Photo by Andrej Sachov on Unsplash
The recent work in this series has concerned essential characteristics and the character stack, which are interdependent tools. The characteristics help us understand why the character can execute the character stack. The stack shows how the essential characteristics function and are manifest through actions. Together, the characteristics and stack help understand how the characters behave and why.
In the day 70 post, I compared the character stacks of Jim Hawkins and Long John Silver to get a sense of how their similarities and differences create conflict in Treasure Island. In this post, I will return to looking at Norman Friedman’s “Forms of the Plot.” We use these plot categories to link character change to story structure and the events we use to build and assess our stories. For more information, see “Forms of the Plot” in Form and Meaning in Fiction by Norman Friedman (1975).
As a reminder, Friedman’s plot categories are fortune, character, and thought (see the day 48 post for basic information and examples). These plots show how the protagonist changes internally in response to the external conflict they face.
These tools serve two major purposes for us as writers. They allow us to deconstruct a story we love to understand what makes it work. They also reveal critical elements of the bridge we need to build from our story idea to craft a story readers will love. To become familiar with the way the tools work, we look at established story examples following Friedman’s process. Once we get the hang of it, we can use these plots to generate the maps of our own stories and check our work once we have a completed draft.
Friedman used four inquiries of a story’s text to settle on the plot form.
Protagonist
First, we identify the protagonist. This is the person in the story who undergoes a major change from beginning to end and the one who ultimately responds to the inciting incident in the story’s climax, which leads to resolution of the primary narrative question. This is typically a straightforward decision in stories that work.
Category Assessments
Second, we assess the state of the protagonist’s fortune, character, and thought at the beginning and end of the story.
What is the protagonist’s fortune (good or bad) when the inciting incident happens, and do we worry it will get worse or hope it will get better? For this inquiry, we are concerned with external events that happen to the protagonist, and through their response, whether we think them likely to succeed or doomed to fail. In the resolution, we consider their situation and whether it has changed for the better or worse.
What is the protagonist’s character in the beginning and how do we respond to it? We consider the protagonist’s motives and their will to do the right thing, and as a result, whether we find them sympathetic. We consider the same at the end of the story and assess how much, if at all, they have changed.
What is the protagonist’s thought in the beginning, and do we think the protagonist is sophisticated enough to understand their circumstances and the consequences of their actions? Here we’re concerned with how accurate the protagonist’s worldview or model of the world is at the beginning and if it changes, and in what way, by the end.
Primary Change
Third, we decide which of the three forms is the primary change for the protagonist in the story from beginning to end and how the other two forms are related. This can be a little tricky because as readers and writers we have our own models and frames that we apply when we’re analyzing a story. It’s possible for us to see most clearly in a story the problem we struggle with the most. We do our best to focus on the central question raised by the inciting incident of the story, how it’s resolved in the resolution, and why.
Friedman was clear that all three categories are present in well-crafted stories. External change will naturally cause adjustments in the protagonist’s fortune, how they value their own needs compared with those of others, and how they imagine or model their world. These categories are interconnected, but one is emphasized above the other two, which should serve the primary plot. The other two should support or contribute to that change.
Primary Emotion
Finally, we consider the primary emotion evoked in readers in the story’s resolution. Of course, readers may feel a wide range of possible emotions at the end of a story. But we’re looking for what’s essential. For example, does a basically good person suffer or achieve a good end? Or does a basically bad person suffer or achieve a good end? We tend to feel positive when someone receives their just deserts and negative when the consequences are unjust.
In the next post, I’ll share the plot assessment for Treasure Island as an example.
This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words.
At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.