Mapping Your Main Character To Plot

I had an interesting discussion with a friend of mine the other day. She was telling me about a friend of hers who she hadn’t seen in about ten years, and how different this person was from who she’d remembered. The reason was the sheer number of things that had happened to her between now and then, and how much she had grown in the process.

Sound familiar? It should. This is the classic formula for a main character in a story. The character begins with one viewpoint, and then ends with something different. The amount of difference depends on the person, of course, and a dramatic difference isn’t needed. What we need is realistic growth, which happens gradually.

That brings up two questions:
1. How do we know, really know, whether our characters grow?
2. How can we make sure that growth happens realistically?

The answer to the first question is relatively straight-forward. We simply look at the character’s viewpoint at the beginning of the story and then compare it to her viewpoint at the end. If they’re different, then we know she has grown on some level. The harder question is to know whether her growth is realistic.

I’ve read many stories where the main character is going along and going along, and then, at the end, *pow*, she ‘gets’ it. I can appreciate that. I’ve had my own *pow* moments, as have others, I’m sure. And, to us, it seems like it has happened all-of-a-sudden-like. But, really, it hasn’t. There were many factors involved, and each one changed us a little bit before that epiphany moment. We’d even begun to act on that epiphany even before it became an epiphany, but we probably weren’t aware of it. These are the kinds of subtleties that need to be woven into the story to ensure realistic growth, even when epiphanies are involved.

So, how do we do this? It’s definitely not easy, and it’s a lot of work, but it is possible. The best way to see it is to map your character's reactions to the main plot points in the story. Is the result some kind of growth? And, if not, is that okay?

In most cases, you’ll want some growth. Even a miniscule amount. My favorite kind of story is where the main character takes baby steps of growth throughout the story, and then takes a single, normal-sized step of growth at the end. Those always seem most realistic to me, and I identify with them better. That said, if the story truly calls for no growth, then there shouldn’t be any.

Laying out the plot and mapping your character’s growth to it will allow you to see the character’s arc clearly, and then you can change it if it doesn’t fit the needs of the story. It’s a lot of work, but you will have a much deeper, more rounded story in the end.

22 Rules of Storytelling, Part Two

Last week, I went over the character-related items from Pixar’s 22 Rules of Storytelling. Today, I want to focus on the rules related to plot.

Rule #4: Once upon a time there was ___. Every day, ___. One day ___. Because of that, ___. Because of that, ___. Until finally ___.

This is an extremely high level diagram of how a story builds upon itself. And don’t let the ‘Once upon a time…’ opening fool you. This is an abstract (and simplified) way of setting up something fictional. First, you have a character, object, or event. Then something changes. Because of that, something else changes, and so on and so forth. The events of the story set further changes in motion, and the characters have to deal with these changes. In other words, everything happens for a reason and is absolutely necessary to the story. If there is no reason, it’s not needed.

Rule #7: Come up with your ending before you figure out your middle. Seriously. Endings are hard, get yours working up front.

Totally! When I sit down to write a first draft, I need to know where I’m going. Otherwise I end up all over the map and end up having to start over. I know you pantsers out there are saying ‘but I want to discover the story as I go!’ Well, you can still do that. Knowing where you want your characters to end up doesn’t take all the mystery of how they get there. It’s like taking a road trip with only a destination in mind. How you get there is up to you—with the exception of Rule #4: everything that happens must be necessary to the story.

Rule #9: When you're stuck, make a list of what WOULDN'T happen next. Lots of times the material to get you unstuck will show up.

So, so true. Brainstorming tactics like this often trick our brains into giving us exactly what we need, even though we took the long way getting there. I’ve done this many times, with great success.

Rule #19: Coincidences to get characters into trouble are great; coincidences to get them out of it are cheating.

Yes  yes YES!! Coincidences to get a character out of trouble makes it waaay too easy for them. If I’m going to stick with a character through the end of a story, I want to see him work for a resolution. But if the story ends because the bad guy forgot to add the key ingredient to his magic potion, well, I’m going to feel cheated. I would rather see the main character steal the key ingredient and watch the potion blow up in the bad guy’s face.

Next week I’m picking out the ‘rules’ that focus on revision. If that interests you, then be sure to stop by!

A Bunch of Articles on Plot

My blog is about three and a half years old, and in that time I've written over 500 articles and book reviews. 500! I never would have thought I'd have so much to say on the craft of writing.

Last year, several readers told me that they've enjoyed some of my older posts, but had stumbled upon them by accident because, let's face it, navigating older content in a blog isn't exactly fun. So, I created a page with a link to all my craft-related articles, and got many thank-you's.

But even that list has become cumbersome. So, I decided to try something new. I'm taking all my articles, sorting them by subject, and putting them into pdf form for download.

I just finished the first one, which is about plot and plot-related things like tension, conflict, pacing, etc. It's available for download on my website. I will gradually be adding more, though now that I have a format the rest should fall into place fairly easily. :)

Anyway, enjoy, and I hope this is something you'll find useful.

Planting Clues in Your Story

Last week, I talked about keeping your clues subtle. This week, I want to talk about how to actually put the clues into the story.

Planting effective clues is an art form. I see it as similar to a really good painting—the details and subtleties are what set it apart from everything else. But those details and subtleties are also seamless to the overall picture. In order to see them, you have to look for them, and you have to kind of know what you’re looking for.

The same is true in writing. The clues need to be seamless to the story so the reader doesn’t see them at first. Then, once the reader knows what he’s looking for, he’ll be able to find them the second time around.

How do you plant clues like this? Well, it’s not easy, but I’m going to try to outline the things you need.

First and foremost, you must know your story. If you don’t, there is no possible way to plant clues that hint at the outcome—because you don’t know the outcome. Outlining and planning is very helpful here, and will allow you to plant some initial clues that tie into the resolution. But don’t stop there. After you write a first draft, you’ll know your story even better. Then, you can go back and insert subtle clues that will create a stronger connection to the resolution.

If you’re not a planner, no big deal. Just keep this in mind: you should not start the clue-planting process until your storyline is stable. That means writing your first draft, and then revising until you’re happy that the big pieces are in place. Then you can go back and insert subtle clues.

This is just another illustration as to why it’s impossible to write a good story in one draft. :)

As you go back through your story to insert clues, think backwards: once you know the twist, then you can figure out what it would take to make it happen. For example, let’s say a teenage girl has a secret admirer. She thinks it’s one person, when really it’s another. So, what would it take for the real admirer to leave her love notes and gifts and such? Those are the little things you can plant early on so that the reader can make the connection toward the end.

On that same note, what about the non-admirer? What sort of clues make the teenage girl believe it’s him and not the real admirer? These are the red herrings that throw the reader off. Red herrings are a must! They add depth to the story, and make the connection at the end that much more satisfying. As with real clues, though, red herrings must be inserted with the same amount of care. If they’re too obvious, the reader will see through them. If they’re too subtle, the reader won’t get it and the connection will come out of the blue. Work backwards with the red herrings, as well as the real clues, and then weave them into the story. Make sure you keep them appropriately subtle.

What’s subtle, you ask? That is the million dollar question, isn’t it? :) As the author, you know everything. You know your characters, where they’re going, how they’re getting there, the traps along the way, everything. In short, you are biased, and, therefore, may or may not be able to figure this one out for yourself. If you can’t, that’s okay. That’s what your critique partners are for. :)

Last week, Natalie asked if I would list some books that I thought handled plot twists and clues well. It took me longer than I expected to come up with them, but here are a few:

Tangerine by Edward Bloor
Invisible by Pete Hautman
Inexcusable by Chris Lynch
The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time by Mark Haddon

Can anyone add to this list?

Trusting Your Reader

It’s difficult to surprise me. I have no idea why, but I tend to see things coming early on. It drives my kids nuts because they’re always trying to sneak up on me or surprise me with something, and 99% of the time I know what they’re going to do well in advance. When they do surprise me, though, it’s like they’ve been rewarded with a triple decker sundae, and they ride that high for the rest of the day. It’s very amusing. :)

I’m the same way with stories. Occasionally, I come across a story that I can’t come close to predicting, or even guessing at the outcome, and that’s my triple decker sundae. :) I love it when that happens. It’s such a thrilling surge of excitement and I can never stop reading. Most of the time, though, I can see where a story is going very early on. It doesn’t really bother me, because that’s usually the natural path the story needs to take, and I can still find plenty of enjoyment in that.

There are a few times that it does bother me, though, and the result is usually a desire to throw the book across the room. Seriously, it feels like fingernails on a chalkboard. Why? Simple. The early clues were painfully obvious and often repeated.

Your average reader isn’t stupid. Neither are reluctant readers. Laying down a huge clue in the beginning and then pointing to it with big flashing lights certainly sends the reader a message, but probably not the one you want. It says this: “See? Do you see this clue? Do you see how I’m connecting point A to point B? Look how clever I am!” The reader does not care how clever you are. The reader only cares about the story, and obvious clues do not impress us.

So, what does impress a reader? Well, I can’t speak for anyone else, but I can say what impresses me. And that is tiny, subtle clues that I miss the first time around. I want to miss the clues early on, and I get really excited when I do. Know why? Because it makes the second reading SO MUCH BETTER. It’s like getting two for the price of one.

Those tiny clues don’t go over my head. They go into my subconscious and allow me to fully enjoy the climax and resolution the first time through the story. Plus, they add another layer of coolness the second time. That’s when I say, all on my own, “This author is so clever! I want to read more of his/her books.”

The first step in creating that kind of reaction is this: Trust Your Reader.

What does that mean? Well, let’s look at the definition of trust.
Trust: –noun
1.reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.
2.confident expectation of something; hope.

In other words, it’s safe to assume/hope/believe that your reader will understand what you’re trying to say without any kind of explanation (quite frankly, explanations inadvertently insult our intelligence...not that I have an opinion on the matter...). Your reader will get it. If not right away, then eventually. Trust me. :)

Here are a few tips to keep that level of trust high:

1. Don’t go overboard. Big clues don’t do anything except give away the ending too soon. That defeats the whole purpose of reading a book. Also, don’t repeat yourself. The reader will get it the first time, even if the clue is small. If he doesn’t, it’s still not a big deal because he will definitely get it the second time, and it will raise his enjoyment level of the second reading. Bonus: he will think you’re super clever.
2. Rely on character’s actions (both obvious and subtle) rather than loading the reader down with information. The reader doesn’t need to know everything at once, and we certainly don’t need to be told what’s happening. We can see the characters for ourselves, and, if they’re vivid enough, we’ll be able to glean what’s really happening.
3. Don’t connect the dots for the reader—let him do it himself, either the first time or the second. For example, I Am The Messenger by Markus Zusak has a great twist at the end, but the author then connects all the dots for the reader by explaining the how and why of the entire story. For me, that’s very off-putting. I got it the first time, thankyouverymuch.
4. Have faith in yourself, and don’t try so hard. In order to trust in your reader, you must also trust that you know what you’re doing. It doesn’t mean you’ll get it right the first time, and you may flail along the way, but it will get you on the right track. Critique partners are key here, and will help you find a good balance.

So, how do you plant clues that will keep your reader hanging on your every word? That's next week's topic. :) Until then, I challenge you to think on this:

As a reader, what impresses you when you’re reading a book?
As a writer, how much do you trust your reader?

Which Is Better: Plot-Driven or Character-Driven?

After the last couple of posts on POV and how that plays into plot-driven vs. character-driven stories, I realized that I’ve never done a post on this. Time to fix that…

What’s a character-driven story? What’s a plot-driven one? Which is more effective?

Plot-Driven:
Outside events are pushing the character into a situation where he must first react, then act.

Character-Driven:
The character’s internal change plays a larger role in his actions than outside influence.

Plot-driven stories usually have great pacing, tension that keeps you on the edge of your seat, and fantastic plot twists that make you yelp with glee. Character-driven stories tend to be a little quieter, but have rich and fully developed characters that feel like real people we want to hang out with in our own lives.

So, which one is better? Is it personal preference? The story’s execution? The talent of the author? In my opinion, neither one is better—they are just different. Which you choose to implement should depend on your story. It also depends on you, the writer.

When you sit down to start a new story, do you map out events, your character’s goals, or what’s preventing him from getting what he wants? If so, then your focus is probably on plot. Or, do you figure out your character’s hopes, fears, quirks, and opinions? If so, then your focus is probably on character.

That said, this doesn’t mean you’re stuck with that one focus. I’m a plotter, yet my current WIP is character-driven. There are some twisty-plot-things going on, and the story’s catalyst is external, but the focus is mostly on the character and how she deals with everything. So, no one is destined to be one or the other. You can cross over to the dark side if you so desire. :)

In general, I think the most effective story is one that incorporates both character and plot. I’m all about balance in a story, and this is no exception. I love a good plot-driven story that takes me on a roller coaster ride of events, but I like it even better when the characters are vivid and real. I also love a good character-driven story where I connect on such a deep level that I forget this person is fictional. But I also need for interesting things to happen to that character. In other words, I want my cake and eat it too. :)

Where is your natural focus? Have you tried writing outside of that? If so, how did it go? If not, why?

You Can't Package Yourself With Your Book

Not too long ago, I had an interesting conversation on Verla Kay’s writer discussion boards about the book The Dust of 100 Dogs. A fellow writer loved the book, but I didn’t, and each of us were presenting our reasons why. It was a great conversation.

Then the other person said something really interesting. He said that the answers to some of my questions were in a Q&A in the newest paperback. I’d already seen that section and it hadn't changed my opinion, but right then something else in me went ‘huh.’ Was there a need for this Q&A section? As in, had these questions been asked so many times that the author and publisher found it beneficial to publish the answers?

If so, what does that say about the book? Does it say that the book was so widely popular that readers were clamoring for more information? Or does it say that the information in the book was incomplete, and this Q&A section was a way to fill in the blanks?

Personally, I think it’s both in this case. The Dust of 100 Dogs is definitely a compelling and popular book, and the readers loved it enough to ask about the missing information rather than toss the book aside. Which is great! I love it when books incite that kind of curiosity.

Of course, that begs the following question. Does this mean you should create a Q&A for your book?

My answer: NO. Absolutely not. Just because it worked for one book doesn’t mean it will work for all books. Especially for writers with no publishing track record. When we write down our stories, we have to make sure that all the necessary information gets into the text. Otherwise, we run the risk of confusing the reader with plot holes, unanswered questions, inconsistent character behavior, etc. Providing the reader with a list of explanations in a Q&A isn’t likely to keep him from putting the book down (because those are always at the end, and the reader may not make it that far), so we need to consider a Q&A, interview, or other appendix-like piece as a bonus. Not necessary, but something fun that will enrich the story.

We, as writers, have to do more than hook a reader. We have to keep him. In most cases, we get one shot. If we blow it, not only will that reader avoid the rest of our books, he will likely tell others to avoid us, too.

So, in addition to hooking an editor or agent, we also have to think about how we are going to hook *and keep* our readers. Here are some ways to do that.

-Any questions raised in the beginning of the story must be answered by the end.
-Established behavior in the characters must remain consistent throughout the story, unless a large enough (and believable) event can explain the changes in that behavior.
-Any definitions introduced in the story must remain consistent and coherent throughout. This includes the rules created in world building, as well as keeping the setting consistent.
-New characters or changes in the setting shouldn’t pop out of nowhere in the end. The reader needs some kind of subtle preparation, at the very least.
-Keep the plot consistent, and make sure your characters have valid reasons for doing what they do. Hint: ‘they need to do this because it gets them from point A to B’ or ‘because that’s how the story goes’ are not valid reasons.

How do we know we are doing the items listed above effectively? The best and easiest way to tell is when your critique partners give you feedback. Do they have questions? Did they find something confusing? Did they misunderstand certain parts of the story, or a character’s actions?

If you find yourself saying ‘that’s because of xyz,’ or feel that you need to 'defend' your story, STOP. Write down what your critique partner is saying and then go through your manuscript to see if you can figure out how she got to where she did. Then figure out a way to fix it and give it back to her to see if it clears things up. If it does, great! If not, try again.
Lather, rinse, repeat. :)

Who said writing a book was easy, anyway? :)

Too Many Cooks in the Kitchen or a Well-Run System of Chefs?

Sorry for the lateness of this post. After I finish a draft, I always take a ‘vacation’ from my computer for a week or two. I’ve had posts scheduled up to today, and I realized this morning that I never finished the one for today.

Anyway, today I wanted to talk about using multiple points of view in a novel. I see writers asking about this technique in forums, critique meetings, conferences, basically everywhere. The question I see most often is “I know it’s considered a no-no to use multiple points of view, but do I *have* to stick to just one person?”

This often prompts the same reaction from me. Why is it that a lot of writers think we’re not supposed to use more than one point of view? It’s obviously possible, because there are some great books out there with more than one main character. Two good examples are THE SISTERHOOD OF THE TRAVELING PANTS series and SKIN HUNGER by Kathleen Duey.

I’ve never been tempted to write a story from more than one point of view. Why? Well, to be honest, it scares the daylights out of me. More than one point of view means more than one major plot line, as well as more than one path of character growth. Also, the multiple plot lines and character growth need to mesh with the overall story, not unlike a series or trilogy.

But the most daunting concept in multiple points of view is that each character must have his own story.

For example, in SISTERHOOD, each of the girls’ experiences, reactions, and growth is unique. The threads connecting them are the pants, and the fact that they are spending their first summer apart. In SKIN HUNGER, Hahp and Sadima don’t even live in the same time frame, so their stories are so completely different. Yet, there is an underlying thread of magic, as well as two characters, connecting them.

Lisa Yee did something close to multiple points of view with her MILLICENT MIN series. It’s the same story told three different times, through three different characters. I think that if she’d put all three points of view into one novel, it wouldn’t have worked. The reader probably would have tired of hearing the same thing over and over, even though it was from a different perspective. Instead, she changed the main character with each book, retelling the same story, and allowing us to form a connection to each character. Very effective.

I think the reason a lot of writers think they can’t use multiple points of view is that it’s hard to do right. That is, it’s easy to head-hop from character to character so you can get every aspect of your story across, such as things going on that the main character doesn’t know about. But, is it *really* necessary for the reader to know so much so quickly? If the reader doesn’t learn these aspects of the story until the main character does, it creates a stronger bond between the two. Then the reader can feel whatever emotion the main character experiences, and the story ends up having a greater impact. It’s harder to write this way, but it’s also much more effective.

This is mainly why I didn’t care for the SEPTIMUS HEAP series. I assumed the main character would be Septimus Heap (since the series is named after him), but he didn’t even make an appearance until several chapters in to the first book. And, once he did, we heard nothing from him until the end. It left me scratching my head, and I never picked up the next book.

Anyway, I think Cheryl Klein said it best at last year’s SCBWI –IL conference: for multiple main characters, each must undergo his own change or internal plot. Otherwise that character isn’t necessary. So, if you are thinking of writing a story with multiple main characters, ask yourself this. Are you ready or willing to put multiple plots within one story, and then tie them all together? If not, then perhaps you have a single viewpoint story.

The Compound by S.A. Bodeen

Plot Summary: Eli and his family have lived in the Compound for six years. The world they knew is gone. Eli’s father built the Compound to keep them safe. Now, they can’t get out. He won’t let them.

This has been on my TBR pile forever, mostly because I was waiting for it to arrive at my local library. When it did, I snatched it up. And then devoured it in a day. : ) It’s a fantastic, fast-paced, sitting on the edge of your seat kind of book that I highly recommend.

As with all my book discussions, there are SPOILERS below.

Bodeen knows plot. Boy, does she know plot. She has laid out this story extremely well, planting clues that things are not well, and utilizing them such that I couldn’t put the book down.

For example, when Eli first mentions the Yellow Room, he does it in a natural way for him. He knows what’s in there and doesn’t like it, and since his story is for him, he doesn’t stop and explain it to us. This does two things. It shows us the kind of person Eli is – mostly concerned with himself – and it adds another level of suspense for us because we MUST know what’s behind that door. Very well done.

Bodeen does things like this with the plot throughout the story, which made it impossible to put it down and I ended up reading it in one sitting. And if I had to put it down to, I don’t know, go to the bathroom or eat or something, I was still thinking about the story and wanting to get back to it.

The characters were interesting, too. Even the dad. No one had been shunted into a category, even though the older sister tried doing just that to both herself and Eli. They were as complex as real people, and just infuriating at times. : ) The only thing about the characters that gave me pause was Eli seemed older than fifteen at times. Some of the things he understood, admitted to, and explained seemed well beyond his years. But there weren’t many, and it didn’t diminish the enjoyment of the novel.

Like LITTLE BROTHER, this is another great example of pacing. And it’s also an amazing example of a well thought out plot. Definitely get a copy and read it. You’ll be glad you did.

What’s the Worst That Can Happen?

When it comes to our stories, writers ask this question for multiple reasons. We need to stretch our imaginations to see how far we can take them. We need to examine our characters to see how far they are willing to go. And, we need to verify that the setting and situation can support these worst-case-scenarios.

We also need to assess the highest stakes a story can have. High stakes add tension, and prompt the reader to ask questions. Will the main character get what she wants? And how will she get out of this terrible situation? These kinds of questions keep the reader glued to the pages.

But how to you plant that kind of tension in a story, keeping the reader on the edge of his seat? Basically, tension comes from things going wrong, not right.

For example, a writer is on deadline and trying to work, but her five-year-old son keeps interrupting her, breaking her train of thought, making it difficult to concentrate. This isn’t a make-or-break moment in the writer’s life, yet the constant badgering raises the tension in that she has less time to get her work done. Depending on the writer, this could infuriate her to the point where she can’t get any work done, even after she’s dealt with the child. This raises the stakes such that she may not complete her work on time, which leads to stress from being behind and having all her regular responsibilities on top of everything. Sound familiar? :)

Tension can come from anywhere: The main conflict in the story. The complications that arise in the story. Outside influences that are beyond the main character’s control. Neuroses that the character puts upon himself. Other characters. Natural disasters. Global warming. You name it. If it’s going wrong, it’s going to add tension to your story. Just don't overdo it, and make sure that tension stays realistic. : )

But there is one area of things going wrong that does not create tension.

Tension does not come from the main character making contrived or uncharacteristic choices. The reader can (and will!) look back and see how the result of that choice could have been avoided. Readers are good at 'back seat driving,' so to speak. They say things like "I never would have done something so stupid." Or "Duh! Didn't she know long ago that this would happen?" and then all your sympathy for your main character goes out the window. It can take the reader from the edge of the seat to off the seat entirely, setting the book down in the process.

When I examine tension, I start with myself. What’s going on in my life that’s causing tension? Money? Child care? Rejections? My son bothering me while I'm trying to write this post? There is always something, because life is never perfect. And looking at what’s going on in my life can help me get a handle on what might be going on in my characters’ lives.

How do you bring tension into your stories?

The Character of Plot

The last, but certainly not least, speaker I’m going to cover from this year’s Prairie Writer’s Day conference is editor Cheryl Klein, of Arthur Levine Books. She discussed plot, both from the aspect of the story and characters.

She said story is what happens. Plot is the structure which gives the action shape and meaning. In other words, story is a sequence of events, and plot is the larger change that happens through those events. This happens through both the external and internal plots.

External Plot: change in circumstances via action. These are the challenges that are presented to the main character from the outside. Entertainment comes from this aspect.
Internal Plot: change within the character. These are the challenges that are presented to the main character from the inside. Emotion and meaning come from this aspect.

Or, to simplify it even more...
External Plot: plot. As in, a major problem or situation is thrust upon the main character.
Internal Plot: character. As in, the character’s growth.

Ms. Klein really stressed how important the characters are to the story. She said you might have the best plot idea in the world, but without a sympathetic character to carry it off, she won’t be interested. Neither will most readers. Her fabulous advice is to start writing the book as if that plot didn’t exist, telling us only about the character to whom the plot will happen – after all, the character doesn’t know what’s going to happen, so why should we? This will show us more of the character and what he wants, which will ultimately add to the plot.

She went on to define different types of plot.
Conflict: One character vs. another character, or one character vs. herself
Mystery: a story where the characters need a piece of information
Lack: a story where a character needs something to be complete and live a full life

She said that good plots often have more than one of these types of plot going on at the same time. That you SHOULD have more than one plot in your book, since novel is a window into a real life and nobody has only one thing going on at a time.

As far as pacing goes, she said at least one plot event must happen per chapter. Or, your character must make at least one choice. The Lightening Thief is a good example.

On Frame Stories, where a story happens within another story, i.e. The Princess Bride. A change must happen in both stories, otherwise the one without the change isn’t necessary.

On a similar note, for multiple main characters, each must undergo his own change or internal plot. Otherwise that character isn’t necessary.

She said much, much more, but I’d be here forever if I relayed everything so I will stop here. Often, Ms. Klein puts notes from her talks on her website, cherylklein.com. This one isn’t up yet, but she’s got some other good notes on plot. This is one lady who loves to talk Plot, so I recommend checking them out if you haven’t already.

The Devil’s in the Details...

Last week, we laid out the overall shape and structure of plot based on the reader’s reaction. This week, I want to look at the details that bring the structure to life. Starting, unsurprisingly, at the beginning.

When should plot begin?
This is a question I’ve heard asked a thousand times over. And the answer? Immediately. In its simplest form, the main plot is introduced on page one via the characters, situation, and setting. If there is anything about the characters, situation, or setting that doesn’t relate to the main plot, then the story has begun too early. On that same note, the story might begin in a manner that relates to the main plot, but then could veer into unrelated territory. I.E. too much backstory, character pondering, irrelevant incidents, etc. If this is the case, then the story might either need a new beginning, or simply be tightened up.

What about subplots? When should they begin?
That, of course, depends on the subplot and how it relates to the main plot. In other words, the best place to begin a subplot is when it makes the greatest impact in the story. Vague, I know. :)

The way I see subplots is this: they’re what round a story out, showing the reader the main plot from as many different angles as possible. For example, the main plot in THE ADORATION OF JENNA FOX is her journey to discover her heart and soul. One of the subplots is the heartless neighbor boy who relishes in violence. When these two plotlines are put together, Jenna’s journey becomes fuller, richer, and more heart-rending. Yet they are separate stories, tied together by a single thread. I think good subplots will enable the reader to make stronger connections to both the story and the characters. Therefore, they must be at least distantly related. If it’s not, then why bother?

Then how about plot twists? How many is too many?
I’m not sure there’s a magic number for plot twists. The best number is whatever works for your story. If it needs a zillion, then give it a zillion. Just make sure the reader isn’t going to get dizzy in the process...

Personally, I love plot twists. But only if they’re well done. I don’t want to see it coming from three chapters away. Not even three pages away. I don’t want to see it until I’m at most one page away, better if I don’t see it at all. But I never want to be asking myself "where did that come from?"

So, what makes a good plot twist?
That’s a good question. And a hard one. It’s hard not to say “it depends on the story,” which I’ve been saying way too much in this post. But, in general, a good plot twist will turn the story’s direction upside down while keeping the characters and situation true to themselves.

Twists are not sudden – often times there’s been subtle clues planted up to the twisting point, but the reader may not have picked up on them until after the fact. Twists don’t shift people out of character, either. If the twist requires a change in one of the characters, then that change has been subtly happening for many pages. I’ve read many a book where the big twist came out of nowhere and I was left scratching my head. I want to be able to see it coming, even if I don’t see it the first time. Especially if I don’t see it the first time, because then I’m guaranteed to go back and read the story again. What author wouldn’t want that?

Finally, what makes a good plot?
That’s a doozy of a question. Because, really, good plot is good structure, good subplots, good twists, good characters, good tension, good situations, etc. all rolled up in one. See? Doozy.

The Bare Bones

Plot has always been the hardest writing concept for me to grasp. Every time I would try to nail down exactly what Plot is in explainable terms, which is something I’ve been doing for some time now, all kinds of unexpected things emerged: fully developed characters, pacing, conflict, tension, character growth, trusting your reader, evoking emotion, etc.

This left me scratching my head. So I looked at what experts said about plot, and they came up with pretty much the same thing: Plot doesn’t appear as an entity unto itself. It appears as a manifestation of all these other aspects of writing. The ones listed above.

The only thing that seems to belong to Plot alone is the overall shape and structure of a story. The best way I’ve seen to explain this is to do it via the reader’s reaction.

Last year, I took a six-week workshop with Esther Hershenhorn, regional advisor for the Illinois chapter of SCBWI. She laid out a reader’s reaction in five simple, genius, steps:

1) “Oh.”
This is the story’s beginning. The reader is curious about the story, the characters, the setting or situation, etc. Something has caused the reader to pick up the book and begin to read, because he is curious what kind of story this is.

2) “Oh my...”
This is at the transition from the beginning to the middle. By now, the reader is hooked, interested, and has been pulled into the story. If he’s in a bookstore or library, he’d probably tuck it under his arm so he can take it home to finish.

3) “Oh dear!”
This is the story’s middle. The reader has gotten this far because he wants to know what’s going to happen. He likes the characters, and he likes what’s happened so far. If he set the book down for whatever reason, he’d come back to it because he wants to.

4) “OH NO!”
This is the transition from middle to end. At this point, the reader needs to know how this is going to end. If the phone rang or someone knocked at the door, he’d get irritated because it’s pulling him out of the story. And, once that distraction is gone, he’d go right back to it. If he’s being seriously needy, he might simply ignore the phone or the door.

5) “Oh yes!”
This is the ending, or resolution to the story. Your reader is left with a sense of satisfaction. The characters are where they should be, and loose ends have been tied up. If your story has been really effective, the reader may feel inspired, illuminated, or even feel the need to take some action based on what he’s read. Or, he may simply feel the need to open it back up and start it all over again.

Say your story has this structure. Is it enough? Yes...and no. In order for this structure to be truly effective, you also have to have fully developed characters, pacing, conflict, tension, character growth, trusting your reader, evoking emotion, etc. As with all parts of writing, having one good piece isn’t enough. They all must be good.

This is the overall picture of a story’s structure, but there are details within that play vital roles. Things like subplots, twists, subtleties, clues, etc. This post is already too long, so I’ll delve into these next week. In the mean time, happy plotting!

Sequels of Sequels

There are many book sequels and series on the shelves that are doing well: Twilight, Inheritance, Gossip Girls, The Vampire Diaries, Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, The Keys to the Kingdom, Tom Swift, Gemma Doyle, Uglies, etc. A series is a set of stories that has no foreseeable end. Each story is pretty stand-alone, has the same core set of characters, and, when the book ends, the story ends too. If you read them out of order, they still make sense for the most part.

Sequels are different. Each book relies heavily on the previous installments, and it’s difficult to understand what’s going on if you pick up a book at random. Because of this, writing sequels, especially trilogies and such, is really tough. Essentially, you’re writing one HUGE story, and breaking it up into manageable chunks.

This also means that you have multiple storylines to manage: the bigger, overall storyline, plus each of the smaller storylines that create the larger one. If you want to write an effective trilogy, or quartet, or even a septet like Harry Potter, you need to know your overall storyline. And, you need to keep it consistent from beginning to end. If there are inconsistencies, readers will notice.

For example: THE SWEET FAR THING is the final book of the Gemma Doyle trilogy. A few things were revealed in this book that did not mesh with the previous two: Pippa's transformation, and Felicity's secret. Of the two, Felicity’s secret was the biggest shock. SPOILER WARNING: Not once was there anything to hint at the relationship between Pippa and Felicity in the first two books. In fact, they painted the opposite picture. Felicity sneaks around and constantly steals kisses from one of the gypsies. Plus, Pippa creates a gorgeous, fawning young prince when she’s in the realms, and she never grows tired of him. In fact, she chooses to stay with him rather than go back to the real world to be with Felicity. These kinds of things start the reader down a certain path with a certain frame of mind. So, when their relationship was revealed, it was jarring because it didn’t mesh with everything else we’d read.

A similar thing happens with Pippa’s transformation. In the first two books, it’s made clear that any human soul who stays in the realms too long will become corrupted. Then, suddenly, we’re told that they can choose not become corrupted. That Pippa has a choice. Here, the author has broken a rule that she established early on. SPOILER WARNING: In the end, Pippa becomes corrupted. But it’s because she chooses not to try, not because it was inevitable. If this is where the author wanted to take the story, then the souls-will-be-corrupted rule shouldn’t have been so absolute. At the very least, an uncorrupted soul could have been living in the realms, as proof that if Pippa had only tried, she could’ve remained herself.

While you’re keeping track of all these larger story ideas, you still have to keep track of the smaller ones, too. Each of these needs to have its own story arc, while keeping consistent with the larger story. A good example of this is the UGLIES trilogy by Scott Westerfeld. Each book, UGLIES, PRETTIES, and SPECIALS, is a story of its own. UGLIES is all about Tally being ugly. PRETTIES is all about Tally being pretty. SPECIALS is all about Tally being special. Yet it’s clear there’s more to these stories, that there’s a larger picture somewhere, which gets resolved in the final book.

I realize this is a lot of work. But if you let these details slide, you run the risk of alienating your readers. Both with this story, and with future ones. I, for one, don’t want to take that risk.

Skin Hunger by Kathleen Duey

Plot Summary: Sadima lives in a world where magic has been banned, leaving poor villagers prey to fakes and charlatans. But vestiges of magic are hidden in old rhymes and hearth tales and in people like Sadima, who conceals her silent communication with animals for fear of rejection and ridicule. When rumors of her gift reach Somiss, a young nobleman obsessed with restoring magic, he sends Franklin, his lifelong servant, to find her.
Centuries later, magic has been restored, but it is available only to the wealthy and is strictly controlled by wizards within a sequestered academy of magic. Hahp, the expendable second son of a rich merchant, is forced into the academy and finds himself paired with Gerrard, a peasant boy inexplicably admitted with nine sons of privilege and wealth. Only one of the ten students will graduate -- and the first academic requirement is survival.

I picked up this book because it was a National Book Award Finalist, and because of all the fabulous author blurbs on the cover. I usually love what the National Book Awards select, so I opened the cover with excitement. Then, after chapter three, I set it down and almost didn’t pick it back up.

This is rare for me. Once I start a story, I’m obsessive about finishing it even if I don’t like it. I do this because I believe that I can learn something from all stories, even if they’re poorly constructed or just not my taste. It’s really saying something if I set a book aside. That said, let’s continue.

As with all my book discussions, there are SPOILERS below.

In chapter three, we see the birth of Sadima. Her brother, Micah, has gotten a magician to help their mother with the birthing process, but the magician is a greedy, cruel, heartless old woman. First, she charges an outrageous fee for her services (the family’s entire savings plus the mother’s inheritance). Then, once Sadima is delivered, she drops the baby on the floor, lets the mother bleed to death, stuffs her bag with all the valuables she can find, then tells Micah and his father that Sadima and their mother should be left alone to rest – all so she can make a clean getaway with her stolen goods. Hours later, Micah’s father finally peek in to the bedroom to check on the new addition to their family, only to find his dead wife covered in dried blood, and his new daughter near death on the floor. I cannot imagine walking into anything worse.

I’m a mom, so I’m highly sensitive to children being put in harm’s way. More so when that harm comes from selfishness and a blatant disregard for responsibility. So this scene hit me really, really hard. I set the book down, then had nightmares about my own children being chased by a cackling old woman. Not pleasant. Moving on...

Anyone who knows me should know that I don’t shy away from showing harsh reality in my stories. Harsh things DO happen in life, and sometimes it necessary to see them. Key word here: necessary. So, with the assumption that I would learn why I needed to see such a heart-rending, horrifying scene, I picked the book back up.

The story is told from two different characters, Hahp and Sadima, in two different time periods, present and past. The chapters alternate, Sadima telling her story and Hahp telling his. Each story is separate – Sadima’s doesn’t further Hahp’s, and vice versa. Which is fine, except for two things.

1) The old woman who delivered Sadima never reappears in the story. It seems that her only purpose was to show how she’d turned Sadima’s father into a reclusive, spiteful person. Which would be fine, except that this happens at the beginning of the story. We didn’t get the chance to really know Dad’s character beforehand, therefore we don’t see the change. Which makes showing the effect of losing his wife unnecessary.

Another purpose might be to show us the horrifying state of the current magicians. Which would work fine if there were more magicians swindling innocent folk. But the only person we see doing this is the old woman, and one person doesn’t reflect the state of an entire group of people.
Because of this, I’m not seeing the necessity of seeing Sadima’s birth. I think the story started too early, and that the real beginning is in Sadima’s teen years when she first encounters Franklin.

2) Sadima’s and Hahp’s stories are completely separate. If you pulled them apart and read each separately, they wouldn’t feel incomplete. Their stories develop the same as if they were in a book of their own: we’re introduced to the characters, we get to know them, they start on a journey toward the big conflict, etc. Which is fine, except we never get to the big conflict. Both Sadima and Hahp build up a hatred for their current situations, dreaming of leading different lives. Once they both decide it’s time to act, the story ends.

Ms. Duey is a talented writer. She wrenched emotions from me that only vivid, sympathetic characters could manage. Her words pulled me in to her world and made me care about it. Then she took me on this emotional roller coaster, cranked me up to the top of the tallest drop, and left me there. That drove me absolutely crazy, and I wanted to hurl the book across the room screaming “That’s IT?”

I’m wondering why both Sadima’s story and Hahp’s story needed to be told simultaneously. By the end of the book, I felt like I had just gotten to know them, and then the story ended. Why couldn’t we first read Sadima’s whole story, then read Hahp’s whole story? I don’t see the need for them to be heard at the same time. Granted, I don’t have all the information – I don’t know where the story is going or how it will end. Maybe there’s a reason that we needed to see Sadima’s birth. Maybe there’s a reason we needed to feel so much sympathy for Sadima’s brother and father, even though they dropped out of the story. Maybe there’s a reason we needed to see Hahp and the other boys repeatedly mistreated, but not see any other parts of the academy. If so, I think these reasons need to come sooner.

I know it sounds like I hated this book, but I didn’t. The story’s premise is very unique and intriguing, and I really do want to know what happens. I know this is the first in a planned trilogy, but I’m just not a fan of being left hanging for a few years. I think that a different structure would have made this story more powerful and effective, leaving me perfectly happy to wait for more.

Then again, this book was nominated for the National Book Award, so maybe I just don’t get it. If anyone else does, please enlighten. :)

Pacing the Floors, er...Story

Story Pacing. That thing that keeps the reader from getting bored. The most common definition is to keep the plot from meandering. The main character must stay on task, the story shouldn’t introduce unnecessary characters or places, and the scenes and conversations should be relevant and succinct.

That’s great and all, but what does it mean? I’m going to answer that with another question. Is each person or place in your story necessary? If so, how is it necessary? What will fall apart if you remove one of these items? If the answer is nothing, then it may not be necessary. It’s the unnecessary things that bog things down, take the story to irrelevant places, and make it feel too drawn out, even boring. This sounds a lot like creating a strong plot, but plot and pacing go hand in hand. If you have a good, solid plot, chances are you’re going to have good pacing as well. For the big picture, anyway...

But what about the details? Those can have just as much of an effect on pacing as plot can. I’m talking about specific scenes and conversations between characters. Pick a scene and examine the direction it takes. If it took a different direction, what would happen to your story? If nothing, then perhaps it’s not necessary. If you’re not sure you can honestly answer this question, then do this with a published work that you feel has good pacing. Choose a scene, give it a different direction, then see how it would affect the rest of the story. A tightly woven story will always feel the effects of this exercise.

Conversations are a little trickier. The information in a conversation may be necessary to the story. But what about its delivery? Does the conversation feel too long? If so, the answer may not be to simply shorten it. Rather, take a look at what your characters are doing. Aside from talking, that is. Is there emotion? Body language? Gestures? Reactions? Action is what keeps things interesting. It’s also what moves a story forward.

This is partly why backflashes are so troublesome – they stop the story to “tell” the reader an important piece of information, then come back to the story later. It’s really easy to fall into this trap, and you don’t even need a backflash to do it. Telling the reader any important piece of information stops the story. Let’s look at an example:

Mark pointed to the tiny town of Statz on the road map. “See? It’s right here. There aren’t many roads on this map, but I’m sure I’ll find it.”
Jerry laughed. Mark was notorious for getting his directions mixed up. Once, he’d been trying to get to St. Louis and ended up in Chicago. His friends had learned the hard way never to let him navigate on road trips.
“Don’t call me when you run out of gas,” said Jerry.

In this example, the story stops when we’re told about Mark’s lack of navigational skills, then starts again when Jerry speaks. Rather than telling the reader that Mark is terrible at directions, show us.

Mark pointed to the tiny town of Statz on the road map. “See? It’s right here. There aren’t many roads on this map, but I’m sure I’ll find it.”
Jerry laughed. “You couldn’t find your way out of a paper bag, even if you had a flashlight and a pocket knife.”
Mark glared at him. “I have a sixth sense with directions, you know.”
“Oh. Is that how you in Chicago instead of St. Louis?” Jerry cleared his throat, hiding his grin.
“Well – that’s just–” His mouth opened and closed, like a fish. “That could have happened to anyone!”
“Sure,” said Jerry. “Don’t call me when you run out of gas.”

Here, we’re shown how Mark made an enormous navigational error, and Jerry clearly doesn’t believe him capable of anything better. This exchange gives us more insight into the story, the characters, and their personalities than the other version.

The same principles can usually be applied to backflashes. Bring the information out through the characters rather than setting them aside so the reader can find out something important.

Shift by Jennifer Bradbury

Plot Summary: Chris and Win (short for Winston) have graduated high school and gone off on a trek cross country. On their bicycles. It’s a dream trip for any teenage boy desiring freedom and fun...except that only one of them comes back.

I heard about this book on Jenn Hubbard’s blog. It sounded interesting, so I picked it up from my local library...then couldn’t put it down until I’d finished it.

As with all my book discussions, there are SPOILERS below.

This story is told in alternating time periods. The first chapter starts in the present: the bike trip is over, and Chris has returned without Win. Then the second chapter starts with Chris and Win first getting the idea, and permission, for this bicycle trip across the country. The chapters alternate, past-present-past-present, until they ultimately merge by laying out the whole chain of events.

I’ve read stories with alternating time periods before, and, most of the time, felt it wasn’t necessary. These stories were interesting, but didn’t NEED to be told in this alternating fashion. SHIFT, however, isn’t one of those stories. Not only is it amazingly effective, it’s the only way this story should be told. A linear story line would have made it average, even boring.

But Bradbury skillfully gives us information that furthers the story in each chapter. I mean, of course, the story as a whole. Not just that particular time period (past or present). If she had a question hanging from something in the past, she answered it in the present. And vice versa. This is NOT an easy thing to do, and I thoroughly enjoyed the thought and precision that went behind each chapter. Nicely done.

There was only one place in this book that gave me pause. That was the post card that Win sends Chris in the present. He sends it posing as a girl they’d met on their trip, dropping subtle clues to let Chris know it’s really him. To the reader, it is painfully obvious. But Chris doesn’t get it. Granted, he catches on a couple chapters later, but the way the post card was presented made me want to scream at him to turn on his brain – the brain that he says he’s been sharing with Win for the past ten years.

I realize that these things do happen, even to friends who are as close as Chris and Win are. And my guess is that the author wanted Chris to discover the post card sender’s identity at a particular moment. If that’s the case, then I think the post card should have been as downplayed as all the other ones he’d received. Since it wasn’t, the reader knows right away that there’s something special about this one. And we start looking at it closely, analyzing the details, until we’ve figured it out. Personally, I find it frustrating when I figure something out way before the main character does...but this was the only place where I had trouble.

The ending was really, really good. Unconventional, interesting, happy, and sad all at the same time. I don’t want to spoil it for you, but all loose ends were well taken care of. Much care, thought, planning, and work has been poured into this book. And it shows. Highly recommended.

Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher

Book Description:
Clay Jenkins returns home from school to find a mysterious box with his name on it lying on his porch. Inside he discovers 13 cassette tapes recorded by Hannah Baker—his classmate and crush—who committed suicide two weeks earlier. On tape, Hannah explains that there are thirteen reasons why she decided to end her life. Clay is one of them. If he listens, he’ll find out how he made the list.

As with all my book discussions, there are SPOILERS below.

Let me say, first off, that I really enjoyed this book. The writing was sharp and vivid, the Voice was clear, the characters were strong and compelling, the subject is interesting, and the story held me in such a strong grip that I couldn’t put it down.

But I didn’t love it. It kills me to say this, but I didn’t. It wasn’t due to a lack of talent, because, clearly, this author has a lot of it.

There is a discussion on Verla Kay’s Blue Boards about this book, and many people had trouble sympathizing with Hannah, the girl who commits suicide. I, also, had trouble sympathizing with her, and, in the end, didn’t really like her. But I was okay with this, because to sympathize with her could be to think suicide is okay. Even viable. And I will never see it that way. Therefore, Hannah and I will never be able to connect, and that’s fine. If the author did this on purpose, then I am incomplete awe.

There was only one thing in this story that gave me pause. Unfortunately, it was a really big thing: the tapes. I just can’t accept that someone who is planning to commit suicide would go through so much effort to record *everything* that led to her decision. Tapes like these are more likely to be a tool for someone who is trying to sort through what’s happened to her, so she can move on. But it’s set up from the beginning that these tapes are an elaborate suicide note that only a select few should hear.

As much as I wanted to, I just couldn’t get past that. Suicide is about hopelessness. Would a hopeless, depressed person have enough energy and drive to not only go through the time and effort of creating the tapes, but also reliving everything that led to her decision? I don’t think so. To be fair, I’ve never been one to give up, so I’m only guessing here. But it makes sense to me.

Without the tapes, there is no story. But with the tapes, I couldn’t accept the story. You see my dilemma… Still, this is a great story that deals with important issues, and I do recommend reading it.

And there is one thing I know for sure – whatever Jay Asher writes in the future, I’m going to read it.

Conflicting Sense of Conflict

A long time ago, I came across this post on agent Kristin Nelson’s website. It fabulously addresses the heart of conflict, which is that it’s always personal. It also introduces the idea of conflict vs. complication. I’ve been thinking about conflict a lot lately, and wanted to examine it further since it’s is one of the hardest things to identify in writing.

So, aside from being personal, what is it? Something that goes wrong? Something that gives the main character problems? Yes...and no.

From Dictionary.com
con·flict
Pronunciation Key [v. kuhn-FLIKT; n. KON-flikt]
–verb (used without object)
1. to come into collision or disagreement; be contradictory, at variance, or in opposition; clash: The account of one eyewitness conflicted with that of the other. My class conflicts with my going to the concert.
2. to fight or contend; do battle.
–noun
3. a fight, battle, or struggle, esp. a prolonged struggle; strife.
4. controversy; quarrel: conflicts between parties.
5. discord of action, feeling, or effect; antagonism or opposition, as of interests or principles: a conflict of ideas.
6. a striking together; collision.
7. incompatibility or interference, as of one idea, desire, event, or activity with another: a conflict in the schedule.
8. Psychiatry. a mental struggle arising from opposing demands or impulses.

A conflict has an opposing force, something that keeps the main character from doing what he must. And there has to be something that he must do, or there's nothing to oppose. Hence, no conflict.

Let's take a look at a couple examples: SPEAK by Laurie Halse Anderson and JUST LISTEN by Sarah Dessen.

SPOILER WARNINGS!!!

Both stories are very similar. Both revolve around the subject of rape. An actual rape in SPEAK, and an attempted rape in JUST LISTEN. Let's try to identify the conflict in each.

SPEAK: Melinda is at a party in the middle of nowhere, drunk, just before starting her first year of high school. One of the upper classmen makes a pass at her, leads her into the trees, and rapes her despite her struggles. She gets away from him afterward and calls the police - because that's what you do after you've been raped. Except she's still at this party, with lots of underage kids drinking, and they're not happy when they find out who she’s called. Chaos breaks out, and Melinda freaks out and runs away before the cops get there. Then she tells no one what happened, preferring everyone hate her for busting the party than say the words "I was raped" out loud.

JUST LISTEN: Annabel is also at a party, drunk, in the middle of her school year. Her best friend's boyfriend follows her into an empty bedroom and attempts to force himself on her. She resists, kicking and pushing and saying "no," but he is slowly overpowering her. Then her best friend walks into the room, and the boyfriend says that Annabel jumped on him. Annabel says nothing. She runs from the room, lets her best friend think the worst of her, and tells no one what really happened. Her best friend is no longer her friend, and most of the school assumes she’s a slut.

So, where's the conflict?

The conflict in SPEAK is that Melinda needs to tell someone that she was raped, but she can't get her mouth to form the words. She needs to speak, but the trama and pain of reliving the violence of her first sexual encounter are opposing her. From what I understand, this is common in rape victims.

What about JUST LISTEN? Annabel also doesn't speak. The source of her troubles is a misunderstanding that she didn't clear up the moment her best friend walked through that door. Is that conflict? Well, what must she do? She needs to tell her best friend what really happened. What's opposing her? …? Nothing. She just won't speak, and we don't know why. Is this real conflict? I don't think so. If Annabel had spoken up right away, clearing up that misunderstanding at the beginning, there would be no story.

A misunderstanding isn't conflict because it has no opposing force. It's merely a complication.

From Dictionary.com
com·pli·ca·tion
Pronunciation Key [kom-pli-KEY-shuhn]
–noun
1. the act of complicating.
2. a complicated or involved state or condition.
3. a complex combination of elements or things.
4. something that introduces, usually unexpectedly, some difficulty, problem, change, etc.: Because of the complications involved in traveling during the strike, we decided to postpone our trip.
5. Pathology. a concurrent disease, accident, or adverse reaction that aggravates the original disease.
6. the act of forming a unified idea or impression from a number of sense data, memories, etc.

Complications are frustrating, annoying, and can drive you insane. But they don’t set out to make your life miserable. Opposing forces set out to make your life miserable, because no matter what you do, something or someone will always be there to either prevent or undo everything you need to do. That’s conflict.

I hope I haven’t offended any Dessen fans out there...if so, please forgive. :)