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This is Elizabeth Stark in the Book Writing World. Welcome to Plan Your Book, Week 9. Today we are going to talk about Aristotle’s Incline.
Aristotle’s Incline represents a basic plot structure. There are lots of counter-structures, but if you look in your favorite books, you will probably find that this skeleton is in there somewhere. Skeleton is a good analogy, because we each have very similar skeletons and yet are very different people. In the same way, our books can have the same inner structure or shape and be radically different and individual.
It’s an incline, so the line rises and rises until the climax. This harkens back to the idea of “rising action” that I talked about last week in the lesson on causality and build. You want a steady rise in your plot. It will bore your readers if things taper off or unwind–if the stakes go down and the action lowers instead of rising. On the other hand, you don’t want your action to leap up five stories in a single bound, or it will feel melodramatic. Let it climb steadily, until we are embroiled in the complicated troubles of your characters.
Let’s take a look at the main plot of your book. There may also be subplots that weave in and resolve at various points along the way, but today we are going to focus on the driving plot.
Your characters have a world, a status quo: the way things are. Sometimes, writers take some pages to establish this. We know something is going to turn everything on its head, so we find it engaging to see how things are in the “before.” Sometimes we readers figure out the status quo as it’s unraveling. Based on the character’s surprise, we understand that usually when she gets the mail, there is not a snake in the mailbox, or usually when he leaves work, no one runs after him to invite him for drinks.
It is best if the catalyst that changes everything does not come from inside the character. Why? Because that begs the question, Why now? If he’s always hated his job and then one day, for NO EXTERNAL REASON, he quits, we will wonder: why now? If she has been unhappily married for thirty years and then one day, for NO EXTERNAL REASON, she leaves, we will wonder: why now? So this initial change should come from outside. It might grow out of the character’s actions and life, but it pushes him or her in an unexpected direction.
The end of Act I marks a threshold or reversal. See the arty swirls at those junctures? Those represent the turn that happens at those Act I and Act II junctions. Often the protagonist has been resisting change or resisting committing to taking on the challenge or journey presented by the catalyst. Here, at the end of Act I, that resistance often shifts, and he or she takes up the challenge, enters the new world. In screenwriting lingo, they call this, “Break into two,” meaning you break into the new world of Act II.
Act I usually runs for about one-quarter of a book. As formulaic as this sounds, when I was learning about it, I would open books I’d read at one-quarter of the way through and look for the turning point, and I usually found it somewhere right around there.
Now you are in the longer stretch of Act II. This is the next two-quarters of the book, more or less, and something significant happens right at the midpoint–the middle of the book. Often an intensification of some kind, the midpoint might be a love scene or a foreshadowing of the transformation that will take place. A moment of depth. If you think of Act II as a bridge, the midpoint is a solid cement piling holding up the middle.
Act II ends with another reversal. This can be a great place to set up the final, major dilemma for your protagonist. Remember, this choice must be between two irreconcilable goods or two irreconcilable evils. If the choice is between something great and wonderful and something terrible–it’s not really a choice. For example, “Do you want to take the poison or have a croissant?” The drama! The uncertainty! The plot!
Now we are headed into the home stretch. At the Crisis, the choice is made. At the Climax, it is acted upon.
Then all that remains is whatever needs to be wrapped up.
Answer the following questions. Please be sure that each answer suggests a concrete scene you can write during drafting.
What is the status quo world of your character before things start changing?
What happens to change–for good or bad–that world?
What happens at the end of Act I to reverse fortunes, turn things around, push your character out of the familiar world and into a new world (metaphorically or literally)?
What happens at the midpoint of your novel that intensifies the movement of the story?
What happens at the end of Act II that reverses everything again, forcing your character to confront a real and difficult choice?
What choice does your character make at the Crisis?
What does your character do at the Climax?
What happens at the end, after all that?
If you feel up for it, flip through a book you love or like. Just do the math: at one-quarter of the way through, what is happening? At half-way through, what is happening? At three-quarters of the way through, what is happening? What is the crisis, and what is the climax?
This is Elizabeth Stark in the Book Writing World. Happy writing!