Events & Resources

Dear Newbie,

I’d say try sketching it out in both directions, then have a think about exactly what you want the story to do. I read somewhere* that ‘the purpose of a story is to work up to its ending’. This may not be entirely true, but the ending is certainly where you want all the meaning of the story to collect, and be released for the reader. So two different endings will send you back to the beginning of the story, to plot two different pathways to the meaning you intend. Which means, with any luck, you’ll end up with two great stories, instead of just one!

– Sam

*I can’t remember exactly where, but there’s definitely an excellent chapter on short story endings in the first edition of Short Circuit: A Guide to the Art of the Short Story, edited by Vanessa Gebbie and published by Salt. The chapter is by Elaine Chew – put it on your reading list, Newbie!

Hello again, Newbie!

Novels are a different kettle of cornflakes – you could lose years of your life writing different versions, just to see where it’ll end up this time. Much better to take a step back and invest in some plotting, planning, and pre-writing.

The crucial question here is: why is your story pulling away from you and trying to do something different? Chances are your writing brain is trying to solve a problem that you haven’t yet spotted in planning and editing mode. I’d suggest this is likely to be something that’s insecure or undeveloped in the concept, world, or characters, and this underlying gap is diverting the surface plot from your intentions.

For you, I prescribe some long walks by the sea. Keep asking: what’s this story for? What is its essential purpose? That’s what you need the ending (and therefore the plot) to deliver. And if you get tired of talking to yourself, rope someone else in for a round of the ‘so what?’ game (see panel on right!). Enjoy!

– Sam

Dear FarmGirl,

I’m not sure that being sympathetic is a necessary attribute of all antagonists, but my guess is your editor wants a bit more credibility and depth in this particular character. Search your soul, FarmGirl! Is your aim to portray this dead individual negatively as a form of public revenge or private catharsis? Fair enough, I say, and a perfectly valid motivation for creating a villain. But the result may be a little too one-dimensional for fiction.

Step away from the page for a bit, and have a think about the job this character has to do in your story. Try mind mapping the antagonist’s role in relation to the story’s underlying concept, wider themes, and emotional journey. After which, if they’re still unremittingly nasty, then fine! At least they’ll now be fully earning their place in the narrative, and your editor’s concerns should be satisfied.

– Sam

Dear Spoiler

For a shortcut, you could simply break the habit. Make yourself write in the first person because, as everybody knows, ‘and then I died’ is going to be a poxy ending for a story. Or, if you’re committed to the third person, change narrative position so you’re focalised to a minor character who can carry the plot beyond the protagonist’s demise. To further halt your killing spree, try focusing on story ideas that need a deliberately long tail; endings of ambiguous possibility that resonate for the reader far beyond the final line. You might like to read the book chapter I recommended to Newbie earlier, too.

But if death is really your thing and there’s no getting away from it, you need to spend some time thinking about what it signifies in your work, and how you can best express that. Here’s an idea: you could take a walk with Newbie and play a few rounds of reciprocal ‘so-what’! I can put the two of you in touch! No really, I insist: it’s all part of the service.

– Sam

Dear Emily

Yep – lipstick on a turnip. Rearranging the deckchairs. Etc. Leaping straight to the line edit can do wonders for your sense of productivity and professionalism. Indeed, its most important role may well be to distract you from the yawning black chasm of something wrong, somewhere in the depths of your novel. Or at least it lets you put off the big questions for a while, because the more you polish, the more plausible it all looks, right?

Deep breath, Emily. If the structure’s ringing alarm bells then you need to forget about the sentences entirely for a while. Abstract it from all that tantalisingly fixable prose, so you can see it clearly. I recommend experimenting with maps and diagrams to visually represent the different structural elements of your novel. For plot, you could start with basic three and five act structures*. For multiple character arcs, thematic structures and the like, you’ll need to add different kinds of diagram. Look hard at what the novel’s structure is doing right now, and then play around with alternatives. Keep it all mobile and provisional while you’re experimenting. And if you need a productive diversion, take yourself to a stationery store and a toyshop. Huge sheets of paper, multicoloured post-its, felt tips, stickers and string are all extremely useful tools. Have fun!

– Sam

*There are many variations on the 3 and 5 act structure diagram – any search of the World Wide Web will give you plenty of options to choose from. But the most useful starting point (in my view) is in John Yorke’s Into The Woods: How Stories Work and Why We Tell Them published by Penguin.