Some Like It Hot
It’s about the noodles and the soup
I was once in a writing class in which the teacher casually asked us, “What’s the story of Star Wars?” A number of students rushed to answer, “It’s about Luke Skywalker, and he meets a Jedi knight who teaches him the Force, and then he meets Han Solo, and they save Princess Leia from Darth Vader, and then Luke and Han blow up the Death Star. Oh, and there are these two robots named R2D2 and C3PO, and Chewbacca the Wookie.”
The teacher listened patiently and responded, “That’s the plot of Star Wars. The story is about an orphaned boy who is trying to find his place in the world.” While maybe fairly obvious, the point stuck with me—story and plot are distinct elements, and it’s very easy to confuse the two.
If an audience falls into this trap it is forgivable, but it can be ruinous for a writer. When plot supersedes story, conflict and resolution seem arbitrary and not driven by the characters or the arc of events. As a result, the audience has to work to find a connection to the piece and often becomes disengaged.
Taking time early in the creative process to develop a clear understanding of the story and its emotional impact on the audience is vital for tight and impactful writing.
Prepare the soup and noodles separately
The story is the hook that captures the audience. It’s the central theme. The more a story is imbued with emotion, the easier it is for the audience to connect with the writing. In the example of the orphaned boy trying to find his place in the world, the audience can relate to the sense of loneliness, confusion, and longing to be part of something. All these emotions are elemental to the human condition and something we have all experienced at some level.
There are very few (if any) original stories remaining. Humans have been telling stories for tens of thousands of years, and we have left few stones unturned. Take the example of Star Wars, there’s nothing original about the story of an orphaned boy trying to find his way in the world—Theseus, Pinocchio, Oliver Twist, Peter Pan, the list goes on. George Lucas even copied the characters and main events from Akira Kurosawa’s The Hidden Fortress. However, setting the story of the orphaned boy “a long time ago and in a galaxy far, far away” gave it a new life for a new audience.
Plot then is the device that allows writers to flex their creative muscles and make old stories their own. It is the framework that defines and reinforces the story. The five key elements of plot are setting, atmosphere, characters, narrative structure, and the actions that drive the resolution of the central conflict (e.g., will the orphaned boy find his place in the world).
The setting is the backdrop for the story. It can be as simple as the specific location where a series of events unfold, but it can also be used to build the atmosphere—the overall emotional temperament of the story. In Star Wars, for example, a vast desert and the emptiness of space help magnify the sense of loneliness and discontentment driving the main character.
You don’t always have to be as blatant as science fiction. Atmosphere can also created by the style and tone of the writing. The Coen brothers put on a masterclass in writing style with their epic Chicago gangster film, Miller’s Crossing. The snappy dialogue and era-specific idioms immediately transport the audience into the Roaring Twenties and help build a deep connection with the main character as he threads an impossible needle between the Irish and Italian mobs.
Characters are the agents that drive the central conflict to its resolution. Characters can be people, animals, objects, but they need to push the plot along through actions or dialogue. A story requires at least one character, the protagonist. The primary agent that makes decisions and experiences the consequences of those decisions.
Narrative structure can be as simple as setup, climax, and resolution; or something more complicated and nonlinear such as Quentin Tarantino’s Pulp Fiction, which is told out of chronological sequence and from multiple viewpoints. To go back to the example of Star Wars, Lucas leveraged the classic Hero’s Journey for the narrative structure of his film. A structure found in many adventure myths, novels, and films. It’s worth noting that an unoriginal story (the orphaned boy) can leverage an unoriginal structure (the Hero’s Journey) and still yield an original result.
The actions that drive resolution of the central conflict are a result of the key decisions made by the main characters to try to solve the core struggle of the story. These actions should generally map to the narrative structure and are distinct from ancillary decision-making that might help build a character, but don’t drive resolution of the central conflict. In the Hero’s Journey they are often referred to as Crossing the First Threshold, Apotheosis, and Crossing of the Return Threshold.
Pour the soup onto the noodles
Story and plot ideation can be a bit of a ‘chicken-or-the-egg’ scenario. It’s not uncommon to have some elements of the plot envisioned prior to the full development of the story, but it is important to flush out the story early in the process. When the story isn’t fully baked, it can be difficult to use all five elements of plot to their fullest advantage.
The story should be easy to articulate—ideally in a single sentence. If it takes a paragraph to express the central theme and conflict, it likely needs to be tightened up. The more complicated the story, the more difficult it will be to construct a cohesive plot line. But that doesn’t mean a simple story can’t have complex characters, style, and structure. Hamlet and Moby Dick—two of the most iconic and complex pieces of literature in the Western canon—are ultimately just revenge stories.
Once the story is flushed out, the plot can be fully developed. The most memorable writing happens when all the elements of plot support the story, and the author introduces nothing nonessential to move the story to its conclusion. A common mistake for many writers when developing a plot is becoming too attached to their characters. Interesting supporting characters get elevated to primary roles that don’t fit the narrative, and plot lines extend past their natural conclusion. No matter how interesting the characters, the audience will start to lose interest over time.
Tight writing requires a strong sense of story and the ability to use all the elements of plot to support and drive resolution of the central conflict. And crucially, it takes the courage to end the story when it is over.
Text and photographs by Kevin McNulty.