One of the most common problems I see in manuscripts by unpublished authors (besides slipping out of “storytelling” into “expository telling”) is a tendency to ramble from description to dialogue to action to discovery etc., almost at random.
This is fine when one is pre-writing— just brainstorming, outlining, and pantsing one’s way along, chasing inspiration. One pursues and often captures vivid scenes, character insights, and plot points around which the rest of the story will be written. But if “the rest of the story” fumbles its way toward the next gem, the reader might not stick around long enough to reach it.
What’s missing is a reliable way to hold the reader’s attention as you rhythmically spool through “the rest of the story” in a way that sets up each crushing defeat and glorious triumph. Fortunately, such a rhythm is well understood: it’s called story structure.
Story structure isn’t the same as a story arc, the three-act (or four-box, or eight-point) overall plot structure that makes a story satisfying. Nor is it a formulaic straitjacket to strangle your creativity. It is a basic underlying rhythm that engages the attention, emotion, and curiosity of your readers, and maintains it as long as you maintain that rhythm. Depart from it whenever you like… at your own risk.
Story structure (perhaps “story rhythm” would be a better term) is made up of two kinds of scenes, which Dwight Swain called “Scenes” and “Sequels,” each of which has three “story beats.”
Scene:
- Goal
- Conflict
- Disaster
Sequel:
- Reaction
- Dilemma
- Decision
The three parts of a Scene sound just like any scene you might write: a character strives toward a specific Goal, encounters Conflict or resistance, and either fails to attain the Goal, or succeeds and is disappointed for some reason, or discovers what the next Goal must be. It might not end in “disaster,” but there must be some kind of “uh oh” or “what next?” involved, which hopefully sets up another scene.
But this is Swain’s insight: begin with a Goal and Conflict, but always end in Disaster of some kind, at least something that feels like a Disaster to your main character and to your reader.
Then make the next scene something different: make it a Sequelto the scene before it. Describe the POV character feeling, absorbing, Reacting to the Disaster that just happened. Then give them a Dilemma: force them to make an impossible choice (or one that seems so to that character at that part of their character arc). Let them agonize in a way that resonates convincingly with your reader. But not for too long. They must Decide on some course of action—which becomes the Goal for your next Scene.
Goal, Conflict, Disaster — Reaction, Dilemma, Decision
Goal, Conflict, Disaster — Reaction, Dilemma, Decision
As you string these together, you start a virtuous cycle of fascination and tension, an engine that drives the reader inexorably through the story. This smoothly-running engine can roar like a rocket or coast along at cruising speed, as the pace of the story varies, but if you can keep it running without interruption, you’ve got what’s called a “page-turner” on your hands. You have learned how to structure a book that your reader can’t put down.
Again, this is a scene-by-scene story rhythm that just works. It isn’t a formula, because every author will implement it differently. Your reader won’t “see” this Scene/Sequel structure because you’ll clothe it in characters, setting, thoughts, emotions, dialogue and action. Your reader will see and hear what you describe to them; they won’t notice the story structure you’re using.
Unless, of course, you don’t have one, or you deviate from the Scene/Sequel cycle in a distracting way. Then they will indeed miss the smoothly-running engine, even though they won’t know what exactly has gone wrong. Every passionate reader of fiction, regardless of genre, is familiar with the thrilling purr of well-structured storytelling even though almost none of them would recognize the machinery if they peeked under the hood. But readers don’t need to understand the mechanics of story structure to know immediately when it has stalled on them. Very few readers are willing to push your story along to the next service station. Now that you know the secret, you won’t do that to them anymore!
Nic Nelson started following Jesus early in college and has found it difficult to keep up with the fellow. It’s more like hurtling headlong from one impossible challenge to another, involving widely varied failure and just enough triumph to keep him sane. Which is probably just how Jesus intended it. Oh, and for the past fifteen years he has been helping authors to “write well and publish wisely.” Since clients keep coming despite Nic’s complete lack of advertising acumen, and they keep saying nice things about him when he isn’t around, he seems to do this pretty well.
