plot Point. Although most of these links aren't immediately obvious, the Pinch Points are different. The Pinch Points are, in many ways, the identical twins in the family. Occurring at the 3/8th and 5/8th marks (or halfway between the First Plot Point/Midpoint and halfway between the Midpoint/Third Plot Point, respectively), they are often thought of as comparatively minor beats. They're not Plot Points after all. They're just Pinch Points-whatever that is.

However, their timing alone tells us the Pinch Points bear an equal load with all the other major turning points in a story. In fact, along with the Midpoint, they are the only major turning points entirely contained within the Second Act. This means, for one thing, that they are key factors in avoiding a sagging middle to your story.

How do they do this? Other than simply moving and turning the plot, the chief function of the Pinch Points is to reinforce the antagonistic force's presence and raise the stakes. They make the protagonist feel the "pinch" of the rising conflict.

Structurally Speaking: What Is the First Pinch Point?

The First Pinch Point occurs at approximately the 37% mark. This is halfway between the First Plot Point (which ended the First Act) at the 25% mark and the Midpoint at the 50% mark. Like all the other beats, its primary function is to turn the plot in some way. Something major happens that changes the conflict and the protagonist's approach to dealing with it.

Specifically, both the First and Second Pinch Points turn the plot in a way that emphasizes the antagonistic force's ability to create obstacles -thereby raising or emphasizing the stakes. There are many ways to do this, depending on the type of story you're writing:

In an action story, or any story in which the protagonist and antagonist are obviously pitted against one another, it may be some sort of victory for the antagonist and defeat for the protagonist.

In a romance, it may simply be an event that emphasizes the two leads' fears about their incompatibility.

In a mystery, or any story in which the antagonist is off-screen, it is often a clue about what the antagonistic character has been plotting unbeknownst to the protagonist.

In fact, the use of clues is inherent to both the Pinch Points, since these beats must also function to powerfully set up the major revelations that will occur at their subsequent beats. For the First Pinch Point, this subsequent beat is the Midpoint, which includes the Moment of Truth -arguably, the single most catalytic revelation in the protagonist's character arc if not the plot as well.

In the first half of the Second Act, the protagonist will still be in a "reactive" phase-or what screenwriter Matt Bird refers to as "trying the easy way." The Midpoint will mark a major transition into the "active" phase, or "doing things the hard way." But you can't just have the protagonist bumble along all through the first half, only to completely change his perspective and mode of action at the Midpoint. You have to build up to it-and the First Pinch Point is critical for accomplishing this.

As you can see in the graphic below, the section of the story between the First Plot Point and First Pinch Point is the "reaction" phase, in which the protagonist is behind the ball as she tries to adjust to the new paradigm in which she finds herself.

Then at the First Pinch Point, new truths begin to emerge. The section after the First Pinch Point, leading up to the Midpoint, is one of dawning realization. The protagonist's big revelation at the Midpoint will allow her to shift gears and move from reaction to action, from full-on immersion in her Lie to a dawning understanding of the Truth. The Midpoint will clue her in about the methods that haven't been working up until now-which, in turn, will show her what else she can try that might work instead. The First Pinch Point foreshadows this revelation.

(This article doesn't discuss the First and Third Acts, but here's the link to the corresponding First Act Timeline and Third Act Timeline graphics if you're interested.)

Structurally Speaking: What Is the Second Pinch Point?

The Second Pinch Point mirrors the First Pinch Point by occurring at approximately the 62% mark, halfway between the Midpoint and the Third Plot Point (which will begin the Third Act at the 75% mark). Other than timing, there is little technical difference between the two Pinch Points.

Like the First Pinch Point, the Second Pinch Point is a turning point designed to emphasize the antagonistic force, raise the stakes, and foreshadow the next major revelation at the Third Plot Point. As we discussed last week, the Third Plot Point is the "low moment" within both the character arc and the plot. The Moment of Truth at the Midpoint was when the protagonist first saw and accepted the power of the Truth, but he did not yet give up on the Lie He Believes because he did not yet understand that the Lie and the Truth are mutually exclusive. The Third Plot Point is where he will have to reckon with this incompatibility. The Lie-believing part of him must die and, if he is following a Positive-Change Arc, he must then be reborn in the Truth.

Usually this change at the Third Plot Point is catalyzed within the plot via revelations about the external conflict. Just when the protagonist thinks he is about to win the day, he suffers his greatest (or at least most symbolic) defeat yet. This defeat could be literal, or it could simply be a shattering revelation-such as that the antagonist has a huge army and a foolproof plan for winning.

Regardless, the Second Pinch Point exists to set up this major revelation and lead into the Third Act. As you saw in the graphic above, the section before the Second Pinch Point is one of "action" in which the protagonist begins utilizing what she learned at the Midpoint. But after the new clues of the Second Pinch Point, the next section is one of a "renewed push," in which the protagonist uses seemingly advantageous clues and incentives to double down in her pursuit of her goals. This push, however, will lead her first to the reversal at the Third Plot Point.

Recognizing the Joint Functions of Your First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point

We can identify several similarities between your story's First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point:

One of the most important structural jobs of the Pinch Points is to offer clues about both the plot conflict and the thematic philosophy. These clues will introduce plot-changing information. The protagonist may be told about something (e.g., someone tells him a secret), or he might witness something (e.g., finding another murder victim), or he might be involved in a plot-changing event (e.g., the antagonist launches a surprise attack).

For Example: In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the protagonist (who is undergoing treatment to erase memories after a painful breakup) experiences significant memories at both the Pinch Points, first of his ex Clementine confronting him (in a "pinch" from the antagonistic force of his own commitment issues), then of being chased by the doctor who performs the treatment (and who thereby embodies the antagonistic force).

In many ways, the above "clues" are the foreshadowing, via which the Pinch Points set up their subsequent turning points at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point. But you can also use any standard form of foreshadowing to lay the groundwork for the major moments to follow. This might take the form of the protagonist creating a plan which will be put in motion at the subsequent beats. Or it might be subtler and more symbolic. Or it might even be foreshadowing in reverse- by way of misdirection and irony.

For Example: In the complex murder mystery , both of the Pinch Points provide the protagonist with new insights into the murderer and his plans, neatly foreshadowing the subsequent beats. In the First Pinch Point, the protagonist receives a blackmail call from the murderer, which foreshadows the revelation of the murderer's identity at the Midpoint. In the Second Pinch Point, the protagonist is made party to the murderer's plan to frame someone else, which foreshadows the arrest of an innocent man at the Third Plot Point.

The Pinch Points offer the opportunity to bring the antagonistic force to center stage if the plot warrants it. This doesn't always mean the antagonist must be physically present since the Pinch Points can also "check in" on the antagonistic force simply by emphasizing a sense of his presence in some way. This could be via the revelation of clues, as above. Or in story that doesn't personify its antagonist but rather focuses on relational or inner conflicts, the antagonistic force might be emphasized merely by having the protagonist mull on her problems. Or an off-screen antagonistic force might merely be mentioned in some important way by other characters.

For Example: In Studio Ghibli's Howl's Moving Castle, the Pinch Points emphasize both the antagonism of the war and Howl's inner demons. The First Pinch Point follows up a scene in which the protagonist Sophie witnesses warships with a scene in which Howl has a meltdown, revealing what he believes is his true cowardly nature. The Second Pinch Point shows Howl returning from a fight with the enemy, in which he took the shape of a bird and is now, symbolically, in danger of turning into that monstrous shape forever.

Via all of the above, the Pinch Points must function to emphasize and/or raise the stakes. Whatever is at stake for the protagonist in the main conflict will come under fire at the subsequent beats of Midpoint and Third Plot Point. The Pinch Points offer the opportunity to remind the readers (and the characters) just what is on the line should the protagonist fail or mess up (which he inevitably will).

For Example: In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, both of the Pinch Points emphasize the titular antagonist's violence-and therefore what is at stake for the protagonist Rance Stoddard if he persists in opposing Valance to ratify statehood for an unnamed western territory. In the First Pinch Point, Valance is off-screen, but Rance receives news that Valance is killing farmers who are voting in favor of statehood. In the Second Pinch Point, Rance's friend and employer, the editor of the local newspaper, is savagely beaten by Valance and his cohorts.

4 Questions to Ask About Your First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point

1. How Will the Pinch Points Set Up the Major Revelations at the Moment of Truth and the Low Moment?

First, you'll want to identify what major revelations will be unveiled at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point. Then think about how you can use your Pinch Points to set up those revelations. How can you lead into the big revelations with some smaller revelations? How can you plant clues, which the protagonist can follow like breadcrumbs right up to the big revelations?

2. How Will the Pinch Points Foreshadow the Midpoint and the Third Plot Point?

If you plant clues at your Pinch Points, you're already foreshadowing the subsequent beats. But think about how you can deepen the effect. Beyond the revelations themselves, what else happens at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point that needs to be set up? The Midpoint and Third Plot Point are two of your major set-piece scenes/sequences. As such, they usually require a little preparation whether you're going to be writing about a battle or a ball.

3. How Can the Antagonist Be a Presence at the Pinch Points?

Whether your antagonistic force is someone standing in the way of your protagonist's goals, or a lack of trust between allies, or simply an inner weakness on your protagonist's part, consider how you can make the antagonistic force pertinent to the Pinch Points. This may be a good opportunity to bring the antagonist onstage or feature his POV if you've already introduced it. Or you may simply want to reference the protagonist's relationship to the antagonist in some crucial way.

4. How Can You Use the Pinch Points to Increase the Stakes and/or Remind Readers What Is Already at Stake?

Stories are built on stakes. If nothing were at stake for the protagonist, she wouldn't be on this journey. Those stakes should be present by implication in every scene, but the Pinch Points are the places to remind readers of exactly what the protagonist stands to lose in the conflict. Even better, since the Pinch Points are turning points which must move the plot, use them to raise the stakes in ways that foreshadow the coming confrontations at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point.

***

Next week, I'll be launching my new book Writing Your Story's Theme (yay!). Two weeks from now, we'll examine how the Midpoint acts as the pivot for all the partnered structural beats in the first and second half of the story. Happy writing!
Previous Posts in This Series:
Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! How do your First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point serve to set up their subsequent beats in the plot? Tell me in the comments!
Click the "Play" button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in iTunes).
___

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The Link Between Your Story's Pinch Points - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Of all the paired structural beats in a story, the Pinch Points are perhaps the most obvious. There are only two of them, they have the same name, and they perform essentially the same function in both their first and second iteration.

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Of all the paired structural beats in a story, the Pinch Points are perhaps the most obvious. There are only two of them, they have the same name, and they perform essentially the same function in both their first and second iteration. They're also perhaps the least known and most confusing of all the major turning points in classic story structure.

Today, we're continuing our series about "chiastic" structure-which refers to the idea of the second half of a story mirroring the first. Although this effect can be created in more obvious and deliberate ways, it is always present within the actual structure of a story. In the first post, I talked about how it's sometimes more helpful to think of story structure not as an arc but as a circle, in which one half mirrors the other with the ending circling back upon the beginning.

I started this series because I was asked to elaborate on the link between the Inciting Event and the Climactic Moment. Since then, we've also talked about the link between the Hook and the Resolution and the link between the First Plot Point and Third Plot Point. Although most of these links aren't immediately obvious, the Pinch Points are different. The Pinch Points are, in many ways, the identical twins in the family. Occurring at the 3/8th and 5/8th marks (or halfway between the First Plot Point/Midpoint and halfway between the Midpoint/Third Plot Point, respectively), they are often thought of as comparatively minor beats. They're not Plot Points after all. They're just Pinch Points-whatever that is.

However, their timing alone tells us the Pinch Points bear an equal load with all the other major turning points in a story. In fact, along with the Midpoint, they are the only major turning points entirely contained within the Second Act. This means, for one thing, that they are key factors in avoiding a sagging middle to your story.

How do they do this? Other than simply moving and turning the plot, the chief function of the Pinch Points is to reinforce the antagonistic force's presence and raise the stakes. They make the protagonist feel the "pinch" of the rising conflict.

Structurally Speaking: What Is the First Pinch Point?

The First Pinch Point occurs at approximately the 37% mark. This is halfway between the First Plot Point (which ended the First Act) at the 25% mark and the Midpoint at the 50% mark. Like all the other beats, its primary function is to turn the plot in some way. Something major happens that changes the conflict and the protagonist's approach to dealing with it.

Specifically, both the First and Second Pinch Points turn the plot in a way that emphasizes the antagonistic force's ability to create obstacles -thereby raising or emphasizing the stakes. There are many ways to do this, depending on the type of story you're writing:

In an action story, or any story in which the protagonist and antagonist are obviously pitted against one another, it may be some sort of victory for the antagonist and defeat for the protagonist.

In a romance, it may simply be an event that emphasizes the two leads' fears about their incompatibility.

In a mystery, or any story in which the antagonist is off-screen, it is often a clue about what the antagonistic character has been plotting unbeknownst to the protagonist.

In fact, the use of clues is inherent to both the Pinch Points, since these beats must also function to powerfully set up the major revelations that will occur at their subsequent beats. For the First Pinch Point, this subsequent beat is the Midpoint, which includes the Moment of Truth -arguably, the single most catalytic revelation in the protagonist's character arc if not the plot as well.

In the first half of the Second Act, the protagonist will still be in a "reactive" phase-or what screenwriter Matt Bird refers to as "trying the easy way." The Midpoint will mark a major transition into the "active" phase, or "doing things the hard way." But you can't just have the protagonist bumble along all through the first half, only to completely change his perspective and mode of action at the Midpoint. You have to build up to it-and the First Pinch Point is critical for accomplishing this.

As you can see in the graphic below, the section of the story between the First Plot Point and First Pinch Point is the "reaction" phase, in which the protagonist is behind the ball as she tries to adjust to the new paradigm in which she finds herself.

Then at the First Pinch Point, new truths begin to emerge. The section after the First Pinch Point, leading up to the Midpoint, is one of dawning realization. The protagonist's big revelation at the Midpoint will allow her to shift gears and move from reaction to action, from full-on immersion in her Lie to a dawning understanding of the Truth. The Midpoint will clue her in about the methods that haven't been working up until now-which, in turn, will show her what else she can try that might work instead. The First Pinch Point foreshadows this revelation.

(This article doesn't discuss the First and Third Acts, but here's the link to the corresponding First Act Timeline and Third Act Timeline graphics if you're interested.)

Structurally Speaking: What Is the Second Pinch Point?

The Second Pinch Point mirrors the First Pinch Point by occurring at approximately the 62% mark, halfway between the Midpoint and the Third Plot Point (which will begin the Third Act at the 75% mark). Other than timing, there is little technical difference between the two Pinch Points.

Like the First Pinch Point, the Second Pinch Point is a turning point designed to emphasize the antagonistic force, raise the stakes, and foreshadow the next major revelation at the Third Plot Point. As we discussed last week, the Third Plot Point is the "low moment" within both the character arc and the plot. The Moment of Truth at the Midpoint was when the protagonist first saw and accepted the power of the Truth, but he did not yet give up on the Lie He Believes because he did not yet understand that the Lie and the Truth are mutually exclusive. The Third Plot Point is where he will have to reckon with this incompatibility. The Lie-believing part of him must die and, if he is following a Positive-Change Arc, he must then be reborn in the Truth.

Usually this change at the Third Plot Point is catalyzed within the plot via revelations about the external conflict. Just when the protagonist thinks he is about to win the day, he suffers his greatest (or at least most symbolic) defeat yet. This defeat could be literal, or it could simply be a shattering revelation-such as that the antagonist has a huge army and a foolproof plan for winning.

Regardless, the Second Pinch Point exists to set up this major revelation and lead into the Third Act. As you saw in the graphic above, the section before the Second Pinch Point is one of "action" in which the protagonist begins utilizing what she learned at the Midpoint. But after the new clues of the Second Pinch Point, the next section is one of a "renewed push," in which the protagonist uses seemingly advantageous clues and incentives to double down in her pursuit of her goals. This push, however, will lead her first to the reversal at the Third Plot Point.

Recognizing the Joint Functions of Your First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point

We can identify several similarities between your story's First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point:

One of the most important structural jobs of the Pinch Points is to offer clues about both the plot conflict and the thematic philosophy. These clues will introduce plot-changing information. The protagonist may be told about something (e.g., someone tells him a secret), or he might witness something (e.g., finding another murder victim), or he might be involved in a plot-changing event (e.g., the antagonist launches a surprise attack).

For Example: In Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, the protagonist (who is undergoing treatment to erase memories after a painful breakup) experiences significant memories at both the Pinch Points, first of his ex Clementine confronting him (in a "pinch" from the antagonistic force of his own commitment issues), then of being chased by the doctor who performs the treatment (and who thereby embodies the antagonistic force).

In many ways, the above "clues" are the foreshadowing, via which the Pinch Points set up their subsequent turning points at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point. But you can also use any standard form of foreshadowing to lay the groundwork for the major moments to follow. This might take the form of the protagonist creating a plan which will be put in motion at the subsequent beats. Or it might be subtler and more symbolic. Or it might even be foreshadowing in reverse- by way of misdirection and irony.

For Example: In the complex murder mystery , both of the Pinch Points provide the protagonist with new insights into the murderer and his plans, neatly foreshadowing the subsequent beats. In the First Pinch Point, the protagonist receives a blackmail call from the murderer, which foreshadows the revelation of the murderer's identity at the Midpoint. In the Second Pinch Point, the protagonist is made party to the murderer's plan to frame someone else, which foreshadows the arrest of an innocent man at the Third Plot Point.

The Pinch Points offer the opportunity to bring the antagonistic force to center stage if the plot warrants it. This doesn't always mean the antagonist must be physically present since the Pinch Points can also "check in" on the antagonistic force simply by emphasizing a sense of his presence in some way. This could be via the revelation of clues, as above. Or in story that doesn't personify its antagonist but rather focuses on relational or inner conflicts, the antagonistic force might be emphasized merely by having the protagonist mull on her problems. Or an off-screen antagonistic force might merely be mentioned in some important way by other characters.

For Example: In Studio Ghibli's Howl's Moving Castle, the Pinch Points emphasize both the antagonism of the war and Howl's inner demons. The First Pinch Point follows up a scene in which the protagonist Sophie witnesses warships with a scene in which Howl has a meltdown, revealing what he believes is his true cowardly nature. The Second Pinch Point shows Howl returning from a fight with the enemy, in which he took the shape of a bird and is now, symbolically, in danger of turning into that monstrous shape forever.

Via all of the above, the Pinch Points must function to emphasize and/or raise the stakes. Whatever is at stake for the protagonist in the main conflict will come under fire at the subsequent beats of Midpoint and Third Plot Point. The Pinch Points offer the opportunity to remind the readers (and the characters) just what is on the line should the protagonist fail or mess up (which he inevitably will).

For Example: In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance, both of the Pinch Points emphasize the titular antagonist's violence-and therefore what is at stake for the protagonist Rance Stoddard if he persists in opposing Valance to ratify statehood for an unnamed western territory. In the First Pinch Point, Valance is off-screen, but Rance receives news that Valance is killing farmers who are voting in favor of statehood. In the Second Pinch Point, Rance's friend and employer, the editor of the local newspaper, is savagely beaten by Valance and his cohorts.

4 Questions to Ask About Your First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point

1. How Will the Pinch Points Set Up the Major Revelations at the Moment of Truth and the Low Moment?

First, you'll want to identify what major revelations will be unveiled at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point. Then think about how you can use your Pinch Points to set up those revelations. How can you lead into the big revelations with some smaller revelations? How can you plant clues, which the protagonist can follow like breadcrumbs right up to the big revelations?

2. How Will the Pinch Points Foreshadow the Midpoint and the Third Plot Point?

If you plant clues at your Pinch Points, you're already foreshadowing the subsequent beats. But think about how you can deepen the effect. Beyond the revelations themselves, what else happens at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point that needs to be set up? The Midpoint and Third Plot Point are two of your major set-piece scenes/sequences. As such, they usually require a little preparation whether you're going to be writing about a battle or a ball.

3. How Can the Antagonist Be a Presence at the Pinch Points?

Whether your antagonistic force is someone standing in the way of your protagonist's goals, or a lack of trust between allies, or simply an inner weakness on your protagonist's part, consider how you can make the antagonistic force pertinent to the Pinch Points. This may be a good opportunity to bring the antagonist onstage or feature his POV if you've already introduced it. Or you may simply want to reference the protagonist's relationship to the antagonist in some crucial way.

4. How Can You Use the Pinch Points to Increase the Stakes and/or Remind Readers What Is Already at Stake?

Stories are built on stakes. If nothing were at stake for the protagonist, she wouldn't be on this journey. Those stakes should be present by implication in every scene, but the Pinch Points are the places to remind readers of exactly what the protagonist stands to lose in the conflict. Even better, since the Pinch Points are turning points which must move the plot, use them to raise the stakes in ways that foreshadow the coming confrontations at the Midpoint and Third Plot Point.

***

Next week, I'll be launching my new book Writing Your Story's Theme (yay!). Two weeks from now, we'll examine how the Midpoint acts as the pivot for all the partnered structural beats in the first and second half of the story. Happy writing!
Previous Posts in This Series:
Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! How do your First Pinch Point and Second Pinch Point serve to set up their subsequent beats in the plot? Tell me in the comments!
Click the "Play" button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in iTunes).
___

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The Link Between Your Story's Pinch Points - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Of all the paired structural beats in a story, the Pinch Points are perhaps the most obvious. There are only two of them, they have the same name, and they perform essentially the same function in both their first and second iteration.

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As you build your own scenes, try to match them left to right: The thematic questions raised on the left are answered on the right.

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When writers put on their story theorist caps, nothing is more exciting than those moments when you get to recognize consistent patterns emerging within obvious story forms. This is the basis of all of our understanding (and musing) about story, including the chiastic story structure we've been studying these past few months.

Although writers sometimes think of story structure as something external (and therefore rather arbitrary) that we impose on a story in order to make it look a certain accepted way, it is actually just the opposite. Story structure, in all its many posited forms, is simply a record of the long-recognized patterns that have emerged from humankind's millennia of stories.

By a certain point in the pursuit of story, most writers become familiar with what is now considered the "standard" Three-Act Structure. But as we've been exploring in this little series, another lesser-known pattern that emerges from this foundation is that of chiastic story structure. Sometimes called "ring structure," a chiastic structure is one in which the two halves mirror each other in reverse order-in essence coming full circle.

In the last five posts, we've explored how all the major beats recognized in the Three-Act Structure are in fact inherently chiastic. We find important structural and symbolic links between all the following:

And we also find a linked or mirrored structure inherent within itself at the story's central pivot:

Now that we have examined the chiastic links between all the major structural beats, I want to close out the discussion with an overview of chiastic story structure itself, along with a look at how you can employ this technique over the longer work of an entire series.

What Is Chiastic Story Structure?

As stated, chiastic structure is a literary technique of repetitive symmetry, designed to create insight and resonance through both comparison and contrast. We can witness chiasmus as a common technique in poetry, employing the pattern of "A, B, B, A" (and so on). It can also be used most simply on the sentence level, as we see in such famous sentences as:

"Ask not what your country can do for you, ask what you can do for your country."-John F. Kennedy

"We shape our buildings, and afterward our buildings shape us."-Winston Churchill

"All for one and one for all!"-Alexandre Dumas

"Man can be destroyed but not defeated. Man can be defeated but not destroyed."-Ernest Hemingway

Chiastic structure is perhaps most famously recognized from ancient religious texts, including the Bible. Wikipedia shows the Genesis account of the flood to be structured like this:

Other ancient texts such as Beowulf and The Iliad can also be seen to demonstrate chiasmus, both structurally and narratively. More recently, many analyses have shown that the great cohesion and resonance of the Harry Potter series is thanks largely to its chiastic structure. Of course, as we've been exploring throughout this series, any story that adheres to classic structure is, in fact, offering at least a nominal chiastic structure.

Why is chiastic story structure so prevalent and, clearly, so powerful? There are many reasons, not least the fact that it provides plentiful opportunities to use the potent tools of comparison and contrast to deepen thematic weft, sometimes overtly and sometimes subconsciously. Moreover, chiastic story structure all but ensures a story will emerge cohesive and resonant. If all its major pieces are connected, then necessarily they will be all of a whole. They come together, even in their variation, to create a unified big picture.

Perhaps most importantly, but also most simply, chiastic structure demands a story fulfill the sometimes mystifying directive that the " ending is in the beginning." In chiastic structure, this is almost literally true since the beginning not only foreshadows the ending, but in fact ensures the beginning and ending are reverse images of one another, however subtly.

Like any storytelling technique, chiastic structure can be applied too overtly and become on the nose. You don't want the links between your story's halves to feel repetitious, nor do you want them to be obviously "matchy-matchy."

You can see how wonderfully successful and resonant (and yet not "matchy" or on the nose) chiasmus is in the Harry Potter series simply in recognizing the link between the series' beginning and ending.

In the beginning, Voldemort casts a killing curse on Harry and does not die; in the end, he casts a killing curse and does die.

This is chiasmus at its absolute most basic within this series. The series utilizes a linked structure almost perfectly scene by scene in every book, as well as over the course of the entire series. Many people have written about this extensively, including in this graphic.

4 Tips for Implementing Chiastic Structure in a Series

In past posts, we've already talked about how you can employ a chiastic structure in standalone books simply by ensuring they are classically structured. Understanding how the story comes full circle in this way allows you to strengthen the mirroring elements throughout both halves of the book. But as we've already seen in the reference to the Harry Potter series, you can also utilize chiastic structure to powerful effect by applying it to the overarching structure of a longer series of books. Although the same basic principles apply to series structure as to standalone structure, here are a few particular tips to keep in mind when creating chiastic story structure for a series of books.

1. Know the Ending in the Beginning

Whether or not you outline your story before the first draft, at some point you must know how your story will end. And when you know how it will end, you must go back to make sure this ending is reflected in the beginning. (You can see more about the specifics of how to do this in the previous posts on the link between the Hook and the Resolution and particularly the link between the Inciting Event and the Climactic Moment.)

This is especially important in writing a series of cohesion and resonance. Unfortunately, foreseeing the ending is much harder to do in a series than in a standalone book. Most of us write the first book with little or no true understanding of precisely how the series will end. So what can you do?

The most obvious solution is to outline the entire series before you start writing the first book.

You can also try to implement the chiastic effect as you go by mirroring the second half to the first (rather than the other way around). This can work, but it can also be difficult to pull off soundly since the most important moment in the story is the ending. It's usually easier to create a resonant plot from a beginning that mirrors the ending, rather than an ending that mirrors the beginning (although the MCU did it rather handily).

Regardless your approach, try at least to gain a firm sense of how many books will be in the series. An odd number, such as the classic three books of a trilogy or the seven books of Harry Potter, offers the most ease for constructing a chiastic structure, since there will already be an inherent symmetry to the books, with one book (the second or the fourth in these examples) standing out as the obvious Midpoint of the series. If you don't know which book will be your story's centerpiece, you'll have difficulty consciously structuring the series in a chiastic way.

2. Make Use of the Series' Innate Structural Chiastic Offerings

Any overarching series is essentially a single story. As such, this overarching story will offer an inherent story arc of its own, following all of same foundational beats that are found in each individual book:

Hook

Inciting Event

First Plot Point

First Pinch Point

Midpoint (Second Plot Point)

Second Pinch Point

Third Plot Point

Climax

Resolution

The timing may be slightly different in the series than in the standalone books, but the basic structure holds true. This means that just as an individual book's structure is inherently chiastic, so too is the overarching story of any series. In the same way as you can mine this inherency to magnify the chiastic effect in a standalone, you can also mine it from the series as a whole with just a little careful conscious attention to the natural links between structural beats.

3. Choose Chiastic Symbols, Settings, and "Easter Eggs"

There may be times when a series won't allow you to perfectly execute chiastic scenes at every single structural beat. (This isn't "ideal," of course, but let's be realistic...) Although chiasmus is most powerful on the plot level-when the events of linked scenes pay each other off in important ways that move the story forward -you can still communicate the concept of symmetry to readers on subtler level.

In fact, even when your chiastic plot structure is perfect, underlining it with additional symbolic symmetry will only strengthen the effect. Think about the visuals you have chosen for each of your linked structural beats. How can they mirror each other? Pay special attention to symbols, colors, settings, characters who are present, even invisible "Easter eggs"-hidden symbolism that only the most perceptive readers will even notice at all.

4. Remember Chiasmus Is "Comparative Symmetry"

Finally, remember that chiasmus evokes meaning not simply through creating obvious links or "sameness" between structural beats, but most importantly by contrasting them. Chiasmus creates the effect of "mirror images" between the halves of a story-which means the images are reversed from one side of the story to the next.

This is reflected most obviously in the protagonist's character arc: perhaps in the beginning he believed a Lie, but in the end he believes the Truth. You can utilize this "reversal" in many ways, not just to avoid repetition but to emphasize the progression and the dynamic change that is happening from one half of the story to the next. In considering how you can create resonant links between the beats in the first and second halves of your story, look not just to comparisons but to blatant contrasts.

***

Thanks so much to all of you for your enthusiasm in joining me on this journey through this beautiful layer of story theory-chiastic story structure. I started this series as what I thought would be a standalone post, in response to a question from one of you about this mysterious link I'm always talking about between the Inciting Event and the Climactic Moment. But your passionate interest in the subject led me to expand it into this six-part series, and I'm so glad you did because I've learned an incredible amount along the way myself.

All the best with your chiastic structures in your own stories!

Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! Do you think you'll ever attempt chiastic story structure in a series? Tell me in the comments!

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The Power of Chiastic Story Structure (Especially in a Series) - Helping Writers Become Authors

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When writers put on their story theorist caps, nothing is more exciting than those moments when you get to recognize consistent patterns emerging within obvious story forms. This is the basis of all of our understanding (and musing) about story, including the chiastic story structure we've been studying these past few months.

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... having changed

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Then return to their familiar situation

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Pay a heavy price for it

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They get what they wanted

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They adapt to it

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They enter an unfamiliar situation

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From the archives, a February 2012 post featuring Dan Harmon's 'circle theory' of Story. I've updated it with a video featuring Joseph Campbell and the Hero's Journey and a detailed explanation of Harmon's take.

Dan Harmon

I suspect we have many fans of the TV series "Community" and "Rick and Morty", so my guess is there will be a lot of interest in this Wired article featuring the show's creator Dan Harmon. It's a long piece so let me zero in on Harmon's approach to the story-crafting process:

The circles are everywhere, if you know to look for them. They're on the whiteboards around Dan Harmon's office, on sheets tacked to his walls, on a notepad on the floor of his car. Each one is hand-drawn and divided into quadrants with scribbled notes and numbers sprouting along the edges. They look like little targets.

Harmon, 38, is the creator of Community, a sitcom about a group of community-college study buddies and the most giddily experimental show on network TV. He began doodling the circles in the late '90s, while stuck on a screenplay. He wanted to codify the storytelling process - to find the hidden structure powering the movies and TV shows, even songs, he'd been absorbing since he was a kid. "I was thinking, there must be some symmetry to this," he says of how stories are told. "Some simplicity." So he watched a lot of Die Hard, boiled down a lot of Joseph Campbell, and came up with the circle, an algorithm that distills a narrative into eight steps:

1. A character is in a zone of comfort

2. But they want something

3. They enter an unfamiliar situation

4. Adapt to it

5. Get what they wanted

6. Pay a heavy price for it

7. Then return to their familiar situation

8. Having changed

Harmon calls his circles embryos - they contain all the elements needed for a satisfying story - and he uses them to map out nearly every turn on Community, from throwaway gags to entire seasons. If a plot doesn't follow these steps, the embryo is invalid, and he starts over. To this day, Harmon still studies each film and TV show he watches, searching for his algorithm underneath, checking to see if the theory is airtight. "I can't not see that circle," he says. "It's tattooed on my brain."

"Star Wars," ten sit-coms? That guy Joseph Campbell missed his calling! Should've been a Hollywood writer. Here are a few versions of Campbell's 'circles'. First, the 17 stages of The Hero's Journey as laid out in Campbell's book "The Hero With a Thousand Faces":

Here is another circle representation with a simplified 12-stage version:

And here is an even more basic version of The Hero's Journey:

There's value in each version and there are endless iterations, such as what Harmon has done with the show "Community." From a screenwriting perspective, the goal is not to use The Hero's Journey as a formula. That just results in formulaic scripts. Rather it is to use these ideas as tools to dig into your story and find its soul, then its structure. The plot should arise from the characters. Which sounds just like how Dan Harmon approaches his story-crafting process.

Here is a video which goes into detail explaining Harmon's circle theory:

For more of the article, go here.
Comment Archive

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Dan Harmon, The Hero's Journey, and the Circle Theory of Story

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From the archives, a February 2012 post featuring Dan Harmon's 'circle theory' of Story. I've updated it with a video featuring Joseph Campbell and the Hero's Journey and a detailed explanation of Harmon's take.

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But they want something

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DAN HARMON STORY CIRCLE

Step One: You

The essence of the "You" step is to establish the protagonist of the story. It doesn't always need to be a single person. It could be a family or a team. This is our introduction to our main character(s), an opportunity to see them before the story truly begins.

This is important in creating a compelling character arc. A huge part of storytelling is the "change" the protagonist makes during their journey. In this stage, we firmly establish their starting point so we can assess this change at the end. This is also the time to understand the context around the character - their world, its rules, and how they fit inside it.

If we look at our case studies, we can see what the "You" step looks like.

Harmon Story Circle

Step Two: Need

Once we've been introduced to the protagonist and their world, the next step is to figure out what they "need." Something happens to our character that presents a problem or a question. This is when the story starts to take shape - if "You" is the who of the story, "Need" is the what.

This is where we learn the main goal of the protagonist, the pursuit of which will guide the rest of the story.

Plot Embryo

Step Three: Go

Needs drive us into action. The "Go" step marks the protagonist's first steps across the threshold in pursuit of the need. This is why you always hear "we need an active protagonist." If there is a "Need" but not a "Go," the story ends. When writing your own script, make your need so vital that it's impossible not to go.

Crossing this 3rd step is also when the protagonist enters the bottom half of the Story Circle. Leaving their normal world behind and officially entering the unknown.

Story Circle

Step Four: Search

Search is where things begin getting more complicated. Both concerning the story you are telling AND in terms of the process. The character can address the need by searching for an answer. Great stories don't always do this so literally. For Harmon's Story Circle, it works to keep it active and straightforward.

In a big epic feature film drama or a novel, the "search" is going to require more than a physical search. That means it's a series of obstacles the hero must overcome. It's where the rubber meets the road regarding that need.

Harmon Circle

Step Five: Find

Eureka! The hero has searched and searched, and now he's found the Need that sent them on this journey. But is the story over? Nope. Because in a good story, the hero doesn't find what he needs.

He might have found what he wanted, but it turns out he needs something else. Something bigger. This is where plot and character development often collide.

Dan Harmon's Story Circle

Step Six: Take

Take whatever you found! And escape with it! Campbell might call this part of the story circle the magic flight. Even though the hero successfully acquires their Need, it comes at a price. Even after their initial success, the protagonist(s) suffer heavily losses.

Depending on the genre, these "losses" could be anything from a temporary setback to the death of a major character.

Story Circle Examples

Step Seven: Return

The return stage is coming into the home stretch. The character has brought back into the normal realm whatever they found and took. Be it a magical item, a person, a lesson...and as a result of this they...change.

Harmon Story Circle

Step Eight: Change

The change could be a personal one; it can be change to the world around them. In the instance of a movie or long story, it would be both.

Sometimes the change has opposite effects too. The world has changed for the better, but maybe the protagonist has changed for the worst. Playing with the change step can be interesting.

Story Circle

Closing up the Story Circle

Change is what makes it a good story. Change is the key to any story. The 8 steps built into the Dan Harmon Story Circle are designed to facilitate that change.

What do we do when we tell stories? In a basic, primal way, we try to grasp the changes around us. The changes that we can't control. Why do people die? Why does the sun rise each day?

Our stories are how we better understand the world around us. In a way, stories are how we help ourselves cope with change. Reminding ourselves over and again that change will happen, and life goes on.

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How Dan Harmon's Story Circle Can Make Your Story Better

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Breaking down and understanding writer Dan Harmon's story circle outlining tool and how it can help you to create a more compelling story.

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And, now, the moment we've all been waiting for! The climax is the pièce de résistance of our gourmet meal of a novel. When we wheel out the climax and lift the serving dish's gleaming silver lid, this is the bit that gets all the "oohs" and "aahs." The climax of a story should have readers on the edges of their seats. They should be breathless, tense, and curious to the point of bursting. If we've done our jobs right, they should have a general idea of what's coming (thanks to our artful foreshadowing), but they should also be suffering under the exquisite torture of more than a shade or two of doubt. What's gonna happen? Is the hero going to survive? Will he save the world/his family/the battle/his life in time?

The climax is where we pull out our big guns. This is a scene that needs to wow readers, so dig deep for your most extraordinary and imaginative ideas. Instead of a fistfight, why not a fistfight on top of a moving train? Instead of a declaration of love, why not a declaration in the middle of a presidential inauguration? This does not, of course, mean we should push our stories into the realm of the unrealistic or melodramatic, but how far and where we push is completely dependent on the story and its genre. The point is to bring the story and its primary conflict to its expected moment of irreversible resolution in a way that fulfills our book's every promise to our readers.

What is the climax?

In a sense, the entire third act is the climax. From the plot point at the end of the second act onward, the action will be rising. The character has been backed into the wall and has no choice but to fight back. However, the climax proper is the climax within the climactic third act. It's the moment when the two speeding trains finally collide into a single unforgettable scene.

In The Curse of Chalion by Lois McMaster Bujold, the climax is reached when the protagonist Cazaril and the antagonist Martou dy Jironal finally clash in the duel that kills dy Jironal and breaks the curse upon the royal family. In Norman Jewison's The Thomas Crown Affair, the climactic moment comes when insurance investigator Vicki Anderson, waiting with the police, watches Crown's Rolls Royce arrive to pick up the stolen bank money, only to discover that Crown has left the country and sent a decoy in his place. In A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett, the climax revolves around Sara's returning Mr. Carrisford's monkey and subsequently revealing herself to be the long sought-after daughter of Carrisford's dead business partner.

In some stories, the climax will involve a drawn-out physical battle. In others, the climax can be nothing more than a simple admission that changes everything for the protagonist. Almost always, it is a moment of revelation for the main character. Depending on the needs of the story, the protagonist will come to a life-changing epiphany directly before, during, or directly after the climax. He will then act definitively upon that revelation, capping the change in his character arc and ending the primary conflict, either physically or spiritually.

Where does the climax belong?

The climax occurs very near to the end of the third act. More often than not, it will be the penultimate scene, just before the denouement (as it is in all of the examples above). Since the climax says everything there is to be said, with the exception of a little emotional mopping up, there's no need for the story to continue long after its completion.

Occasionally, stories will include a faux climax, in which the protagonist thinks he's ended the conflict, only to realize he hasn't addressed the true antagonistic force standing in between him and his goal. For example, in Pixar's Toy Story, Woody and Buzz defeat the evil neighbor kid Sid in a faux climax, only to realize they may still miss the moving van that will take them to Andy's new home. Faux climaxes do nothing to change the requirements of the actual climax.

Lessons from film and literature

How do our chosen books and movies knock their climaxes out of the park? There's a reason all four of these stories are popular and memorable, and a large part of that reason comes down to their stellar fulfillment of all the necessities of a good climax. Let's take a look!

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): As in most romantic stories, the climax of this classic novel is the moment in which the two leads finally come together, admit their love for each other, and resolve upon a long-term relationship. After Darcy's gallantry in patching up Lydia's elopement with Wickham and his efforts to reunite Bingley and Jane, he and Lizzy are at last alone on a walk, during which they're able to put straight their former misconceptions, repent of their misconduct to one another (a personal turning point for each of them), and properly affiance themselves.

It's a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): In the moment after George's "gift" of seeing the world without himself in it, he runs back to the bridge and fervently prays, "I want to live again!" This moment is both his personal revelation and a bit of a faux climax. It properly caps the unborn sequence (which follows a mini plot and structure of its own) and leads to the true climax in which the town rallies to help George make up the lost $8,000 before he can be arrested.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): After Ender and his team graduated from Battle School, they entered a new series of what they all believed to be further tactical games, intended to train them for the day when they would finally face the Formics. Pushed to the limit of his physical and emotional endurance, Ender triggers the climax when he reaches the personal decision to break what he perceives as the rules. He looses his frustrated aggression on the "game" and completely destroys the enemy. Then comes the revelation that he wasn't playing a game at all, but rather commanding the faraway troops who were fighting the Formics in real time.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir (2004): The final climactic battle between the Surprise and the Acheron takes up a lengthy section of the third act, but even lengthy climax sequences must rise to a single red-hot point. In this instance, the climax of the climax is the moment in which Jack enters the surgery to find the captain, his long-pursued enemy, dead. He takes the captain's sword from the surgeon and begins organizing the mopping up.

Takeaway value

Each climax is unique since each one must bear out the needs and reflect the tone of its story. As we can see from just our few examples, the possibilities for the climactic moment are vast and go far beyond the simple "good guy kills bad guy" trope. However, they all have a few important factors in common:

1. The climax occurs very near the end of the book, usually only a scene or two away from the last page.

2. The climax is usually a part of a larger sequence of scenes that builds up to the important climactic moment.

3. The climax ends the primary conflict with the antagonistic force in a decisive way (whether the protagonist wins or loses).

4. The climax is the fulcrum around which turns the character arc. This moment is either the direct result of the protagonist's personal revelation or is the trigger that creates the character's epiphany. Many of the most powerful climaxes are those that create a one-two punch by coupling the revelation with the action that ends the conflict: First, the character has his revelation, then he immediately acts upon it.

5. Your story may have two climaxes, in which a faux climax leads up to the climax proper, depending on how many layers of conflict you've created. Give yourself permission to cut loose with your climax. Have fun with it and think outside the box. But make sure you've checked off all the important elements of structure, so you can give readers an experience that will forever cement your story in their memories.

Stay tuned: Next week, we'll talk about the Resolution.

Tell me your opinion: Does your climax fulfill all your promises to your readers?
Related Posts: The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 3: The First Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 4: The First Plot Point The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 5: The Inciting Event and the Key Event The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 6: The First Half of the Second Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 7: The Midpoint The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 8: The Second Half of the Second Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 1: Why Should Authors Care?
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 9: The Third Act

Click the "Play" button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in iTunes).
http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/kmweiland.com/podcast/structure-10.mp3

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 10: The Climax - Helping Writers Become Authors

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And, now, the moment we've all been waiting for! The climax is the pièce de résistance of our gourmet meal of a novel. When we wheel out the climax and lift the serving dish's gleaming silver lid, this is the bit that gets all the "oohs" and "aahs."

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The third act is the moment we've all been waiting for-readers, writers, and characters alike. This final section of the story is the point. It's what we've been building up to all this time. If the first and second acts were engaging and aesthetic labyrinths, the third act is where X marks the spot. We've found the treasure. Now it's time to start digging.

Like all the other acts, the third act opens with a bang, but unlike the other acts, it never lets up. From the 75% mark on, the characters and the readers alike are in for a wild ride. All the threads we've been weaving up to this point must now be artfully tied together. The main character must finally face (and presumably overcome) the antagonistic force by way of first learning from and then overcoming his own internal conflict. By the time the third act is finished, all the salient questions must be answered, the conflict resolved one way or another, and the reader left with a feeling of satisfaction.

Because the third act is made up of several important and intricate parts, I'll be splitting it into three sections, which we'll discuss in three posts. Today, let's look at the third act as a whole and, specifically, the plot point that marks its beginning.

What is the third act?

The third act is a place of no escape for the protagonist. He's been backed up to a wall. He no longer has any options but to face the antagonistic force. All his reactions and actions in the previous acts have led him to a point from which he must face every last one of his weaknesses and mistakes. If he's to triumph, he must allow himself to be broken by them-and then rise from his ashes with new wisdom and strength. This is do-or-die territory. When he makes his last bid to obtain his story-long goal and his deepest inner need (which may or may not be the same thing, and, indeed, may even be antithetical), he's putting all his cards on the table. If he doesn't win now, he never will. That, of course, means the stakes have to be ratcheted to the breaking point. The third act is all about raising those stakes.

The third act will begin with another life-changing plot point. This plot point, more than any of those that have preceded it, will set the protagonist's feet on the path toward the final conflict in the climax. From here on in, your clattering dominoes form a straight line as your protagonist hurtles toward his inevitable clash with the antagonistic force. The third act, as a whole, is full of big and important scenes, so by comparison its opening plot point is often less defined than the plot points that marked the first and second acts. However, its thrust must be just adamant.

In Christopher Nolan's Batman Begins, the third act is launched when Ra's Al Ghul announces his intentions to destroy Gotham, then burns Bruce Wayne's mansion and leaves him for dead. In The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins, the third act's opening plot point is the announcement that, for the first time in history, two contestants can win if they're both from the same district, which then prompts Katniss to find Peeta. In True Grit by Charles Portis, the third act revolves around Mattie's discovery of the murderer Tom Chaney and her subsequent capture by Ned Pepper's gang of outlaws.

Where does the third act belong?

The third act occupies the final third of the book, beginning around or slightly before the 75% mark and continuing until the end. This is a relatively small portion of the book, particularly when you think about all that must be accomplished within it. One of the reasons the third act picks up the pace compared to the previous acts is the simple necessity of cramming in everything that needs to be addressed before the book runs out of time and space.

All the characters (and other important playing pieces, à la the Maltese Falcon) must be assembled. Subplots must be satisfactorily tied off. Foreshadowing must be fulfilled. Both the hero and the antagonist (if there is one) must have time to put into play the final aspects of their plans. The hero must face his inner demons and complete his character arc, most likely in concert with the final deciding conflict between the hero and the antagonistic force. And then everything must be tied off in a satisfying denouement. That's a lot to accomplish in a mere 25% of the book, so there's no time to waste. In the third act, we can see one of the primary benefits of structure: for the story to work, all the pieces in the first and second acts must be properly in place to lay the necessary foundation for the finale.

Lessons from film and literature

The third act is where the masters rise above the mediocre, and we can see this nowhere more clearly than in the stories that have wowed us with their endings. Our four exemplary books and movies definitely qualify.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): The third act opens with the dramatic discovery of Lydia's elopement with Mr. Wickham. As with the previous major plot points at the 25% and 50% marks, this one is a game changer. The Bennets' lives will never be the same, not only personally with their loss of and worry for their youngest member, but also publicly since Lydia's scandalous behavior will almost certainly ruin the other sisters' ability to marry well. Even more importantly to Lizzy, she fears that Darcy's abrupt behavior toward her after he hears the news is an indication she's lost, once and for all, any chance she had of regaining his love. As a woman in early 19 th century England, Lizzy isn't capable of taking direct action to personally rectify the situation. But she does what she can by immediately leaving Lambton with her aunt and uncle and returning home to her stricken family.

It's a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): The second act ends with Uncle Billy's losing the Building & Loan's $8,000 and George's frantic attempts to recover it. In most stories that plot point would be more than dramatic enough to open the third act. But in this classic film, the third act opens with an even stronger change of events: the appearance of the angel Clarence, who was foreshadowed in the opening, and his granting of George's wish to "never be born." The third act is made up almost entirely of Clarence's action and George's reactions. The antagonist isn't even present in the unborn sequence that fills up most of the third act (although his presence looms large). The focus here is entirely on George's inner journey and transformation.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): When Ender is forced into the lethal confrontation with Bonzo, he is also forced to the breaking point. The time has come for Ender to leave Battle School and step up to command Dragon Army in a larger arena. But after Bonzo's death, the commanders realize they're on the brink of losing the boy they've spent so much time and effort grooming to save the world from the Formic aliens. Ender is given permission to return to Earth to visit his beloved sister Valentine. While there, he must make the decision that will change not only the fate of the world, but also his own life. From the moment he decides to move forward, return to space, and take his promotion, events are sent into the irrevocable spiral that will lead up to the climax.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir (2004): When a convalescent Stephen, set loose upon his long-anticipated and long-delayed Galapagos expedition, accidentally discovers the Acheron at anchor on the far side of the island, the third act launches in a flurry of preparations. Jack formulates his plan to lure the enemy privateer in close enough for the kill, and his crew hurries to get everything ready for the battle we've all known was coming since the very first scene.

Takeaway value

As always, our best lessons are those we learn from the execution of great stories. So what can we glean from our chosen stories? How do they go about setting up and implementing the lengthy to-do list of the third act?

1. The third act begins around the 75% mark, although this timing is more flexible than it was with the previous acts. Sometimes the third act can begin as early as the 70% mark, although it rarely begins later than the 75% mark.

2. A major plot point marks the end of the second act and the beginning of the third. This may be an utter upheaval of the gains the character thought he made in the second half of the second act (as in Pride & Prejudice), an unexpected event (as in It's a Wonderful Life), a personal decision (as in Ender's Game), or a direct meeting between protagonist and antagonist (as in Master and Commander).

3. From its opening plot point onward, the third act picks up speed and isn't likely to slow down.

4. However, the third act must be thoughtful enough in its first moments to allow all the pieces to either be completely tied off and set out of the way (such as Ender's relationship with his sister) or assembled for the showdown (as in Master and Commander).

The third act is where stories are made or ruined. Everything that's come before is important, but this is where the author's mettle is tested. If we can deliver a solid third act, we've accomplished what thousands of novelists before us (even published ones) have failed to do. This is where writers become authors!

Stay tuned: Next week, we'll talk about the Climax.

Tell me your opinion: Does your third act tie off all the loose ends?
Related Posts: The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 3: The First Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 4: The First Plot Point The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 5: The Inciting Event and the Key Event The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 6: The First Half of the Second Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 7: The Midpoint The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 1: Why Should Authors Care?
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 8: The Second Half of the Second Act

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 9: The Third Act - Helping Writers Become Authors

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The third act is the moment we've all been waiting for-readers, writers, and characters alike. This final section of the story is the point. It's what we've been building up to all this time. If the first and second acts were engaging and aesthetic labyrinths, the third act is where X marks the spot.

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It's a knock-out ending if the conclusion is both surprising and completely predictable. The building blocks to the solution were there the whole time. The growth of the character and the resolution of the plot both speak to the theme.

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 11: The Resolution

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The resolution is always a bittersweet moment. You've reached the end of the story. You've climbed the mountain, and now you can plant your flag of completion at its peak. But as the finale of all your work, this is also the finale of all the fun you've experienced in your wonderful world of made-up people and places.

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Now that we've passed the midpoint, things are starting to heat up in our story. The second half of the second act is where your plot really starts popping. Your main character caps the dramatic event at the midpoint with his decision to stop reacting and start acting. Almost always, this is born of a personal revelation, even if the character can't yet quite put it into concrete terms. As of the midpoint, he's becoming someone new. He's realizing his full power and stretching his wings to discover what he can do with that power. His crippling inner problems are still getting in the way, but, at the very least, he's realizing that he has to do something either about or in spite of them.

Because the second half of the second act will lead right into the slugfest of the climax, this is the author's last chance to get all his playing pieces into position. We have to set up the line of dominoes that will knock into the final major plot point at the 75% mark, and we do that by creating a series of actions from the main character. Although he's not likely to be in control of the situation, he's at least moving forward and calling a few shots of his own, instead of taking it and taking it from the antagonistic force.

What is the second half of the second act?

The second half of the second act begins (just as the first half did) with a strong action from the character. He rises from the drama and trauma of the midpoint and grits his teeth. He immediately responds with an action that fights back. This can be a direct response to the antagonist, such as Kel's intensified attacks on the nobles in Brandon Sanderson's Mistborn; an awakening from ignorance, such as Prince Dastan's search for the truth about the dagger in Prince of Persia; an intensified drive toward the primary goal, such as the beginning of the Sparta Tournament in Warrior; or an inner squaring of the shoulders, such as the return of the militia after an especially brutal attack by the British, in The Patriot.

The series of actions in the second half of the second act mirrors the series of reactions in the first half. In a sense, of course, the character is still reacting (if you peer too closely at the line between action and reaction, it can become blurry very quickly). But the emphasis is on his own inner purpose now, rather than his need to raise his shields and duck his head. He's not in control of his destiny, but at least now he's trying to do something about his lack of control.

Where does the second half of the second act belong?

The second half of the second act begins with the midpoint and spans 25% of the book to the beginning of the climax at the 75% mark. This is a good chunk of the book, and the character needs every bit of that space to get himself in gear. He has lessons to learn and problems to face, so that he'll be ready to confront the antagonistic forces (both inner and outer) in the climax. Don't skimp on this part of the story. But also be wary of having him change too much after the midpoint. His final personal crisis will occur in the climax, and you don't want to lessen the impact of that moment by allowing the character to fix himself up too soon. Use this part of the book to prep him for his final battle and foreshadow the inner demons he'll have to face.

Examples from film and literature

As always, the masterpieces of talented storytellers can teach us boatloads about how to apply this important element of structure to our own stories. Let's take a look at our chosen books and movies.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): After being pushed completely off balance by Darcy's proposal and subsequent justification of his other supposed misdeeds, Lizzy spends the second half of the second act realizing she's misjudged him and that, indeed, she's falling in love with him. Her actions in this segment take place more on an internal platform than an external one. She is actively realizing her mistakes and owning up to them (first privately and then more or less publicly in her attempts to treat him with respect and kindness when they accidentally meet at Pemberley). This is a good example of how the second half of the second act can be used primarily as a time of catalytic epiphany and self-realization.

It's a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): After spurning Old Man Potter's attempts to buy him off, George comes to grips with his life in Bedford Falls and moves forward. He and Mary have four children, and he remains home during World War II ("4F on account of his ear") and continues to protect his town from Potter's avarice and manipulation. Thanks to his renewed commitment to the Bailey Building & Loan, in the aftermath of Potter's failed attempts to corrupt him, George is able to put his life into pretty good order during this second half of the story. Of course, viewers already know this is only the calm before the storm of the climax.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): After having the misfit Dragon Army dumped on him at the midpoint, Ender spends the second half of the second act rising to the challenge. He knows he's been put at an unfair disadvantage, and he knows Graff and the other instructors are deliberately testing him by pitting him against other, more powerful students. But instead of caving to the pressure, Ender squares his shoulders and rises to the challenge. Thanks to his refusal to stand down, Dragon Army becomes the best army in Battle School.

Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir (2004): After finally finding himself in a position to track down the Acheron, Captain Jack Aubrey's series of actions in the second half of the second act take him down a surprising road, when his best friend, surgeon and spy Stephen Maturin, is accidentally shot. For the first time in the film, Jack chooses to break free of his obsessive pursuit of the Acheron, in order to take Stephen to dry land where he can be operated on in order to save his life.

Takeaway value

The second half of the second act offers more possibilities for variation than perhaps any other segment of structure in the story (and that's saying a lot!). Let's reexamine the possibilities, so we can then apply them to our own stories.

1. The second half of the second act begins with the dramatic turning point at the 50% mark.

2. The midpoint begins a series of actions on the main character's part. Even though he's likely still reacting in a sense, he's no longer reacting from a place of ignorance. He's no longer entirely on the defensive without the ability to attack in his own right.

3. This segment is often a place of revelation for the main character. He sees things-himself as much as the antagonist-more clearly after the midpoint.

4. His actions can be as much a period of inner revelations as actual aggression against the antagonist. Sometimes his attack on the antagonist is actually nothing more than a complete and deliberate ignoring of the antagonist.

5. Some of his problems will be resolved in this section, but the major problems-both inner and outer-will remain to be solved during the climax. Often, the problems that are solved in this section only serve to exacerbate or bring clearer focus to the true underlying conflicts.

The second half of the second act begins your race to the climax. This is your last chance to get everything set up for the excitement of the climax. Pay particular attention to your character's inner transformation and his relationships with other key characters. After that, buckle your seat belt, because here comes the climax!

Stay tuned: Next week we'll talk about the Third Act.

Tell me your opinion: Does your character start to take action after the midpoint?
Related Posts: The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 3: The First Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 4: The First Plot Point The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 5: The Inciting Event and the Key Event The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 6: The First Half of the Second Act The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 7: The Midpoint The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 1: Why Should Authors Care? Click the "Play" button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in iTunes).
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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 8: The Second Half of the Second Act - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Now that we've passed the midpoint, things are starting to heat up in our story. The second half of the second act is where your plot really starts popping. Your main character caps the dramatic event at the midpoint with his decision to stop reacting and start acting.

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Emotionally difficult but the truth is revealed

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 7: The Midpoint - Helping Writers Become Authors

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The midpoint is what caps the story structure in the first half of the book and sets up the chain of actions that will lead the characters into the climax.

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Every segment of a story offers its own challenges, but perhaps none leaves writers more bewildered than the second act. Beginnings and endings are tough to get right, but at least we have a checklist of things to accomplish. The middle of the story, on the other hand, is a yawning blank. We feel like we're entirely on our own as we try to move our characters toward where they need to be for the ending to work. Fortunately, if we pay attention to solid story structure, we'll find that the middle of the story has a checklist all its own.

Because the second act will be the largest part of your story, comprising roughly 50%, I will be breaking it down into three segments, which will we'll discuss in three posts. Today, let's take a look at the first half of the second act, which will span the distance from your first major plot point at the 25% mark to your mid-point at the 50% mark. This first half of the second act is where your characters find the time and space to react to the first major plot point. Remember how we talked about the first major plot point being definitive because it forces the character into irreversible reaction? That reaction, which will lead to another reaction and another and another, launches your second act.

What is the first half of the second act?

That first major plot point is going to hit your character hard. His life is no longer running on the same smooth path it always has, and he has to do something about it. If we look long and hard at the first major turning point in a book, we realize that it's actually the character's reaction to the event that changes everything and creates our story. Even when the first major plot point incorporates a life-altering tragedy (such as the murder of Benjamin Martin's second son and the burning of his plantation in The Patriot), the characters could conceivably go on more or less as they had before. It's their reaction (Martin's becoming the "ghostly" militia leader who terrorizes the British army) that allows the chain of events to continue-and create a story.

For next quarter of the book, until the mid-point, your protagonist is going to be reacting to the events of the first plot point. He's taking action, but all his actions are a response (in one form or another) to what's happened to him. He's trying to regain his balance, trying to figure out where his life is supposed to go next. In my medieval novel Behold the Dawn, the characters spend this part of the book on the run from the bishop who wants them dead. In Brent Weeks's The Way of Shadows, the protagonist spends years reacting to the orders of his master. In Ben-Hur, the title character is forced into a reactionary role, as a galley slave, after he's unjustly captured and sentenced in the first major plot point.

Where does the first half of the second act belong?

The first half of the second act will begin immediately after the first major plot point. Your character will act out in response to the events of the plot point in such a way that he can never go back to the way things were. The antagonistic force responds, and again the character is forced to react. The cycle repeats itself as many times and with as many variations as necessary until the story reaches the mid-point.

Examples from film and literature

Once again, let's look to the masters to discover how the first half of the second act should be constructed to best complicate the plot, progress the character's arc, and keep readers reading.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): After Bingley dumps Jane and he, his sister, and Darcy leave Netherfield Park (the first major plot point), Lizzy and her sisters have no choice but to react. Jane goes to London to visit her aunt and to try discover why Bingley left. Lizzy, in the absence of Mr. Wickham, pays an extended visit to her friend Charlotte (the new Mrs. Collins). While there, she again meets Mr. Darcy and is forced to react to his attentions to her.

It's a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): George's life could have progressed exactly as he wanted it to, even after the inciting event in which his father dies of a stroke. But when he reacts to Mr. Potter's attempts to close down the Building & Loan by agreeing to stay in Bedford Falls and take his father's place, his life is forever changed. For the next quarter of the movie, we find George adjusting to life in Bedford Falls. When his brother Harry (who was supposed to take George's place in the Building & Loan) gets married and takes another job, George is again forced to react. He marries, saves the Building & Loan during the Great Crash, and opens up Bailey Park-all reactions that build upon his initial decision
to protect the Building & Loan.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): After joining Bonzo's Salamander Army, Ender has to struggle to stay afloat in Battle School. He learns to fight-and win-in the zero-grav war games. He makes friends and enemies and sets in motion the events that will eventually cause the standoff between him and Bonzo. Everything he does in the first half of the second act is a reaction to his presence in Battle School, in general, and in Salamander Army, in particular.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir (2004): Captain Jack Aubrey and his crew spend the first half of the second act reacting to their second sighting of the Acheron. After turning the tables on the enemy ship, Jack subsequently loses her during a tragic accident at Cape Horn and is forced to come up with new plans and new ways of managing his crew until they reach the Galapagos Islands-and the mid-point.

Takeaway value

Now that we've got a good idea of what should occur during the first half of the second act and now that we've studied how excellent stories put this segment to work, what can glean for our own stories?

1. The characters should react promptly and strongly to the events of the first major plot point.

2. Since their lives and plans have been turned upside down (or at least significantly altered), they have to find new ways of dealing with the world in general and the main antagonistic force in particular.

3. Their reactions should be deep and varied enough to fill the next quarter of the story.

4. Their reactions must be dominos, moving the plot forward and deepening the weave of scenes, subplots, and themes.

5. Usually, this is the time in which the character will gain the skills or items necessary for his final battle in the third act.

The first half of the second act is where you deepen your development of character and your foreshadowing of important elements. Even in fast-paced action stories, this will be the slowest and most thoughtful portion of your story as you finish building the foundation your characters will stand on during the climax.

Stay tuned: Next week, we'll talk about the Midpoint.

Tell me your opinion: Do you struggle with the middle of your books?

Related Posts: The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 1: Why Should Authors Care?
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 3: The First Act
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 4: The First Plot Point
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 5: The Inciting Event and the Key Event

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 6: The First Half of the Second Act - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Every segment of a story offers its own challenges, but perhaps none leaves writers more bewildered than the second act. Beginnings and endings are tough to get right, but at least we have a checklist of things to accomplish. The middle of the story, on the other hand, is a yawning blank.

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Stories are a series of scenes. Some of those scenes are expected, some of them are even purposefully repetitious for the sake of emphasis. But some scenes change everything. These game changers are the plot points. They introduce significant elements and events that alter the subsequent course of the story. Your story can have any number of plot points, some relatively minor, some shockingly huge. Plot points are what keep your story moving forward. They mix things up, keep the conflict fresh, and propel your character far away from any possibility of stagnancy.

The first major plot point (which occurs around the 25% mark in your story) is a bit of a misnomer, since your story may have any number of plot points within the first quarter of the story. For example, in the film Changeling, we have several cataclysmic plot points (including the kidnapping of the heroine's son, the return of the wrong boy, and the police department's insistence that she accept the child anyway) before her decision, at the quarter mark, to fight back against the corrupt police department. Following, we'll take a look at what differentiates the 25%-mark plot point from any that preceded it.

What is the first plot point?

The first major plot point changes everything. This is the point of no return for your characters. Often, this plot point will be the inciting event; if not, it will be the key event (next week, we'll talk about the differences between these two events). The first plot point is the moment when the setup ends, and your character crosses his personal Rubicon. But this isn't just an event that happens to him (such as the kidnapping of the heroine's son in Changeling). This is an event that either incorporates or is directly followed by the character's reacting in a strong and irrevocable way (for example, Changeling 's heroine's decision to fight back against the police). We'll be discussing the reaction in more detail in a future post.

Where does the first plot point belong?

The first plot point marks the finish of the first act, and the character's reaction to it marks the beginning of the second. In a sense, the first plot point is the climax of the first act, and, as such, it should be placed approximately around the 20-25% mark. Generally, the exact placement of plot points in a novel allows more flexibility than what we find in a film. If you pay attention while watching a movie, you can time the major plot points down to the minute (which makes film an especially valuable medium for studying structure, since we can view the entire story structure in one sitting and identify the plot points with precision by dividing the total running time into fourths).

So what's the reason for this seemingly arbitrary placement of the first plot point? Why the 25% mark and not the 10% or 40%? Simply, because this is the point at which a reader's innately human story sense tells him something big is supposed to happen. If you've ever watched or read a poorly plotted story that skipped or postponed the first plot point, you probably instinctively sensed the story was dragging. Likely, you grew bored and got up to do something else without finishing the story. No first plot point means no turning point means the first act drags on too long-or, conversely, if the first plot point takes place too early, the second act drags on.

Examples from film and literature

As one of the most dynamic moments in any story, the first plot point is both one of easiest to spot and one of the most exciting to study. So let's take a peek at what happens roundabout the 25% mark in our four example stories.

Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): After the ball at Netherfield Park, Darcy and Caroline Bingley convince Bingley to return to London and forget all about his growing affection for Jane. Much has happened in the story up to this point. Lydia and Kitty have become enamored of the militia. Wickham has turned Lizzy against Darcy. Jane and Lizzy have stayed over at Netherfield during Jane's convalescence. And Mr. Collins has proposed to Lizzy. But everything changes at the 25% mark when Darcy and the Bingleys leave. This is the event that breaks Jane's heart and infuriates Lizzy against Darcy. Character motivations and reactions aside, it also changes the landscape of the story, since several prominent characters are no longer in the neighborhood for the Bennets to interact with as they did throughout the first quarter of the book.

It's a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): Throughout the first quarter of the story, George Bailey's plans for his life have progressed uninterrupted. Despite his various misadventures in Bedford Falls, he's on the fast track to a European vacation and a college education. Then the first plot point hits, and his life is forever changed. When his father dies of a stroke, George's plans are dashed. As in Pride & Prejudice, the standards that have already been established in the story are dramatically altered. This is no longer a story about a carefree young man freewheeling around town. From here on out, this is a story about a man forced to take responsibility by working at the Bailey Brothers' Building & Loan.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): The quarter mark of Ender's Game finds Ender graduating from his launch group to Salamander Army after a victorious confrontation with the bully Bernard. Aside from Ender's personal assertion of brains, tenacity, and leadership qualities, with which he claims his spot at Battle School and makes it clear to himself, the other children, and the watching instructors that he will do whatever he has to do to survive, this first major plot point also changes the game (no pun intended!) by once again moving Ender to new surroundings. As a member of Salamander Army, he's dropped into a new place, a new social stratum, and a new set of challenges.

Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter Weir (2004): After refitting the Surprise and heading back out to sea to look for their opponent, the French privateer Acheron, Captain Jack Aubrey is confident everything will go according to his plans. But he (and the viewers) are thrown for a loop by the first major plot point. Instead of the Surprise finding the Acheron, the captain abruptly wakes to discover the enemy bearing down on his much smaller ship. Suddenly, he's not only not assured of an easy victory-or any victory at all, for that matter-he and his crew are also in dire danger of being captured. They scramble to escape, and the game of cat-and-mouse that will comprise the rest of the film begins in earnest.

Takeaway value

So what do the masterful plot points in these books and films teach us?

1. The first major plot point occurs almost on the dot at the 25% mark ( Pride & Prejudice is the only one that was late and even then it was only by a few pages).

2. The first plot point is an event that changes everything and becomes a personal turning point for the main character.

3. The first major plot point almost always changes the story so irrevocably that even the character's surroundings (either the physical setting or the cast of supporting characters) alters.

4. The first major plot point is something to which the main character must be able to react strongly and irretrievably.

The first major plot point is one of the most exciting moments in any story. Milk yours for all it's worth! Choose a strong, cataclysmic event to which your character has no choice but to react with everything he's got. Hit readers so hard at the end of the first act that they won't even think about closing the book.

Stay tuned: Next week, we'll talk about the Inciting Event and the Key Event.

Tell me your opinion: What happens at your first major plot point?

Related Posts: The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 1: Why Should Authors Care?
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 3: The First Act

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 4: The First Plot Point - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Stories are a series of scenes. Some of those scenes are expected, some of them are even purposefully repetitious for the sake of emphasis. But some scenes change everything. These game changers are the plot points. They introduce significant elements and events that alter the subsequent course of the story.

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FIRST ACT

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Once you've hooked the reader, your next task is to put your early chapters to work introducing your characters, settings, and stakes. The first 20-25% of the book comprises your setup. At first glance, this can seem like a tremendous chunk of story to devote to introductions, but if you expect readers to stick with you throughout the story, you first have to give them a reason to care. And this important stretch of the story is where you accomplish just that. Mere curiosity can only carry a reader so far. Once you've hooked that sense of curiosity, you then have to deepen the pull by creating an emotional connection between your readers and your characters.

These "introductions" are made up of far more than just the actual moment of introducing the characters and settings or explaining the stakes. The introductions themselves probably won't take more than few scenes. After the introduction is when your task of exploring character and establishing the stakes really begins.

What are character/setting/stakes introductions?

The first quarter of the book (the first act) is the place to compile all the necessary components of your story. Anton Chekhov's famous advice that "if in the first act you have hung a pistol on the wall, then in the following one it should be fired" is just as important in reverse: If you're going to have a character fire a gun later in the book, that gun should be introduced in the first act. The story you create in the following acts can only be assembled from the parts you've shown the reader in this first act. That's your first duty in this section.

Your second duty is to allow readers the opportunity to learn about your characters. Who are these people? What is the essence of their personalities? What are their core beliefs (even more particularly, what are the beliefs that will be challenged or strengthened throughout the book)? If you can introduce a character in a "characteristic moment," you'll be able to immediately show readers who this person is. From there, the plot builds as you deepen the stakes and set up the conflict that will come to a head in the key and inciting events.

Where do the introductions belong?

The introductions should ideally begin in the opening chapter. Depending on the number of characters or the complexity of your setting, you will probably want to space the introductions throughout several early scenes. The most important thing to keep in mind is the necessity of giving characters enough space in these early chapters so you can focus on developing them. This does not mean the plot needs to be slow or meandering. Every scene must be pertinent to the plot; every scene must be a domino moving the characters forward to the point of no return. But don't cram so much action into these early scenes that you waste your opportunity to flesh out the characters before the bullets really start flying later on.

Examples from film and literature

Let's examine how the authors and directors of our four exemplary stories took advantage of their first act.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): Austen introduces characters, settings, and stakes, all three, in the very first scene. Ten pages in, we've been introduced to all the major characters, given to understand the setting, and shown what's at stake for the Bennett daughters if one of them can't ensnare the unwitting Mr. Bingley. By the time we reach the first major plot point, we've gotten to know the sisters. The beauty and sweetness that will eventually win Jane a husband, the independence and strong opinions with which Lizzy drives the conflict, and the foreboding irresponsibility of the youngest daughter Lydia are all in place and ready for use later in the story. We've also been introduced to the Bingleys, Darcy, and Wickham. Before the first act is over, Bingley is in love with Jane, and Lizzy has made up her mind to dislike Darcy-the two factors that will drive the entirety of the remaining story.

It's a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): The first quarter of this classic movie is entirely, blatantly, and beautifully about character development. Under the guise of explaining George Bailey to novice angel Clarence, the head honcho angels show us all the prominent moments in George Bailey's young life. We see him as a child, saving his little brother's life, losing the hearing in one ear, and preventing old Mr. Gower from accidentally poisoning a customer. We get a glimpse of him as a young man, planning his escape from "crummy" Bedford Falls, even as he begins to fall for the lovely Mary Hatch. By the time the inciting event strikes, we know George Bailey inside out. We've been introduced to Bedford Falls and its colorful array of denizens. And we've learned of the stakes from the mouth of George's father, who explains the importance of the Bailey Building & Loan in giving the people a haven from evil Old Man Potter.

Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): Card uses his first act to establish his setting, the orbital Battle School, where brilliant young children are sent to train to stave off an alien invasion. We learn about this strange and brutal place through the eyes of the main character, Ender Wiggin, who is a new arrival, and, in so doing, we learn about Ender as well. We see his determination, his kindness, but also his underlying bedrock of ruthlessness-which will eventually become the element around which the entire plot must turn. Almost all of the important supporting characters are introduced, and readers are immediately shown what is a stake, not only for the human race, but also for Ender, if he does not overcome the handicap of his extreme youth in order to flourish in this place.

Master and Commander: The Far Side of the World: directed by Peter Weir (2004): After the initial onslaught of the furious opening battle, Weir slows his movie down considerably to allow viewers to get to know the main characters-the captain and the surgeon-and the several dozen minor characters, featured from among the crew members. The opening battle already showed us the stakes were high, but the characters' reactions to it, particularly the captain's intense desire to refit the ship and reengage the enemy, help us understand why they're fighting and what will happen if they fail. As the crew works to repair the ship's battle damage, we're also given an inside view of the ship itself, which will play such an irreplaceable role throughout the rest of the story.

Takeaway value

So what can we learn from these masterful first acts?

1. If the hook has done its job, you can safely slow down the action enough to thoughtfully introduce and deepen your characters.

2. The salient personality points, motivations, and beliefs of the characters should all be developed.

3. The pertinent points of the setting must be fleshed out, so you don't have to slow down in the second act to explain things. Readers should already be oriented by the first plot point.

4. The very fact that readers are developing a bond with the characters raises the stakes. Drive the point home by making clear what the characters (and thus the readers) stand to lose in the coming conflict.

5. Make certain every scene matters. Each scene must be a domino that knocks into the next domino/scene, building inexorably to the first plot point.

The first quarter of the book builds the foundation of your entire story. A weak foundation will topple even the most brilliant of conflicts and climaxes. Do your groundwork, set up all your necessary playing pieces, and grip readers with an undeniable urge to find out what happens to your marvelous characters.

Stay tuned: Next week, we talk about the First Plot Point.

Tell me your opinion: Do you take the time to introduce your characters, settings, and stakes in your first act?

Related Posts: The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 1: Why Should Authors Care?
The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook

http://www.podtrac.com/pts/redirect.mp3/kmweiland.com/podcast/structure-3.mp3
Click the "Play" button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in iTunes).

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 3: The First Act - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Once you've hooked the reader, your next task is to put your early chapters to work introducing your characters, settings, and stakes. The first 20-25% of the book comprises your setup. At first glance, this can seem like a tremendous chunk of story to devote to introductions, but if you expect readers to stick with you throughout the story, you first have to give them a reason to care.

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Catch attention. Introduce problem, character and setting

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The Secrets of Story Structure, Pt. 2: The Hook - Helping Writers Become Authors

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Readers aren’t about to surrender themselves to the lure of your story structure unless you’ve presented them with an irresistible hook.