
I want to thank everyone for reading my Organic Architecture Series! I realize this was a long series with lots of posts. The following are the links to all the different articles. Feel free to bookmark this page for easy reference!
Happy plotting, structuring, and designing, everyone!
Organic Architecture Series:
Classic Design and Arch Plot:
Alternative Plots:
Alternative Structures:
Designing Principle:
Full Bibliography for this Series:
I want to thank everyone for reading my Organic Architecture Series! I realize this was a long series with lots of posts. The following are the links to all the different articles. Feel free to bookmark this page for easy reference!
Happy plotting, structuring, and designing, everyone!
Organic Architecture Series:
Classic Design and Arch Plot:
Alternative Plots:
Alternative Structures:
Designing Principle:
Full Bibliography for this Series:
In my last post we began our survey of alternative story structures. That post covered non-linear structure, episodic structure with an arc, wheel structure, and meandering structure.
Today we’ll continue to push past the traditional story structure idea of a mountain or triangle shape to consider branching structure, spiral structure, multiple POV structure, parallell structure, and cumulative structure!
Again, you could apply these structural ideas to a traditional mountain shape, or let them create their own rhythm and energy.
This structure consists of “a system of paths that extend from a few central points by splitting and adding smaller and smaller parts … Each branch usually represents a complete society in detail or a detailed stage of the same society that the hero explores” (Truby). This is a popular structure used in non-fiction books.
Spiral structure “is a path that circles inward to the center…[wherein] a character keeps returning to a single event or memory and explores it at progressively deeper levels” (Truby).
This structure has multiple protagonists and provides the point-of-view (POV) of multiple characters. Variations include one character telling his/her whole story and then another character telling a different version of the story. Another popular style is alternating viewpoints (chapter-by-chapter) as the story progresses. In film, multiple POV can sometimes be accompanied by a split-screen technique.
(Also known as: Parallel Substitution Structure, Multiple Personality Structure)
This structure has dual or multiple storylines that mirror and reflect each other. Stories can include different protagonists or a single protagonist in different “lives.” Storylines often exist within separate time frames, dimensions, or locations. In the instance of parallel substitution structure, actual events in a protagonist’s storyline are substituted with thematic stories such as fables, religious stories, myth, or a parallel thematic scene. The reader is meant to make the thematic and causal connections through the substitution. In the case of multiple personality structure, “multiple protagonists are the same person, or different versions of the same person” (Berg). Multiple personality structure can also be considered a variant of multiple POV or branching structure.
This structure is most often used in picture books and songs. It builds a story through a “repetitive pattern or text structure: each page repeats the text from the previous page, adding a new line/plot element. As the details pile up, the tale builds to a climax” (Carver).
Do you know of any other alternative story structures? I’d love to hear all about them!
Up next: Designing principals and how to make decisions on what the best plot type and story structure is best for your project!
In my last post we began our survey of alternative story structures. That post covered non-linear structure, episodic structure with an arc, wheel structure, and meandering structure.
Today we’ll continue to push past the traditional story structure idea of a mountain or triangle shape to consider branching structure, spiral structure, multiple POV structure, parallell structure, and cumulative structure!
Again, you could apply these structural ideas to a traditional mountain shape, or let them create their own rhythm and energy.
This structure consists of “a system of paths that extend from a few central points by splitting and adding smaller and smaller parts … Each branch usually represents a complete society in detail or a detailed stage of the same society that the hero explores” (Truby). This is a popular structure used in non-fiction books.
Spiral structure “is a path that circles inward to the center…[wherein] a character keeps returning to a single event or memory and explores it at progressively deeper levels” (Truby).
This structure has multiple protagonists and provides the point-of-view (POV) of multiple characters. Variations include one character telling his/her whole story and then another character telling a different version of the story. Another popular style is alternating viewpoints (chapter-by-chapter) as the story progresses. In film, multiple POV can sometimes be accompanied by a split-screen technique.
(Also known as: Parallel Substitution Structure, Multiple Personality Structure)
This structure has dual or multiple storylines that mirror and reflect each other. Stories can include different protagonists or a single protagonist in different “lives.” Storylines often exist within separate time frames, dimensions, or locations. In the instance of parallel substitution structure, actual events in a protagonist’s storyline are substituted with thematic stories such as fables, religious stories, myth, or a parallel thematic scene. The reader is meant to make the thematic and causal connections through the substitution. In the case of multiple personality structure, “multiple protagonists are the same person, or different versions of the same person” (Berg). Multiple personality structure can also be considered a variant of multiple POV or branching structure.
This structure is most often used in picture books and songs. It builds a story through a “repetitive pattern or text structure: each page repeats the text from the previous page, adding a new line/plot element. As the details pile up, the tale builds to a climax” (Carver).
Do you know of any other alternative story structures? I’d love to hear all about them!
Up next: Designing principals and how to make decisions on what the best plot type and story structure is best for your project!
I’ve spent a lot of time in this organic architecture series talking about plot plot plot plot. (If you’ve missed those post please check out: arch plot, alternative plots, and plot genres). But it’s time to switch gears and think about organization, rhythm, and energy.
That’s right let’s talk structure! (Which, if you don’t remember I’m obsessed with. Yes, I said obsessed).
Traditionally, we’re used to thinking about structure as a mountain or triangle with an escalating tension. But I want to break out of the triangle/mountain box and think about structure in a new way. The following ideas can be applied to a mountain structure (if you want), or they can provide a whole new guideline for rhythm and tension!
Alternative structures all be discussing include:
Let’s dig right in!
(Also known as: Backwards Structure, Scrambled Sequence Structure)
Non-linear structure tells events out of linear order for dramatic impact. The juxtaposition of out-of-order scenes and sequences can help the reader to create plot connections, expand character depth, or elaborate on theme. Backwards structures draw attention to causal connections, like forward-moving linear structures, but become causal mysteries, where the narrative fuel is the search for the first cause of known effects (Berg). Scrambled-sequence structures don’t “do away with the cause-and-effect chain, [they] merely suspend it for a time, eventually to be ordered by the competent spectator” (Berg). Additionally, a story with a flashback can be considered part of a non-linear structure. However, some define flashbacks as a character thinking back on an event, and thus exist within a traditional linear-story timeline.
(Also known as: Television Structure, Book Series Structure)
“Episodic structure is a series of chapters or stories linked together by the same character place or theme, but also held apart by their own goals, plots, or purpose” (Schmidt). A larger multiple book or episode character-arc or plot-goal often ties together a series, as done in television and comic books.
(Also known as: The Short Story Cycle, Hub and Spoke Structure)
In wheel structure, scenes, stories, vignettes, and poems, all revolve around a thematic center where the “hub [is] a compelling emotional event, and the narration refer[s] to this event like the spokes.” (Campbell). Additionally, “the rim of the wheel represents recurrent elements in a cycle … [and] as these elements repeat themselves, turn in on themselves, and recur, the whole wheel moves forward” (Kalmar). Many novels in verse or vignettes use this structure.
(Also known as: River Structure, Winding Path Structure)
Meandering structure is a “story that follows a winding path without apparent direction” (Truby). The hero may or may not have a desire. If the hero has a desire it is not intense, and “he covers a great deal of territory in a haphazard way; and he encounters a number of characters from different levels of society” (Truby).
In my next post we’ll take a look at:
I’ve spent a lot of time in this organic architecture series talking about plot plot plot plot. (If you’ve missed those post please check out: arch plot, alternative plots, and plot genres). But it’s time to switch gears and think about organization, rhythm, and energy.
That’s right let’s talk structure! (Which, if you don’t remember I’m obsessed with. Yes, I said obsessed).
Traditionally, we’re used to thinking about structure as a mountain or triangle with an escalating tension. But I want to break out of the triangle/mountain box and think about structure in a new way. The following ideas can be applied to a mountain structure (if you want), or they can provide a whole new guideline for rhythm and tension!
Alternative structures all be discussing include:
Let’s dig right in!
(Also known as: Backwards Structure, Scrambled Sequence Structure)
Non-linear structure tells events out of linear order for dramatic impact. The juxtaposition of out-of-order scenes and sequences can help the reader to create plot connections, expand character depth, or elaborate on theme. Backwards structures draw attention to causal connections, like forward-moving linear structures, but become causal mysteries, where the narrative fuel is the search for the first cause of known effects (Berg). Scrambled-sequence structures don’t “do away with the cause-and-effect chain, [they] merely suspend it for a time, eventually to be ordered by the competent spectator” (Berg). Additionally, a story with a flashback can be considered part of a non-linear structure. However, some define flashbacks as a character thinking back on an event, and thus exist within a traditional linear-story timeline.
(Also known as: Television Structure, Book Series Structure)
“Episodic structure is a series of chapters or stories linked together by the same character place or theme, but also held apart by their own goals, plots, or purpose” (Schmidt). A larger multiple book or episode character-arc or plot-goal often ties together a series, as done in television and comic books.
(Also known as: The Short Story Cycle, Hub and Spoke Structure)
In wheel structure, scenes, stories, vignettes, and poems, all revolve around a thematic center where the “hub [is] a compelling emotional event, and the narration refer[s] to this event like the spokes.” (Campbell). Additionally, “the rim of the wheel represents recurrent elements in a cycle … [and] as these elements repeat themselves, turn in on themselves, and recur, the whole wheel moves forward” (Kalmar). Many novels in verse or vignettes use this structure.
(Also known as: River Structure, Winding Path Structure)
Meandering structure is a “story that follows a winding path without apparent direction” (Truby). The hero may or may not have a desire. If the hero has a desire it is not intense, and “he covers a great deal of territory in a haphazard way; and he encounters a number of characters from different levels of society” (Truby).
In my next post we’ll take a look at:
Last week I started off my Organic Architecture series by outlining the eleven major story-beats of classical design. Before I jump into alternative structures and plots I want to make sure we understand arch plot as more than just a template for story. I want to show how this story-frame can be used, and used well.
Today I’m going to breakdown the major beats of classical design using Pixar’s film Toy Story. This film is an excellent example of how arch plot can create a satisfying story experience that moves like a well-oiled machine and every piece has a purpose. Let’s take a look at how the eleven steps outlined in my previous post are put into practice.
ACT ONE:
1) Ordinary World
In the first images of Toy Story we’re introduced to Andy and his favorite toy Sheriff Woody (our protagonist). In the first minutes we establish Woody’s ordinary world, consisting of Andy’s room. At minute four, we get the story hook: the toys come to life. At this point we’re introduced to the major players: Mr. Potato Head, Slinky-dog, Bo-Peep, etc. Relationships are hinted at and we see that Woody is the leader of this clan. The complexity of this world deepens when the first obstacle is introduced, allowing us to see how Woody normally functions in the ordinary world. The obstacle is Andy’s birthday party and a covert toy-style mission to see if there are any new, bigger and brighter, toys to be worried about. This action reveals the emotional core of the film: every toy’s deepest fear is that they will be replaced and Andy will no longer love them. In the first twelve minutes the film has set up the world, how it works, and what’s at stake.
2) The Call to Action
At minute fourteen, Buzz Lightyear shows up on screen. Something new has arrived to disrupt the ordinary world. This is what the hero’s journey calls the call to adventure. In Toy Story the call isn’t an invitation to a quest, but it is a catalyst that disrupts Woody’s status quo. Woody tells himself that this new toy isn’t going to change anything and we enter…
3) The Refusal of the Call
This is the debate section where Woody tries to keep his authority, but is slowly usurped by Buzz.
4) Crossing the First Threshold
Woody’s refusal culminates when his flaws of pride and jealousy cause him to pick a fight with Buzz. Both toys fall out of the car and Andy’s family drives away, leaving Woody and Buzz on the pavement. The two have now become LOST TOYS! This is the moment when Woody and Buzz cross the first threshold and move us into act two. This is the point of no return. Woody and Buzz are no longer in the ordinary world but the special world, which will force them to grow. The energy of the story changes here because the two have a new desire: to get home.
ACT TWO:
5) Tests, Allies, and Enemies
The next seventeen minutes of the film constitutes the fun and games section where our heroes are presented with tests, allies, and enemies. When I went to film school we called this the “trailer section.” It’s where all the gags and jokes used in a film trailer come from. This is the section of the story that fulfills the promise of your premise. Toy Story’s premise is: how do two rival toys find their way home when lost in the real world? Well, they hitch a ride to pizza planet. They get chosen by The Claw and taken home by the evil neighbor Sid. They defend themselves against cannibal toys. Each obstacle gets harder and harder. And it leads us to…
6) The Mid-Point
In the hero’s journey there isn’t actually a mid-point, but in screenwriting it has become very important story beat. It’s where the energy of the film swings up, or swings down. In Toy Story it swings down. Buzz comes upon a TV commercial selling Buzz Lightyear action figures and realizes he is not the Buzz Lightyear, but actually a TOY!
7) Approaching the In-Most Cave
The mid-point also affects Woody and propels the story into the next section. Woody continues to put out fires while Buzz has his existential crisis. This is known as approaching the in-most cave or continued obstacles and intensification.
8) The In-Most Cave
At minute 57, Woody hits rock bottom and reaches the in-most cave or crisis of the story. Both Woody and Buzz are trapped, Woody’s friends have abandoned him, and he can now see that his pride has led him astray.
ACT THREE:
9) The Final Push
Just after the crisis usually comes a change in fate. Sid takes Buzz into the backyard to blow him up and Woody realizes he must save the only friend he has left. This propels us into act three and the final push where Woody devises a rescue plan.
10) Seizes the Sword
Woody enacts his plan in the climax and seizes the sword by saving Buzz’s life!
11) The Return Home
But the return home is still wrought with tension as Woody and Buzz chase down the moving van. Some consider this a second final climax (think horror films where monsters you thought were dead jump out at the last minute). Woody grows by putting his pride aside and works together with Buzz to reunite with Andy. As the film closes Buzz and Woody have returned to the new ordinary world with the wisdom and friendship of their adventure.
This is classic design used well! It creates an emotionally engaging and well-paced story. If you like this story design I highly suggest reading Sheryl Scarborough’s guest post that continues this discussion in regards to three-act structure.
However, despite popular belief, classic design is not the only way to tell a story. My next post will outline the hidden agenda of arch plot and why we need more storytelling options!
Last week I started off my Organic Architecture series by outlining the eleven major story-beats of classical design. Before I jump into alternative structures and plots I want to make sure we understand arch plot as more than just a template for story. I want to show how this story-frame can be used, and used well.
Today I’m going to breakdown the major beats of classical design using Pixar’s film Toy Story. This film is an excellent example of how arch plot can create a satisfying story experience that moves like a well-oiled machine and every piece has a purpose. Let’s take a look at how the eleven steps outlined in my previous post are put into practice.
ACT ONE:
1) Ordinary World
In the first images of Toy Story we’re introduced to Andy and his favorite toy Sheriff Woody (our protagonist). In the first minutes we establish Woody’s ordinary world, consisting of Andy’s room. At minute four, we get the story hook: the toys come to life. At this point we’re introduced to the major players: Mr. Potato Head, Slinky-dog, Bo-Peep, etc. Relationships are hinted at and we see that Woody is the leader of this clan. The complexity of this world deepens when the first obstacle is introduced, allowing us to see how Woody normally functions in the ordinary world. The obstacle is Andy’s birthday party and a covert toy-style mission to see if there are any new, bigger and brighter, toys to be worried about. This action reveals the emotional core of the film: every toy’s deepest fear is that they will be replaced and Andy will no longer love them. In the first twelve minutes the film has set up the world, how it works, and what’s at stake.
2) The Call to Action
At minute fourteen, Buzz Lightyear shows up on screen. Something new has arrived to disrupt the ordinary world. This is what the hero’s journey calls the call to adventure. In Toy Story the call isn’t an invitation to a quest, but it is a catalyst that disrupts Woody’s status quo. Woody tells himself that this new toy isn’t going to change anything and we enter…
3) The Refusal of the Call
This is the debate section where Woody tries to keep his authority, but is slowly usurped by Buzz.
4) Crossing the First Threshold
Woody’s refusal culminates when his flaws of pride and jealousy cause him to pick a fight with Buzz. Both toys fall out of the car and Andy’s family drives away, leaving Woody and Buzz on the pavement. The two have now become LOST TOYS! This is the moment when Woody and Buzz cross the first threshold and move us into act two. This is the point of no return. Woody and Buzz are no longer in the ordinary world but the special world, which will force them to grow. The energy of the story changes here because the two have a new desire: to get home.
ACT TWO:
5) Tests, Allies, and Enemies
The next seventeen minutes of the film constitutes the fun and games section where our heroes are presented with tests, allies, and enemies. When I went to film school we called this the “trailer section.” It’s where all the gags and jokes used in a film trailer come from. This is the section of the story that fulfills the promise of your premise. Toy Story’s premise is: how do two rival toys find their way home when lost in the real world? Well, they hitch a ride to pizza planet. They get chosen by The Claw and taken home by the evil neighbor Sid. They defend themselves against cannibal toys. Each obstacle gets harder and harder. And it leads us to…
6) The Mid-Point
In the hero’s journey there isn’t actually a mid-point, but in screenwriting it has become very important story beat. It’s where the energy of the film swings up, or swings down. In Toy Story it swings down. Buzz comes upon a TV commercial selling Buzz Lightyear action figures and realizes he is not the Buzz Lightyear, but actually a TOY!
7) Approaching the In-Most Cave
The mid-point also affects Woody and propels the story into the next section. Woody continues to put out fires while Buzz has his existential crisis. This is known as approaching the in-most cave or continued obstacles and intensification.
8) The In-Most Cave
At minute 57, Woody hits rock bottom and reaches the in-most cave or crisis of the story. Both Woody and Buzz are trapped, Woody’s friends have abandoned him, and he can now see that his pride has led him astray.
ACT THREE:
9) The Final Push
Just after the crisis usually comes a change in fate. Sid takes Buzz into the backyard to blow him up and Woody realizes he must save the only friend he has left. This propels us into act three and the final push where Woody devises a rescue plan.
10) Seizes the Sword
Woody enacts his plan in the climax and seizes the sword by saving Buzz’s life!
11) The Return Home
But the return home is still wrought with tension as Woody and Buzz chase down the moving van. Some consider this a second final climax (think horror films where monsters you thought were dead jump out at the last minute). Woody grows by putting his pride aside and works together with Buzz to reunite with Andy. As the film closes Buzz and Woody have returned to the new ordinary world with the wisdom and friendship of their adventure.
This is classic design used well! It creates an emotionally engaging and well-paced story. If you like this story design I highly suggest reading Sheryl Scarborough’s guest post that continues this discussion in regards to three-act structure.
However, despite popular belief, classic design is not the only way to tell a story. My next post will outline the hidden agenda of arch plot and why we need more storytelling options!
As an introduction to my series on Organic Architecture, I thought I’d start out with the ol’ granddaddy of plot structures: Arch Plot. You probably already know all about this plot structure, but to make sure we’re all on the same page, I wanted to do a quick overview.
Arch plot has lots of names. In your time as a writer, you’ve probably run into arch plot under one of these titles:
Arch plot is a goal-oriented plot where, “for better or worse, an event throws a character’s life out of balance, arousing in him the conscious and/or unconscious desire for that which he feels will restore balance, launching him on a Quest for his Object of Desire against forces of antagonism (inner, personal, extra-personal). He may or may not achieve it” (McKee, 196). Film examples of arch plot include: Toy Story, The Godfather, Back to the Future, Star Wars, Etc. (Most American Hollywood films use arch plot). Book examples of arch plot include: Harry Potter (Rowling), Hunger Games (Collins), Speak (Anderson), Pride & Prejudice (Austen), Hamlet (Shakespeare), The Odyssey (Homer), etc.
A story that uses classic design has eleven basic story sections. Depending on which books you read these story beats all have different titles. I’ve culled the information below from a variety of different sources, each of whom give arch plot design their own title (i.e. classic plot, the hero’s journey, etc.), but at its core they’re all talking about the same design. For the major sequences and beats, the header titles use Joseph Campbell and Christopher Vogler’s Hero’s Journey terminology, and under that you’ll see a list of the same beat termed differently by others. Thus, what Campbell calls the Call to Action, McKee calls the Inciting Incident, and Blake Snyder calls The Catalyst.
THE ELEVEN STORY BEATS OF ARCH PLOT:
ACT ONE
The Ordinary World: The hero’s life is established in his ordinary world.
This story beat is also known as:
Call to Adventure: Something changes in the hero’s life to cause him to take action.
This story beat is also known as:
Refusal of the Call: The hero refuses to take action hoping his life with go back to normal. Which it will not.
Also known as:
Crossing the First Threshold: The hero is pushed to a point of no return where he must answer the call and begin his journey.
Also known as:
ACT TWO
Tests, Allies, and Enemies: The journey through the special world is full of tests and obstacles that challenge the hero emotionally and/or physically.
Also known as:
Mid-Point: The energy of the story shifts dramatically. New information is discovered (for positive or negative) that commits the hero to his journey.
Also known as:
Approaching Inmost Cave: The hero gets closer to reaching his goal and must prepare for the upcoming battle (emotional or physical).
Also known as:
Inmost Cave: The hero hits rock bottom. He fails miserably and must come to face his deepest fear. This causes self-revelation.
Also known as:
ACT THREE
Final Push: The hero makes a new plan to achieve his goal.
Also known as:
Seizing the Sword: The hero faces his foe in a final climactic battle. The information learned during the crisis is essential to beating this foe.
Also known as:
Return with the Elixir: The hero returns home with the fruits of his adventure. He begins his life as a changed person, now living in the “new ordinary world”.
Also known as:
“I took a master class with Billy Wilder once and he said that in the first act of a story you put your character up in a tree and the second act you set the tree on fire and then in the third you get him down.” – Gary Kurtz (Film Producer)
As an introduction to my series on Organic Architecture, I thought I’d start out with the ol’ granddaddy of plot structures: Arch Plot. You probably already know all about this plot structure, but to make sure we’re all on the same page, I wanted to do a quick overview.
Arch plot has lots of names. In your time as a writer, you’ve probably run into arch plot under one of these titles:
Arch plot is a goal-oriented plot where, “for better or worse, an event throws a character’s life out of balance, arousing in him the conscious and/or unconscious desire for that which he feels will restore balance, launching him on a Quest for his Object of Desire against forces of antagonism (inner, personal, extra-personal). He may or may not achieve it” (McKee, 196). Film examples of arch plot include: Toy Story, The Godfather, Back to the Future, Star Wars, Etc. (Most American Hollywood films use arch plot). Book examples of arch plot include: Harry Potter (Rowling), Hunger Games (Collins), Speak (Anderson), Pride & Prejudice (Austen), Hamlet (Shakespeare), The Odyssey (Homer), etc.
A story that uses classic design has eleven basic story sections. Depending on which books you read these story beats all have different titles. I’ve culled the information below from a variety of different sources, each of whom give arch plot design their own title (i.e. classic plot, the hero’s journey, etc.), but at its core they’re all talking about the same design. For the major sequences and beats, the header titles use Joseph Campbell and Christopher Vogler’s Hero’s Journey terminology, and under that you’ll see a list of the same beat termed differently by others. Thus, what Campbell calls the Call to Action, McKee calls the Inciting Incident, and Blake Snyder calls The Catalyst.
THE ELEVEN STORY BEATS OF ARCH PLOT:
ACT ONE
The Ordinary World: The hero’s life is established in his ordinary world.
This story beat is also known as:
Call to Adventure: Something changes in the hero’s life to cause him to take action.
This story beat is also known as:
Refusal of the Call: The hero refuses to take action hoping his life with go back to normal. Which it will not.
Also known as:
Crossing the First Threshold: The hero is pushed to a point of no return where he must answer the call and begin his journey.
Also known as:
ACT TWO
Tests, Allies, and Enemies: The journey through the special world is full of tests and obstacles that challenge the hero emotionally and/or physically.
Also known as:
Mid-Point: The energy of the story shifts dramatically. New information is discovered (for positive or negative) that commits the hero to his journey.
Also known as:
Approaching Inmost Cave: The hero gets closer to reaching his goal and must prepare for the upcoming battle (emotional or physical).
Also known as:
Inmost Cave: The hero hits rock bottom. He fails miserably and must come to face his deepest fear. This causes self-revelation.
Also known as:
ACT THREE
Final Push: The hero makes a new plan to achieve his goal.
Also known as:
Seizing the Sword: The hero faces his foe in a final climactic battle. The information learned during the crisis is essential to beating this foe.
Also known as:
Return with the Elixir: The hero returns home with the fruits of his adventure. He begins his life as a changed person, now living in the “new ordinary world”.
Also known as:
“I took a master class with Billy Wilder once and he said that in the first act of a story you put your character up in a tree and the second act you set the tree on fire and then in the third you get him down.” – Gary Kurtz (Film Producer)
When it comes to maintaining continuity of plot details in a series, it can be helpful to create a scene chart or a storyboard for each story as well as for the overall series itself.
Some novelists use index cards or Post-it notes to build a storyboard, because they allow for manipulation of the sequence of events in quick and immediately visible ways – but for tracking the many elements of a series over several books, a spreadsheet may be a better choice.
Whichever method you choose, the elements to consider keeping track of include:
The last item is particularly important when it comes to avoiding red herrings and tying up loose ends. Make note of any questions, puzzles or mysteries that come up in the course of a chapter so that you can track when, where and how they get resolved.
Of course tracking plot details for continuity is different than crafting a plot in the first place – but keeping a record of the myriad details can be helpful when it comes to plot development and the editing/revision process. On the Children’s Book Hub, we have spreadsheets for both crafting plot and tracking the details, but you can create your own by copying and pasting the above elements into headings on a spreadsheet.
Next up, continuity of voice…
Be sure to read the first six parts of this essay:
If story structure is a form of organization for a story that may or may not have a plot, what is plot structure? It’s important to note that plot structure is a type of story structure, but the two terms are not interchangeable. The most common story shape for plot structure is the Fichtean Curve (see figure 4). Talked about at length in Gardner’s book The Art of Fiction, this plot structure reflects the goal-oriented plot. In essence, the character has a goal and follows a series of three or more obstacles of increasing intensity in order to achieve that goal. The protagonist reaches an ultimate conflict called the climax and then proceeds to a resolution. This common story shape is often called the Aristotelian Story Shape. However, this may be a falsehood. Aristotle only mentioned that stories should have beginnings, middles, and ends (hence the three act structure). Aristotle had very little to say about plot structure according to author M.T. Anderson:
Structurally in terms of abstract story shape, Aristotle doesn’t really give us much of a pointer. He says ‘for every tragedy there is a complication and a denouement. By complication I mean everything from the beginning, as far as the part that immediately precedes the transformation to prosperity or affliction. And by denouement, I mean the start of the transformation to the end.’ So, it is really more of a two part thing, and he gives you no real sense of the proportion those two things should be in. It’s not actually tremendously useful.
Thus the story shape (the Fichtean curve) came later as others developed new theories of plot structure.
Another common shape is Freytag’s Pyramid, (also called Freytag’s Triangle) which many illustrate with close similarity to the Fichtean curve (see figure 5A). However, this is a distortion, and Freytag’s pyramid is actually symmetrical in its triangular form (see figure 5B), and reflects a Germanic idea of story shape (Anderson). Despite the name, this common plot-structure includes the elements of: Exposition, Rising Action, Climax, Falling Action, and a Denouncement. It’s also very popular as Klien points out:
You can see this structure everywhere. It’s Aristotle’s Greek tragedies. It’s all six Jane Austen novels. It’s in all six Harry Potters. It’s mystery novels, romance novels, most every pop song ever written, U2, Stevie Wonder. And the reason for that is, again, catharsis: all the emotion building up through your interest in the characters and their actions, exploding at the climax, leaving you drained but renewed. (Klein, 10
Be sure to read the first four parts of this essay:
Structure – Looking at the Whole:
When it comes to talking about structure we need to be careful of our wording. The terms narrative structure, story structure, and plot structure seem to be intertwined and often used interchangeably, but they aren’t the same (as we’ve learned with our previous exploration of terms). First, let’s look at the idea of structure alone. The Random House Dictionary defines structure as: “a mode of building, construction, or organization; arrangement of parts, or elements.” In addition, it says “structure is a complex system considered from the point of view of the whole rather than of any single part.” Here we have the two key elements of structure. First, it’s a mode of arrangement and organization, and second, it takes into consideration the whole. Chea explains that “in examining structure, we look for patterns, for the shape that the story as a whole possesses. Plot directs us to the story in motion, structure to the story at rest”(2). Meanwhile, film teacher Judy Lewis adds “structure is the term used to describe the organization of the story, including the order in which a story is told.”
When questions of linear vs. non-linear storytelling arise, it’s important to realize that plot is always linear. But non-linear storytelling can still have a plot, but the non-linear organization is a choice of structure. Ultimately, in a non-linear story the reader will piece together the plot to create the chronological relationships, as Lisa Cowgill states in her essay on non-linear narratives:
The unconventional structure doesn’t mean audiences understand film in a new way. Viewers understand by making cause-and-effect connections between the scenes. Each beat of information must relate to what comes before and after, even if a scene transcends the chronological order of time. In nonlinear films, relationships created between the various time segments form a specific meaning when taken all together.
Additionally, choices of organization and structure also have to do with authorial intent. “Structure is important for another reason: It provides a clue to a story’s meaning… paying attention to repeated elements and recurrent details … repetition signals important connections and relationships in the story” (Chea). After all, why would someone choose to tell a story out of sequence if not to lead the reader to make a connection between the scenes? Therefore structure is form (choices of organization, patterns) with specific intent (meaning) that can be observed as part of the whole.
Structure as authorial intent can also be taken a step further to reveal audience manipulation. Structural choices, as editor Cheryl Klein points out, is “the author orchestrating the emotion.” Author An Na refers to this emotional base as the root-line in her lecture on structuring stories. She elaborates:
It’s all that darker deeper stuff t
In my “Just Write for Kids” course, we spend quite a bit of time exploring different ways to develop plot.
We look at basic three-act storytelling structure:
Act 1 – Set-up/Intro to character(s) and problem
Act 2 – Problem escalates to crisis or turning point
Act 3 – Resolution/Character solves problem and/or learns something, grows or changes in process
Another great way to develop or measure your plot is against the following story structure, or plot sequence:
Here’s an example of how this might work as measured against our recent picture book, The Very Fairy Princess:
This tool can be used to develop an initial plot, or
And so we come to the last of my series of posts based on Jane Yolen’s list of “10 Words Every Picture Book Author Must Know.” Resolution… a fitting word to end the series with! Thank you, Jane, for providing us with such thought-provoking bounty (and two months worth of fodder for blog posts!)
Resolution shares its root with “resolve,” and in literary terms, it means the point within the story when the central conflict is worked out, or the problem is solved. Perhaps not exactly how the protagonist intended or hoped, but solved nonetheless, and in such a way that the hero has learned something and has changed or grown in the process.
The best resolutions satisfy a need created at the beginning of the book. This needn’t be happy – but it should feel both earned and inevitable, which is different from predictable. Rather than anticipating how the book will end, the reader should be pleasantly surprised, yet also feel “But of course it had to end that way!” And picture book endings must also be clear, as opposed to implied or left open; young readers may have difficulty choosing between possible outcomes.
Let’s look at an example. In the beginning of Where the Wild Things Are, Max’s mother is angry with him, and sends him to bed without any supper. The resolution occurs when Max decides, after a long ‘journey’ indulging in all his wild fantasies, to return home where “someone loves him best of all,” and discovers his dinner waiting for him. There’s that memorable last line: “And it was still hot.”
From this the reader understands that Max has been forgiven. The need established at the beginning of the book – for Max to know that he is still loved, and lovable – has been met. His problem – going to bed without supper – has been solved. But note that his Mother is not calling him to dinner at the family table. He has, after all, been naughty. Yet we worry for a child who goes to bed without any supper, so dinner in his room feels both earned and satisfying (at least, by the parenting standards of Maurice Sendak’s era!) And the fact that it’s still hot tells us that it wasn’t such a long journey after all. In fact, maybe just as short as a dream.
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No, I’m not talking about pirate captains, or fishing. But I am talking about capturing something – and that is the interest of your reader.
As always, with the necessary economy of words in a picture book, the ‘hook’ needs to happen on the first page – ideally in the first sentence or two. You have only this much time to draw your reader in, to engage them in the story, in the drama unfolding. Time was, we could begin with “Once upon a time…” (or “Once there was…” or any variation thereof), and weave a world for the reader before establishing the characters, plot and conflict. Not any more. Now, we must begin with a bang – with an action that immediately suggests the issue at hand and the character grappling with it. Only in this way can we expect our modern young reader with a thousand and one things competing for his interest to want to read more.
Here are a few examples of what I consider to be great hooks in picture books – great opening lines that establish character and conflict and hook the reader from the get-go. See if you can recognize their source (answers below).
More importantly, see if you can sense why their ‘hook’ is successful:
Answers:
When writing fiction of any kind, the main question with respect to plot is always this:
What is the problem?
The problem, also known as the conflict, is the thing, or things, standing in the way of the hero/protagonist getting what he or she wants or needs, and as such, it sets up his or her journey. When that problem is compounded, it raises the stakes, creating tension and compelling the reader to turn the page to find out “what happens next?”
Generally speaking, literary problems/conflicts fall into one of four classic categories:
Sometimes these overlap, or the problem encompasses more than one category. Let’s look at some examples from a few well-known children’s books:
Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus by Mo Willems – Hero vs. someone else (the bus driver has told us not to let the pigeon drive the bus), hero vs. society (like the child reader, the pigeon is too young to drive), hero vs. himself (the pigeon is desperate to drive!)
Madeline by Ludwig Bemelman – Hero vs. nature/natural events (Madeline has a burst appendix)
Owen by Kevin Henkes – Hero vs. someone else (Mrs. Tweezers, the nosy neighbor, persuades Owen’s parents that their son is too old to have a blankie); Hero vs. society (Owen is starting school, where blankies are not allowed)
The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Erica Carle – Hero vs. himself/Hero vs. nature (no matter how much he eats, the caterpillar is still hungry)
The hero’s problem can be circumstantial, or it can be informed by character. Ideally, it’s both. The pigeon is desperate to drive the bus (character) but he’s too young (circumstantial). Madeline’s appendix bursts (circumstantial) but how she, her fellow students and Miss Clavell handle the problem is informed by character. Owen’s neighbor, parents and school want him to give up his blankie (circumstantial) but he is unswayed in his devotion (character). The caterpillar’s appetite is never satisfied because he is a caterpillar (character) and has only so much time before he has to cocoon and transform into a butterfly (circumstantial).
So… what’s your hero’s problem?
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[…] First off, Ingrid Sundberg. Ingrid Sundberg is a fellow VCFA alum. She recently posted a fabulous series taken from her thesis on story architecture. If you only saw bits, or missed the whole thing, bookmark this page which includes the links for the entire series. Organic Architecture: Links to the Whole Series […]
Thank you for this marvelous and informative series! Bookmarking this page for future reference!
Thanks for this wrap-up! You did such an awesome job with this!!!
Thank you for this amazing series, Ingrid! I haven’t thanked you often enough, but yours is the one blog I always read.
You are awesome!
Very impressed by what you’ve managed to put together here.