Category: Story Structure

Your Story as an RPG Campaign

Quan

One of my all time favorite comic books is Gold Digger by Fred Perry, published by Antarctic Press. It’s a fun, engaging story with amazing anime-styled art, constantly growing and evolving characters that pays heavy homage to 1980’s cartoons. In reading one of many insights from the creator, he mentioned that he plots his characters and stories as if his comic book were a tabletop Role Playing Game. That struck a chord with me. In fact, I think this can be a great mechanism for any writer looking to craft stories around their characters and worlds, especially if you’ve done a lot of character development and worldbuilding but can’t think of a story to tell about them.

How to play a tabletop RPG

If you’ve never played a Role Playing Game before, the set up is actually pretty simple. One person called the DungeonMaster creates a fictional world and scenarios within that world that the players, who are pretending to be characters with different backstories, personalities and abilities, respond to. And then the DungeonMaster progresses the scenario based on the players’ responses, and so on until either the players are killed or they accomplish their goal. It’s basically like an interactive campfire story, or even an improv script reading for actors in a movie. There are other details involved like determining levels and handling probabilities for success or failure of the player’s decisions, but at its core, interactive storytelling is what Role Playing Games are really about. And it doesn’t have to happen in just a high fantasy setting like the most popular RPG, Dungeons & Dragons. I’ve seen Role Playing games for Superspies, Superheroes, the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Lovecraftian Horror, and Feudal Japan. You can apply this model to any situation where people can assume roles. Heck, you could even argue that Monopoly is a form of Role-Playing Game, where you play the role of a real estate mogul.

You are the dungeon master

This applies to your storytelling in that You are in full control of the environment and everything that happens within it. The Dungeon Master is responsible for knowing the setting and parameters of the campaign. That includes everything from the place the adventure will be happening in and all the details of it, as well as the noteworthy elements of that place like its history and role within the rest of the world. The DM also needs to know about the denizens that inhabit that place, both major and minor. The DM needs to know how the world of this story works, and what the players can and can’t do within that world. This is you. It is your responsibility to set up the parameters for your characters and give them a world to operate in, goals to accomplish, obstacles to overcome and other people/animals/things to interact with. 

Also, as the DM, you are responsible to reacting to the decisions the players make within your campaign. Every action has a consequence, and you need to be thinking of how the environment reacts to your players’ actions. An RPG campaign is a constant dialogue between DM and players, with each reacting to each other to progress the story.

You are the players

Likewise, you also assume the role of the players. Each player in an RPG party creates his or her own character which may or may not be a reflection of the actual player. They act and react to the scenarios the Dungeon Master presents, and they gain experience in various areas in response to their decisions. When you write your characters, you are getting in their heads and making their decisions, reacting to the scenarios and challenges you placed for them as the Dungeon Master. So as a writer, you need to really thunk of how that character approaches that scenario. For my high fantasy story, I actually used the color pie from the popular game Magic: The Gathering to lay the foundation for my character’s personalities. And it is what I refer to when I need to figure out how they would act and react in general.

Actions and reactions

As I said earlier, the Role Playing Game campaign is a constant dialogue between Dungeon Master and Players, as well as a constant interaction between the players themselves. This is a dialogue you need to be cognizant of as you develop your story. Nothing in your story happens in a vacuum. The decisions your characters make in relation to the story have an effect on the environment, so that change must be reflected.  And as the situation changes and evolves in response to your characters, your characters have to respond to those changes. That interplay has to happen in a natural, organic way that progresses the story naturally. So on one hand you need to be intuned with your character’s personalities to know how they will react to various situations. But you also have to have an in-depth knowledge and familiarity with the environment your characters interact with.

Getting to know your characters

Even as the DungeonMaster has sourcebooks and reference materials to help them get a better understanding of the world an everything in it, the players have materials they can reference, also. They keep stat sheets listing their name, background, occupation, class, inventory, spells learned, weapons in hand, as well as the levels of experience they have in all necessary areas. This is valuable for a player knowing what they can and can’t do in response to the given situation. You might want to go this deep in developing your characters. It is a great way of knowing what your characters have available and what their true options are in any given situation. Keeping track of levels may help, too, because that shows just how well-versed and experienced your characters are in things they are trying to do, which greatly affects how successful they can be at it.

Variance and unpredictability

One thing RPGs feature that might be unfamiliar to you is the element of chance. Not every decision the players make is guaranteed to go as intended. The success or failure of many decisions is determined by a roll of dice or a coin flip, this creates a level of tension and unpredictability, and gives another variable the player and the DungeonMaster must react to. If you are ever in a situation where you don’t know what should happen next, perhaps you can adopt this method and let chance decide. Have your character decide to do something, and then roll the dice to see whether that decision gets the intended effect. And if the roll comes up not in favor of the decision, then you need to ask yourself what a failed decision looks like and how best to portray it.

If you are in need for some inspiration or something to jumpstart your storytelling, perhaps treating your story like a Role-Playing game might be that catalyst for you. It helps organize your ideas and plans into a cohesive narrative, and can help you truly visualize the story you want to tell, as well as all of the elements within. And who knows? It might even interest you in giving an actual Rope Playing Game like Dungeons & Dragons a try. Just don’t forget to bring your 6-sided dice.

How to Write a Trilogy

Quan

Trilogies are a holy grail in storytelling. They make any story larger and grander, and can create a real connection over time between the reader and the central characers. I’m in the process of writing my own trilogy, so I thought I’d do some digging into what makes trilogies work. I found a bunch of great advice on a bunch of other blogs, so I thought I’d share my findings with you, along with some of my own observations from writing my own trilogy.

  1. The first part of the story must be able to stand on its own merits. The Master & Commander series of books are quite popular, but when adapted for screen, never made it past the first movie (despite the movie being pretty damned good and making a lot of money). The lesson is that you cannot assume that your storyarc will make it to book two. Make sure your first story is strong and well-told and can work as a standalone story.
  2. Part two takes everything that worked about part one and ramps everything up, the stakes are higher, the character swings are bolder, and the consequences more severe. And part three is the closure where story arcs conclude and loose ends are tied up.
  3. Throughout the stories, there have to be details, thematic or otherwise, that tie the three stories together. Ideally, your reader should be able to sit and go through all three stories in one sitting and feel that they have read one complete narrative.
  4. To piggyback off of point one: each part of the trilogy has to work as a self-contained story within itself while at the same time advancing the overall narrative. You never know which story will be somebody’s jumping-on point, so you want to make sure they get a complete story in that one instance, whether they are reading part one or part three. At the same time, the most successful trilogies have a narrative thread that develops over the course of the series. It could be a plot arc or a character development arc, or even a setting/environmental arc. I’m a huge James Bond fan, and I love each of its 25+ movies, but the stories pitting him against Spectre and Ernst Starvo Blofeld resonate the most with me because the rivalry between the two is built and developed over the course of multiple stories (i.e. Dr, No through Diamonds are Forever was an excellent build, as was Casino Royale through Spectre). Likewise, the original Foundation Trilogy chronicled the fall of the Galactic Empire and the rise of the Foundation over the course of many generations.

For me, a good trilogy is a prime example of the 3 act rule that I spoke of in earlier posts, just in a bigger package and working at a Meta level. To review, Magic: The Gathering Head of R&D Mark Rosewater (who also wrote episodes of Roseanne) described the process in three steps: 1) get your protagonist stuck up a tree. 2) throw rocks at them. 3) get your character down from the tree. This works withn the confines of a regular story, but it also works within a trilogy. The first story gets your character stuck up the tree. Even within your protagonist’s resolution of the story’s central plot, there are seeds planted which show that the greater problem has not been solved yet. Think Star Wars: yes, the Death Star was destroyed, but the Empire still rules the galaxy, and the big bad (Darth Vader) was still out there to create havoc in a future movie. The second story raises the stakes and truly puts the heroes in jeopardy of not completing their overall goal; like in Empire Strikes Back, where Luke and Company were dealt devastating blows by Vader, Palpatine and the Empire and the only central plot of the story was whether our heroes could survive it all and make it to the end of the movie. And the third story ties everything together and resolves everything, like in Return of the Jedi where Luke finally redeems his father and destroys the leader of the Empire…along with another Death Star.

There are a lot of things to keep in mind if you are planning a trilogy, but then there are added challenges if a story you originally hadn’t intended on expanding organically develops into something that needs more installments. Maybe your standalone story is so successful that your fans of your publisher demand a follow-up or two. Or maybe you have so much going on in your sequel that you can’t contain it all in one book. In those instances, the best thing to do is to do a deep dive into the world you created in book one. Pick out as many aspects of the settings, plots, subplots and characters that could be explored, and find an overall theme you can build an overarching narrative from that can carry multiple books.

So if you are hankering for a good narrative challenge, try taking one of your stories and expanding it into a 3-part saga. You might discover some new things about your world that will only serve to enhance your original idea.

Putting Your Spin on an Established Story Type

Quan

How often have you read a book, watched a movie or played a video game and thought to yourself “You know, if I had written this, I’d have the story go another way”? I go through that a lot. Most stories follow well-established sets of tropes and conventions. But what makes a story idea “new” or “fresh” is the unique twists and changes they put on a story to make it different from what has come before. There are different ways you can do this, and each way creates fertile ground for new, groundbreaking story ideas that you can tap into.

Inverting Expectations

One of my favorite movies is the Drew Barrymore film “Ever After.” it follows a popular trend in movies where they take classic story and retell it with more modern sensibilities and attitudes. In this case it was a more assertive, independent and empowered Cinderella that didn’t need a fairy godmother or a magic pumpkin to get the attention of the prince.

It has been done countless times in comic books, like in DC Comics’ “Tales from the Dark Multiverse,” where things go horribly wrong during iconic events in the DC universe’s history, and those stories play out entirely differently from their original counterparts, with much darker outcomes.

To take this approach you can simply take a well-used story trope, study how that archetype usually progresses, and then ask yourself what would happen if you changed a few key details. There are lots of variations on the classic “hero’s journey” story type because of this. Imagine taking the story archetype used in “Dances with Wolves,” “Fern Gully” and “Avatar” and changing a key plot point so that the story goes in an entirely different direction.

Adding New Elements

The popular card game Magic: the Gathering has a history of taking popular stories and putting their spin on it. Whether it be Gothic horror with their Innistrad storyline, or Arthurian legends and Grimm Fairy tales with their Eldraine Storyline, or Japanese mythology with their Kamigawa storyline, they make a habit of taking well-known story tropes in pop culture and using them as the basis for creating something both new and familiar. You can do the same thing, by taking that story archetype, keeping the framework as-is, but adding some new elements to make the story unique. What would happen if you took that Dances with Wolves story type and added a live film crew that broadcast the whole saga like a reality show, with a live audience?

Making Fundamental Changes.

Quentin Tarantino’s film “Hateful 8” is, at its core, a chamber mystery. A bunch of unique characters are locked into a room with a mystery to solve, where possibly one of them is the culprit. It is a classic type of storytelling mastered by writers like Agatha Christie. Tarantino, however, puts two unique spins on the trope by first placing the story in the Wild West, and secondly by not having anything particularly mystery-worthy happen until more than halfway through the movie. The mystery until that point is figuring out why these disparate people were brought together in the first place.

For this approach, find a classic story archetype and try altering different aspects of it. Change the locale or the time period. Change the protagonist or the villain. And then see how those changes affect the story. We’ve seen that Dances With Wolves story in the wild west, in a Brazillian rainforest, and in outer space. What if you set the story in a circus? And had a drag queen as the protagonist instead of the typical male?

You don’t have to have a total blank slate when you are trying to come up with a new story to write. It is perfectly acceptable to take well-use story types and make changes to it to make the story your own. Give it a try and see what you come up with.

Making Your Story Adaptable for Stage and Screen

Quan

I had picked up a cheap DVD at the dollar store a while back. It was “Blast” starring Eddie Griffin and Vivica Fox. It was a decent flick, nothing spectacular, but it wasn’t horrible, either. What surprised me was that the movie was based on a book.

Being a book writer, it always raises an eyebrow when a novel gets optioned for a movie or TV show. And it’s not just the holy grail franchises like “Twilight”, “Girl With The Dragon Tattoo”, “Da Vinci Code”, “Bourne”, or “Harry Potter”. Even lesser-known properties like “Virgin Suicides”, and the short-lived (but AWESOME) TV show “FlashForward” are based on books. Heck, even nonfiction how-to books like “Think Like A Man” got movie treatments.

So I’m sure I’m not the only one wondering how to get a piece of that action.

There’s a lot about getting your story optioned that is out of your control. You have to find a connected literary agent that can get your story in front of movie execs or people with enough power to make stuff like that happen. You have to have a studio actually interested in your story. And then there’s negotiating a fair deal, and hoping the guys adapting your story for screen don’t butcher your creation to the point where it’s not recognizable (Think the movie version of “I Robot” vs. the book). And that’s if the story actually makes it to film – many optioned properties get lost in the development process and never actually get made into movies or TV shows.

But one thing you CAN control about the process is making your story easily translatable for television and movies. This way you story becomes more attractive to would-be producers and film execs, because they can see an easy path to getting the story in the format that will make them the most money.

Break down your book into its core elements.

Remember, movies are visual mediums, and you don’t have more than a few hours (which translate into about 150 specially formatted pages) to tell a complete story. So your story needs to get to the point and stay there. First and foremost, you need to know the core elements of your story: The central characters, the central conflict, and the setting. Most films and television episodes are plot-driven, which means you want to make sure the plot that moves your story forward is strong and engaging. With characters, you want your main characters to have strong, definable characteristics that the actors portraying the role can build around. This doesn’t mean you eschew nuance and subtlety completely, but you want to make sure that your character’s defining traits are front and center and inform most of their behavior. The setting should be well defined, enough so that your readers (and a potential producer) can visualize where everything is happening.

Your book synopsis as a movie outline

After you find these core elements, then you want to build the skeleton of you story, or find the skeleton in your existing story. Most publishers and agents require a chapter-by-chapter synopsis of your story for submission anyway, so now is a good time to put one together. Write a chapter-by-chapter breakdown of your story, and then go back and filter out the details that are least vital to the plot. Look your outline over and then determine if the plot is strong enough to carry onscreen (or stage, if you want your story to be adapted into a play). These scenes are the ones that need the most of your attention when you write your final story. They need to stand out, engage and keep the narrative moving forward.

The plot points also need to drive home the central conflict of your story. Who is you protagonist, what are they up against, and what is at stake. These elements need to be front and center throughout your story. Ultimately, you want to be able to explain the biggest elements of your story in one sentence.

With those elements established, then you can go back in and build everything else on top of that, while still keeping everything pointing towards your core elements. Just about every story I write is intended to be adaptable. Godmode was built as a sci-fi horror story, but there is heavy action and character development moments to establish Elijah and his supporting characters, along with ever-raising stakes that escalate from simple survival, to protecting people near him, to rescuing his wife and child from a nemesis that was a former friend.

Action and Dialogue matters

Since movies are a visual medium that moves in realtime, you do not really have the luxury of delving deep into aspects that cannot be visually represented on the screen/stage. So inner thoughts, explanations of how stuff works, lengthy descriptions of history and settings, while still useful and essential to your story, all take a backseat to strong dialogue and action (and by action I don’t just mean shooting, fighting and blowing stuff up. By action I mean stuff happening and moving the plot forward). So you want to make sure your characters are talking or communicating to each other in some way, shape or form, and that they are interacting with their environment.

As long as you have a strong core to your story, and your story is moving and engaging, then moviemakers should be able to see how they can bring your story to the screen. Now it’s just a matter of finding a moviemaker willing to give your story a chance. Go for it.

Creating a Sourcebook for Your World

Quan

Sometimes, when writing a story, your world gets so big that it gets hard to keep track of everything that is happening in it. You can introduce so many different elements, settings, threads and characters that telling a cohesive story that stays faithful to everything you’ve established becomes a challenge. This is especially true when you’re writing a story that needs multiple installments or sequels. I faced that problem with a story I am currently seeking representation for as of this post. I have already started writing a follow-up book, and in writing it I realized I had set up a lot of concepts in the first book that I need to flesh out before writing the second. When that happens, You might want to compile a reference source that explains everything about your world that you can come back to when you’re stuck. This is usually called a story bible, or a sourcebook.

RPG elements

The best known sourcebooks are from tabletop Role Playing Games. The Dungeon master needs source material to create the scenarios for the other players to operate in, so he uses books full of material that references locations, landmarks, magic systems, races and cultures, along with key characters and any other details about that scenario that the Dungeon master may need. Armed with this information, they can then create adventures for the other players to get involved in, and be prepared for any action or reaction the players may exhibit during the game. You can apply this same principle to your story. In essence, you are both the Dungeon master and the players, and you want to be armed with as much information as you can generate to craft the most cohesive story you can make.

Elements of sourcebooks

Many, many years ago Lloyd Brown wrote an excellent article on developing Sourcebooks for tabletop Role-Playing Games (You can read it here https://www.rpg.net/news+reviews/columns/free09jun05.html ). Let’s take the elements he introduced and expand them for a broader range of world-building.

The Tone

In creating your sourcebook, you want to establish what the overall mood or ambiance of your world is. Is your world dark and foreboding? Paranoid and suspicious? Bright and optimistic? Grand and regal? Satirical and Tongue-in-cheek? What is the overall tone that you want your readers to feel as they engage your settings? Take some time to describe how this world feels.

The Places

Landmarks and important locales are a defining element of Role Playing games as they present backdrops for the players to romp through. This is also true for general fiction. Take some time to describe and explain the most important places of your setting How they are built, what important events occur there, and what importance they have to the overall world. If you can even map out the locations, whether its a map of their interior or an exterior map of where they are in relation to the rest of the world, that will also be a great help.

The History

The original article says it best: “Give a background on the setting’s history, explaining how it got to where it is now. If it’s a fictional setting, you might start with a creation myth and work from there. If it’s an alternate history setting, where your history deviates from real-world history is a good starting point. For science fiction games, background elements usually include Earth’s exploration of space and first contact with aliens.”

To elaborate on that, any element or concept that has any importance in the story should have a history attached to it, explaining how it came to be in your setting and what led to its importance. And any detail of your story that deviates from real-word sensibilities will also need to have some backstory attached to it. And don’t forget to make sure all of your histories and backstories work well together, to help avoid conflicts.

The People

Explaining how the people live in your world is paramount to your story. You want to delve into the different races, classes and cultures and how they operate within your word, as well as how they interact with each other. Use every tool at your disposal, from describing art styles and rituals, to traditions, dress styles and cuisine. You can even mention their language tics and music. Anything that will help you as a writer and the reader get a clearer picture of how the people in your world live and breathe will help, and the more, the better.

You might also want to add some details about your most oft-used characters. It could be a great reference for both you and the reader as you continue depicting the situations those characters get themselves into and out of.

The Religions

Religion and faith play a heavy role in how the real world operates, so it must have a place in your world, too. Even the lack of a central religion in itself is a tenement of belief. Take time to explain the roles religion has with your people, places, culture and history. Who do your people believe in? How do they express those beliefs? What landmarks and rituals do they associate with those beliefs? How do these beliefs affect the way the world is run, and how different cultures deal with each other? These can have a profound effect on your story, so you might want to take some time to flesh these details out.

Mythology counts in this category, too. The fantastic creation myths and legends of pantheons and history explaining how cultures see the world is also fair game for delving into.

The Tech

This wasn’t covered in the original article, but it really should have been. If your world has any element that operates outside of the norms of the real world, you need to explain how those aspects work. It could be explaining how magic works in your high fantasy setting, or explaining what vampires and werewolves can and can’t do in your horror story, and definitely explaining how the outlandish, futuristic gadgets work in you sci-fi or espionage story. Having a concrete set of rules for how these important elements work grounds your story and makes it easier to stay consistent the more you write about it.

The Secrets

Your setting will have loads of secrets waiting for your characters to explore and discover. The more prominent ones that have a direct effect on your story will probably need to be fleshed out if they haven’t already been covered in the previous topics. Take the time to really delve into the who, what, where, why and how of these secrets, and possibly explain why they are secrets to begin with.

Referencing

While some of the more well-known story franchises have been known to publish their sourcebooks, it is really more for your own personal reference and understanding of the world you are creating. So be sure to keep your sourcebook handy while writing so that you can come back to it whenever you need to check the accuracy or consistency of something you are writing. And be sure to keep your sourcebook flexible. You will be introducing new ideas, concepts, places and people constantly to your world, so you need to be able to update your sourcebook as needed.

You will find having a convenient reference source for the world you are creating to be a valuable resource, and it may even prompt you to do more deep exploration of how your wold works, which will in turn add more material to your sourcebook that you can mine for stories. I am constantly adding new ideas and concepts for the high fantasy trilogy I am currently writing, and most of those new concepts, landmarks, people, histories and ideas are built upon stuff I had added to the sourcebook long ago. Take some time aside to develop this, and your stories will be better for it in the long run.

Setting Up the Big Reveal

Quan

The Big Plot Twist is a staple of storytelling. Everyone uses it in any form of storytelling medium. It is a great way of progressing a story forward, and it keeps readers guessing as to what will happen next. Oftentimes, a major plot twist could make a reader totally rethink everything that has come before it and put the entire story into a new perspective. The most famous example I can think of is M. Knight Shaymalan and the twist endings that he is notorious for in movies such as The Sixth Sense, Unbreakable and Signs. In those movies, he saves the major plot twist for the end of the film, but in reality you can place these big reveals anywhere in the story and get a similar impact.

Setting up the twist: unexpected reveals are rarely that

When plotting a big plot twist or reveal, you want to make sure it is not something sprung on the reader for nothing more than shock value. You want it to occur organically within the progression of the story, and it has to make sense within the context of the narrative. And there are ways to do that. The trick is to have plot twists the reader won’t see coming, but at the same time they could have seen coming if they had been paying better attention leading up to the plot twist.

Leaving clues vs. direct foreshadowing

This issue is a matter of how subtle you want to be in letting your reader know a change to the plot is coming. With more subtle hints, you can still have that moment of surprise for casual readers, but you also will have a reward for more astute readers or those who are reading your book for a second time.

Try not to be cheesy or hamfisted…or obvious!

Part of the fun in partaking in a story for the first time is trying to outguess the author, and trying to figure out where the story is going or what is going to happen next before it actually happens. Making the clues, omens and foreshadowing too obvious ruins all of that. So try to avoid instances that scream “BIG PLOT TWIST COMING” like characters directly referencing stuff that will come into play later on, or blatantly display character traits that will affect the story late on. You want to be careful not to spoonfeed your reader or insult their intelligence.

How subtle is subtle?

At the same time, you don’t want to try to be too clever and go over the heads of your readers. Obscure references that don’t really fit the context of your setting or characters can make your story come off as pretentious. And that’s providing that the reader understands your clues to begin with. Make sure your setup actually makes sense.

Leaving Clues

There are ways you can foreshadow your big plot reveal to avoid making the reader feel bamboozled.

Your clues can be behavioral (In The Hand You’re Dealt, Tika’s explosive temper is established early, and it greatly affects events that happen later on), environmental (in Leopard Man, Ashlynn and Barter visit a landmark early in the story that plays a crucial role in the story’s climax), vocal (in Godmode, bible-thumping Ithaca warns Elijah about the consequences of his behavior with a bible verse early that plays out later in the story), and/or antecdotal. You can even hint at upcoming events in the names of characters and landmarks (Elijah and the company he works for – B.A.A.L. – are in reference to an epic Bible showdown between the prophet Elijah and the worshipers of the pagan god Baal). The key is planting small details that subtly point towards events that will happen later.

Now, you also don’t want to get so into adding clues that you detract from the other, more important elements of the story. It’s a lot like setting up a mystery. Knowing the truth before hand, you need to leave some breadcrumbs so readers can have an idea of what you have in store for them.

Planting red herrings: Effective ways to honestly mislead

If you are familiar with storytelling cliches and tropes, you can use those to your advantage, and swerve the reader with misleading clues and false foreshadowing. You can use accepted norms in your chosen story genre to lead your readers into thinking the story will follow the usual formula for that type of story. Then your big reveal turns everything on its head, and catches the reader totally offguard.

Even with this, though, you need to be fair. While you’re planting the obvious clues to lead the reader down the wrong way of thinking about your story, you still need to plant some more subtle hints at the way your plot is really going. Or better yet, you could craft your clues and foreshadowing in a way that they can be interpreted either way.

Use your Beta Readers

This is an element where your beta readers and content editor can really be a big help. Be sure to specifically ask them if there were any plot twists or big reveals that caught them off guard or that they didn’t see coming. And also ask them if there were plot twists they saw coming a mile away. And ask them to explain how those revelations made them feel about the story as a whole. You can use their reactions to gauge how effective your big plot twist is, as well as how effectively you set it up.

If done effectively, your big plot reveal can be a great hook to keep your readers guessing, and more importantly, to keep your readers reading. Setting it up properly can encourage multiple readings of your story, which in turn can further endear your readers to you and your writing. So be sure to make the time to set everything up effectively.

Starting Over

Quan

So you’ve just finished writing your epic manuscript. It is your masterpiece; the story you’ve been born to tell, that you have poured all of your heart and soul into for months, if not years, on end. You’ve carefully chosen every word and phrase, and did a ton of research to make sure the story was authentic. In your mind, it is perfect.

Then you hand the story you are so proud of over to your beta readers or your content editor to look over. And they shred it. They find massive, gaping plot holes, or serious believability issues, or huge flaws in your character development, or serious inconsistencies with your setting, or technical/historical inaccuracies. Or even worse, all of the above. Nothing short of a complete overhaul is what you need to make your beloved story publishable. And the story is too dear to you for you to discard, so that means you’ve basically going to have to rewrite the whole thing from scratch. So how do you go about handling that?

I’ve had a few instances like that, where I had to take my idea back to the drawing board after someone I was pitching my ideas to swiss cheesed a number of my concepts and characters. So here are some of the approaches I took.

Find Your Core

You really want to start by getting to the heart of your story. What is your story really about? What is the driving conflict and theme? Oftentimes, problems arise when your story drifts too far away from its central themes and conflicts. Examine your characters and the world they exist in. You should be able to summarize the essentials of your setting and each character in a sentence or two. Boil everything down to this core and start rebuilding from there.

Asking Why

When finding your core, the best way to develop things is to look at the tenements you are building your story around and asking why they have to be that way. Why is your heroine so cynical? Why does your villain want so badly to execute his nefarious plot? Why is that landmark in your setting so meaningful to the narrative? Come up with answers to those questions, and then ask them again of your new answers. Get to the bottom of why your most important elements are so important, and use that as the basis of your retelling of your story.

Delve Into Your Backstories

sometimes the best way to fix what is going to be in your story is to delve into the details that won’t be in your story. Your backstories give flesh to the skeletons you have of your setting, plot and characters, and give you reference points to use when developing your story. Take the elements you plan on introducing and the concepts that might need some explaining, and explain them: where they came from, how they got to be the way they are, and what effect they have on the rest of the world and characters. Be cognizant of inconsistencies and stuff that flat-out doesn’t make sense within the context of the story you want to tell.

It might even get to the point where you need to create an entire story bible or sourcebook to explain everything that is going on in your wold and with your characters. I plan to address the ins and outs o creating one in a future blog post.

Double-check Your Research

There may be instances where your critics poke holes into the accuracy of some of your story elements. When this happens, then its time to delve deeper into your research. New information is constantly being added for just about any topic, and perhaps some of the information you gathered at the time has been further developed, or even refuted. So it would be prudent to do a double-check to make sure that the information you gathered is still accurate and relevant. Make sure your facts are straight and that they apply properly to the story you are telling.

And this research includes the overall criticisms from your beta readers and content editors. Take a second look at what they had to say about your story elements and see if you can address those critisisms directly in your rewrite. In addition to the negative stuff also pay attention to the stuff they liked or that really caught their attention. These are elements you want to build on and prominently feature.

Try Something Different

Sometimes the best approach is to take your core ideas and simply build something new out of them. Both fantasy stories I am currently seeking representation for as of his post had instances were I had to do that. My urban fantasy thriller Needle of the Southside came about from a failed sci-fi/fantasy hybrid epic I was writing in the same vein as Final Fantasy 7’s narrative. While bouncing ideas off of my content editor, she found a ton of questionable plot and setting issues with the story as I was planning it (I actually had thumbnailed a 4-issue comic book about the story at the time). So I had to scrap the story and restart the narrative. In doing that, the core story elements, along with her insights, led me in an entirely new direction for the story.

Likewise with the fantasy epic I wrote called Return of the Tyrant. There were a ton of plot elements and adventures I had planned for the heroes of my story, but while talking about my ideas with my content editor (we bounce story ideas off of each other often), she found that many of my ideas would be problematic to execute in a first novel, if at all. So I heeded her advice and put those ideas on the shelf for further development, but that left a void in what I had planned for he first book. So I had to craft new adventures, which meant introducing new characters and settings, which took the story in an entirely new direction from what I had originally planned. The adventures I originally had in mind can still be used, but I will now have to adapt them to fit the new direction the story is going in for future follow-up books.

Starting over can be a frustrating, daunting task. But if you are up to the challenge, you can take the remnants of what didn’t work, and truly craft something memorable, which will be many, many times better and more engaging than what you had originally come up with. So don’t be afraid of the process.

The Point of No Return

Quan

In every story, there will be a time where the Protagonist has gone too deep into the progression of the narrative to opt out or turn back. This is a moment where things have developed so far that all other options of dealing with the problem outlined at the outset of the story are no longer viable, and the only way the protagonist can get through the ordeal is to continue down the path he or she is travelling on. I call this moment The Point of No Return. Every story has it. This moment has to happen early in the story, but it doesn’t necessarily have to happen right at the beginning or even in the first chapter.

Wizards of the Coast head of R&D Mark Rosewater has a prefect description of the three-act story structure: Act 1: get your protagonist stuck up a tree. Act 2: throw rocks at them. Act 3: get your protagonist down from the tree. In the 3 act structure, the Point of No Return happens somewhere in Act 1. That is when your character is firmly stuck up the proverbial tree. Or, at least, has climbed so far up the tree that it is pointless to go back down.

The benefit of knowing where your point of no return lies is that you can fully focusing on enhancing hat singular moment, and making it truly stand out dramatically. The Point of No Return for your protagonist should also be the point of no return for your reader, as well. This is the moment where the reader should be fully invested in seeing the protagonist through to the outcome of the story. So you really want to make that moment grip the reader and stick in their minds, leaving them wondering what is going to happen next.

When determining when your point of no return is for your protagonist, take a look at your narrative overall. It would help if you already have a story outline or a chapter-by-chapter synopsis, but those are optional. Look at how the story progresses and ask yourself at what point does the proverbial “sh*t get real”? This should be at an early point in the story. Ask yourself at what point do your central characters lose the option of turning back or changing course? There should be a moment where the protagonist becomes kind of locked in to the path they are heading down. It could be a crucial decision they make early on, or a particular situation they find themselves in, or a moment where they take responsibility for something or someone, or when they cross a line that they wouldn’t have otherwise crossed. A story I am seeking representation for as of this writing literally has my protagonist at the edge of the “wrong side of town.” realizing that his idyllic way of life has forever been altered and the only way to get back to some semblance or normalcy is to see his predicament through to its conclusion. This moment happens at the end of act one, and is his Point of No Return.

In my stories, I tried to keep my point of no return towards the end of Act One, and I made it pretty obvious. In Godmode, it was when Elijah learned that his family was being held by Claudius Webster. That upped the ante and made it so that he could no longer afford the option of letting those monsters kill him. In Double Entry, that moment was when Melvin asked Dana if he could meet his estranged son. That took their interactions from purely business into something personal, and there was no way things could go back to the way they were now that he had made that intention known. For The Hand You’re Dealt, three were two points because there were two narratives being told concurrently. In the past, it was obviously when Tika and Jay shared their first kiss. But in the present, it was when Tika met her absentee father for the first time. I tried to make sure all of these moments had extra emotional impact, so that the reader will understand how that moment has changed everything.

I strongly recommend finding this singular moment in your story and emphasizing it. It will add to the drama of your story and help with keeping the reader engaged.

When Characters Hijack the Plot

Quan

If you are a writer that prefers to know exactly what is going to happen in your story before you start writing, then I assume you spend a lot of time outlining and hammering out your plot. You know exactly where your characters are going to go, what they are going to do, and how they are going to do it. You know all of the major plot twists beforehand, as well as how your characters should react to them. You have everything set up neatly and ready to go.

But then you start actually writing.

What happens when you write your characters and develop them within the story, and their development takes you in an entirely different direction? Or what happens when you introduce a new supporting character, and whatever that character wants to do totally derails your carefully planned and outlined plot?

Instances like these are what I consider “hijacking” the plot of your story. The characters’ personalities, histories, goals and makeup dictate a different reaction than what you had originally planned, and it almost mandates you taking the story in an entirely different direction. It’s like in many episodes of The Simpsons, where the episode starts off seeming to be about one story element, but then something gets introduced which changes the plot of the episode drastically and makes the rest of the show about resolving the new development.

How you resolve this really depends on how flexible you are as a writer. For some writers, the plot outline is just a bare framework or suggestion of how things probably should go maybe, and if any element comes around to change things, they are perfectly okay with going with the flow. There are inherent issues that can come from that, but they are willing to deal with that. At the other extreme, there are writers that are determined, or obligated (in the case of ghostwriters or people under contract for franchises), to stick to their original plot outline no matter what. These writers now have to face the possibility of forcing their characters to act against their true nature for the sake of following the plot. There are also dangers with this approach, too. Chances are if you’ve faced this issue, you fall somewhere in the middle. Here are a few options on how you can handle it.

Make the new arc a subplot

You can take this new direction your character wants to go in, and make it a side story that you visit as a break from your main plot. This can actually add more depth to your core story as it allows room fr character development and exploration you might not be able to get to within your main plot. And it will be even better if you can tie this new side story back into the central plot.

Make it into a spinoff, and finish the core plot with new characters

If what this character wants to do is totally out of the realm of your originally story, you could just make a separate book dealing with that story. And if that character simply is no longer a good fit for the plot you have in mind, then you’ll have to create new characters that are better suited to your original story. In that case, you will need to create your character with the needs of the plot built into their makeup and backstory.

Change details about your characters to make them compliant.

If you really don’t want to craft an entirely new story around your characters’ new developments, you could just modify and tweak your character’s personality and backstory to be more compliant with your plot. This is actually something I’d recommend against. Once your characters discover their voice and perspective, I believe it would be a disservice to try to neuter or change their voice for the sake of a plot. Interesting plots are great for one story, but memorable characters can be utilized for multiple stories on end.

extend the story.

My solution with my story was that my characters would go off on this wild side adventure, and after that was resolved, then they still had to deal with their original problem. But now they were armed with more experience, new allies, new skills and a better understanding of the world around them. Of course, this meant that the story would take more than one book to be completed. That’s not necessarily a bad thing, by the way.

So these are different methods and approaches you can take when your characters start pushing you in directions you hadn’t intended, and start taking you away from the plot you had so carefully planned. It’s nothing of panic over, and happens often when you take time to truly develop characters. But there are ways for you to b true to both your characters and your plot, and if handled correctly, can add that much more depth to your overall narrative.

Plotting the End of Your Story

Quan

If you were ever wondering how to end the story you are writing, I may have some ways to help. I had a couple of tricks for figuring out the endgame of a couple of books. For Double Entry, at the penultimate scene, I literally had my protag voice out how I was feeling. I didn’t know what was going to happen next, so I had him literally tell that to his love interest, and wrote her reaction. It came together well, allowed me another moment to let them bond, and reinforced some of the themes I had been pushing in the book. Having them talk also clarified how the primary antagonist was going to behave during the final confrontation. So sometimes if you don’t really know where a story is going, it’s okay to let your characters articulate your uncertainty or frustration. It might lead to some new insights.

The other trick was to envision what a follow-up to the story would look like. If/when your book gets a sequel, what are some of the themes and ideas you’d explore? Where would you take your most important characters? If someone dies, how would they be remembered in your sequel? How would the sequel make things worse for your hero or heroine? Now, with those ideas germinating in your head, grandfather your climax and denoument to set up those threads in your potential sequel. Maybe you want your protag hellbent on revenge against his arch-nemesis in the sequel…so maybe the bad guy needs to do something deserving of revenge at the end of your current book (just an example. I’ve been talking with people in my James Bond fangroups on Facebook on why many of us have On Her Majesty’s Secret Service as our favorite bond movie, so that’s on the brain). And this would work even if you don’t intend for the book to get a sequel. I specifically let Calloway (my main antagonist in Double Entry) get away because I liked the idea of doing a hardboiled action-crime follow-up that was a complete shift in tone and theme from Double Entry, where Calloway goes on a mission to undo the mess he made in DE, with predictably disastrous, violent results. I never wrote the sequel because that would require more knowledge of the inner workings of drug gangs in Portland, OR than I have the stomach to learn, but leaving the door open for that sequel is what helped me decide Calloway’s fate in Double Entry.

I’m also a proponent of “just follow you character around and see what happens.” The only issue with that is knowing when to stop following. Where is the jump-off point where you know the main character arc of the journey has been completed, and a new one is about to start? For that answer, you have to look at where the journey started. When did the central problem present itself, and has the problem been resolved? The jump-off point, and therefore the ending of that arc, is when the prevalent problem comes to its resolution. And as a writer, you should be able to tell when that moment happens.

These are just a few of my go-to techniques for finishing stories. Please comment with any that you may have come up with. Here’s a book from Wizards of the Coast that handled its ending particularly well.