Pausing between reviews (and other on-going projects) to think about how a plot needs to have some element of surprise. This might sound like stating the obvious, but if it was something I knew as a reader, it took me longer to work it out as a writer.
It started when a fellow writer commented that one of my drafts ‘lacked twists and turns’. He explained (referring to Robert McKee’s Story which – oops- I still haven’t read) that the idea is to create a set of expectations and then have the opposite occur. I think up till then I’d concentrated on building up a narrative, layering in subplots and constructing characters so that the outcome would feel right, ignoring the fact that the reader doesn’t want the obvious to happen. I mean in The Eiger Sanction (yes, a film, but the same applies) it would have been no surprise if the killer had been the German climber, but it was a heck of a lot better (though not for Clint!) that the baddie was in fact his oldest chum.
But there are surprises and surprises. If the author simply pulls a plot rabbit out of the hat – a device or character that hasn’t even been hinted at before, or could not at least in theory have been worked out by a super-clever reader, we feel completely cheated. So if our first reaction to the big reveal is ‘Oh no! How did that happen?’ the next one has to be ‘Oh yes, of course! Now it all makes sense!’
There is the odd literary novel that doesn’t rely on a major about-turn of some kind but for me something is lacking when the situation on page one more or less plays itself out to the end. The most ‘surprising’ book I can think of is Sarah Waters Fingersmith which had me delighted with its ingenuity from beginning to end, while The Night Watch left me wondering about a structure that gave us the end on a plate.
Crime writers are used to playing a game with the reader, dropping clues and red herrings to keep him guessing while staying one step ahead. But I think it’s pretty much the same for all of us. We’re all in a game, played to a set of unwritten rules. It’s not so much about winning as being a good opponent. We need to impress the reader, preferably with our own brilliance, or, if he crosses the line just before us, with his own. Either way he’ll relish the thought of a rematch. But if we fail to make him get a sweat on (or even worse, win by nefarious means) he’ll think twice about turning up again.
Great blog post. Your scenarios made me think of the stage play version of Blood Brothers. It begins with the end of the final scene where both brothers are shot dead. You know exactly what’s going to happen and yet it’s such a brilliant play that I’ve seen it three times. I can’t reconcile that with the obvious need to have an ending that the reader can’t predict. I don’t know how Russell did it but he broke those rules and created a masterpiece.
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Hi Ros
Yes, sometimes knowing the end in advance can work, but must be hard to pull off. Not sure my Night Watch was a good example.What irks me more is when the end isn’t actually foreseen, but is just somehow what the reader has been led to expect. (Hope that makes sense!)
AliB
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Hi Ali
Yes, subverting everyone expectations is a pretty good trick if you can pull it off. I can recommend Robert McKee’s ‘Story’, it stands just as well for novel writing as for films, I think, although it is huge. I did his 3 day course back in the 90’s and it was a pretty impressive tour de force. But the resolution that pops out of nowhere, is what McKee terms the ‘deus ex machina’ and is one of his cardinal sins.
Another example of the plot that starts at the end, is the film American Beauty, (written by Alan Ball) where we are introduced to the main character and told that in exactly one year he will be dead. From that moment I felt bodily dragged into the film, wondering who, what, will kill him. That was masterful!
Thanks for reminding me of all this!.
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Hello and thanks for visiting. Yes, I can think of a few ‘deus ex machina’ books that have really annoyed me, but I agree finding out how we get to the end can be a big draw.
Cheers
AliB
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McKee’s ‘Story’ has been my bible for a long time. It applies to film, flash fiction, plays, everything to do with telling a story. I learned so much about reversal of expectations i.e surprise, and subtext from his deconstruction of several scenes from ‘Chinatown’.
My other main enlightenment was his principle of antagonism. A positive value, the contrary, the contradictory and then the negation of the negation. e.g love, indifference, hate, hatred masquerading as love. Things get worse and worse as the story progresses. Upping the ante.
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Hi Paul – wondered if you might recognise yourself in this post. They did have lots of copies of McKee at BSU but they were always on loan!
Ali B
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I often think that a simple way to inject good surprises into writing is to make sure one has sufficient subplots – preferably ones that connect with the themes of the story. The twists and turns that spring out of creating further subplots often surprises the writer, let alone the reader!
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Ha – good thinking Nina, the more sub-plots the merrier!
AliB
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