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