Plotting, Pacing, and Crossing Over
By Anne Brown | May 4, 2014 |
Awhile back, I attended the three-day Story Masters Workshop, given by James Scott Bell, Donald Maass, and Christopher Vogler. I highly recommend it, and you can check out more information about their workshops here. Vogler’s expertise is movie scripts. One of the things that I found most interesting about his presentation was his 12-stage hero’s journey, which suggested that every well-plotted and well-paced story had a “crossing over” at approximately the 25% mark, and a “near-death” at the 50% mark. His case in point: Star Wars. At the 25% point, Luke “crosses over” by leaving his Aunt and Uncle’s farm, and at the 50% mark suffers a “near death” when he’s caught in an intergalactic trash compactor.
If you have read my posts before, you know how fond I am of mathematical approaches to plotting. You can check out my mathematical formula for kicking out a fast first draft here. Clearly I was intrigued by Vogler’s premise, but I wasn’t able to tap into the high-testosterone crime/thriller movie examples he was using: Casablanca, The Godfather, etc. Believe it or not, with the exception of Star Wars, I hadn’t seen a single one of the movies he cited. It made me wonder if the formulas he was promoting were as applicable to the Middle Grade and Young Adult fiction my kidlit colleagues and I were writing, as they were to the thrillers and crime movies he used as his examples. As a result, I took it upon myself to put his formula to the test.
I picked random books off my bookshelf, checked how many pages were in the novel, divided by four, then opened the book to the 25% and 50% mark to see if there was, in fact, a crossing over scene and a near death scene. In my not-so-scientific study, I looked at approximately twenty novels and, for the most part, Vogler’s markers held true. The following three novels were typical of the results.
THE FAULT IN OUR STARS by John Green (YA) – 313 pages
- Crossing Over: On page 78 (25%), Gus and Hazel receive an invitation from their favorite author to travel to Amsterdam and spend the day with him. Admittedly not the actual “crossing over” to Europe, but it sets up the trip which comes just a little bit later. I call this good enough.
- Near Death: On page 156 (50%), Gus and Hazel meet their favorite author and are crushed to learn that he’s a complete a**hole. This is such a major bummer, that it should count as a kind of death in anyone’s book (literal or figurative).
PRIDE & PREJUDICE by Jane Austen (Classic Novel) – 367 Pages
- Crossing Over: On page 90 (25%), Lizzie attends a ball at Netherfield Place and agrees to dance with Mr. Darcy for the first time, creating a “crossing over” in their relationship.
- Near Death: On page 185 (50%), Lizzie and Darcy have a “near death” in their relationship when he proposes, she refuses, and they part ways.
DIVERGENT by Veronica Roth (YA novel) – 487 pages
- Crossing Over: There is a dramatic crossing over in this novel when Tris leaves Abnegation faction and joins Dauntless. However, it happens a little earlier than Vogler suggests, on page 48 and at the 10% mark. This, I found, was most typical for YA–getting the character into their new environment/situation often within the first 30-45 pages.
- Near Death: On page 243 (50%) Tris learns that her choice to join Dauntless has put her father and her whole former faction under suspicion and potential attack, threatening the survival of their society.
But now what? How do you apply it to your own work? For me, I’ve applied Vogler’s formula in both my outlining and my editing. First, when outlining and brain storming the novel I want to write, I try to come up with all kinds of “crossings over” and “near deaths.” Here are some possibilities to get your wheels turning:
Crossings Over
1. Starting a new school or a new job; moving to a new country
2. Turning 18
3. Accidentally getting off an elevator on the wrong floor, only to come face-to-face with Mr. Right
4. Signing Divorce papers
Near Deaths
1. Fired from dream job
2. Kicked out of the popular clique in high school leads to 3 days locked in bedroom listening to emo music.
3. Main character doesn’t get the part she wanted in the school play causing her to question her purpose in life
4. Food poisoning from a bad clam puts Main Character in hospital and she has to miss meeting with important client.
Once I decide what type of crossing over and near death makes the most sense for my overall plot, I do my best to place these scenes at their appropriate markers. Then, after the first draft writing is done, I apply the same process I did to the books on my bookshelf. I count my pages, open to the 25% and 50% mark and see if my crossing over and near death scenes ended up where they were supposed to end up, or whether they got shifted during the writing process. On occasion, if they have been way off the mark, I have shuffled the order of my scenes to hit the targets. As I mentioned above, when it comes to kidlit crossings over, I let the marker drift closer to the beginning of the book.
The result is a well-structured novel that meets readers expectations when it comes to pacing, and that is a beautiful thing.
So what do you think? Let me know if you’ve got some more brilliant ideas for crossings over and near deaths. Also, let me know if you try this experiment with any of the books on your shelf and if your favorites hit Vogler’s markers.
Anne Greenwood Brown got her start as a traditionally published author of young adult paranormal and contemporary romance. Currently, she is a USA Today bestselling author of adult paranormal and contemporary romance (both traditional and indie) under the pen name AS Green . For more information see the Contributor tab. You can also follow her on Facebook , Instagram , and TikTok .
Ever since I discovered story structure, thanks to folks like James Bell, KM Weiland, Larry Brooks, I’ve tried to apply it to every movie I see and book I read. Interestingly, when something seems off in a story, I can pin it to structure. I know something should happen at the midpoint. If it doesn’t, or it’s weak, the story doesn’t work as well as it could have. Bell suggests a man-in-the-mirror moment at midpoint, especially for character driven novels. His recent short and easy to read book, “Write your novel from the middle,” does an outstanding job of explaining the differences. Regardless, something needs to happen at these milestones. My own writing has improved quite a bit since I started applying structure.
Excellent post! I’ve read a lot of Donald Maass and James Scott Bell’s advice, and I’ll be sure to look up Christopher Vogler. I’m also a huge fan of Larry Brooks and Blake Snyder, who have a similar model for story structure. One of my friends teaches a writing class at a local tech college, and she used Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Indiana Jones as examples … the kids were amazed with the consistencies of the hero’s journey. Although I admit that my family hates to watch movies with me because I’ve become pretty good at predicting what will happen next, and I can’t seem to keep my mouth shut ;)
Good post (although I’m a mystified at the lumping together of Casablanca and The Godfather!).
I’ve always been suspicious and leery of applying too many “rules” from filmmaking into novel writing because they are so different. That said, whatever works! In my mentorship with Grisham, his one rule is: hook the reader by P. 40 and I’ve held slavishly to that maxim.
It’s an interesting theory. I just did a little experiment of my own and found that Daphne Du Maurier’s Frenchman’s Creek could fit, and Neil Gaiman’s The Ocean at the End of the Lane, and my own novel. Nabokov’s Lolita and Leslie Marmon Silko’s Ceremony don’t, nor Tess of the d’Urbervilles or David Copperfield, as far as I can tell.
But in Frenchman’s Creek (spoiler alert…;-) ) , the 25% mark is when she has dinner with the Frenchman in Navron. The 50% mark is where she is with the Frenchman who steals a ship, so I guess you could say her life is in danger, but there are other points in the story which could just as well be seen as crossings-over (the first time she’s on the pirate ship seems to me a stronger crossing-over point) or near-deaths (when she has to go back to being the Lady St. Columb to entertain the men who want to kill the love of her life, when Rockingham tries to kill her, when she saves the Frenchman).
I guess what I’m getting at is that a character in a novel is constantly moving forward and changing, and every page and every scene should serve that development, not just those at the 25% and 50% mark. I think it’s an interesting observation, but I’d be wary of turning the observation into a writing rule. Maybe I’m not much of a plotter after all :-)
I would never have thought of applying percentages to determine where high points in the plot should go! Very interesting and many thanks for sharing.
However I would tend to agree with the previous commentator: there are many, many books indeed that do not follow this 25%-50% rule and a good plot structure, in my view, is driven more by the characters than any mathematical rule. Few humans are mathematical in their behavior! There’s an internal logic in the characters, a character arc, if you will, that must be respected and it may or may not hit turning points in the plot one quarter of the way or half-way in…
Thanks for mentioning Story Masters. Mathematical? Well, nothing wrong with seeing it that way. Ask me, it’s turns in the journey of the human heart.
Great post.
Absolutely. If the math works but there’s no heart – no story.
Yes, and my thanks, too, for the mention of Story Masters. It’s a privilege to teach alongside Don and Chris, and a kick to hang out with a cool group of writers for several days. IMO, “Crossing over” (what I call the “Doorway of No Return”) is simply that point when the “death struggle” (physical, professional or psychological) of the novel becomes inevitable. If the Lead isn’t forced into that struggle, the novel doesn’t have high enough stakes. And if it doesn’t happen by the 1/4 mark, the story starts to drag. (I actually prefer getting that doorway planted earlier in a novel).
Craft, like math, is our friend.
Great post. My heart is mathematically inclined as well :) That first turning point seems to be anywhere from 10-30% into the story but yes, I notice too, that around the 50% mark something dreadful happens. I like to think of it as the tentpole that holds the story up. In my own writing, I find the pace quickens considerably after that.
What an interesting post! I’d never heard this kind of mathematical formula before. Years ago, when I went to Bob McKee’s story structure workshop, I liked a lot of what he said, but resisted the idea that all successful stories are structured the exact same way. The 25/50% guideline really appealed to me, though. So I looked at my own novel, with only the tiniest chip on my shoulder and a generous helping of trepidation, to see how it stacked up. What do you know….. the crossing over happened at 30% (and there was even a line, “….no turning back now”) and the near-death moment happened at 50%. As a general idea, if not an iron-clad rule, I find these numbers very helpful. Thanks.
So interesting…I checked my published novel, What More Could You Wish For, and there is a crossover scene at 25% and a “near death” at 50%. It amazed me.
Now I have to check my WIP – maybe that’s why I’m a little stuck.
Thanks so much for posting this.
Isn’t it amazing!
at the same time… does this formula render fiction somewhat predictable?
do people use it because “it works” or because we fear experimenting and trying new approaches – especially on the scale of large markets? (or both)
do people know of other successful stories that don’t follow the model, but that work anyways?
Just asking because… er, not to challenge or say “NO WAY, You’re Wrong!!!” but because… well… I’m curious lol = )
There is a bit of predictability in story *structure*. It’s the characters and plot that need to bring the surprise!
I too take a mathematical approach to structural analysis, of others’ and my writing. Geometrical (exponential), though, rather than mathematical (addition and subtraction). I graph narratives, testing whether they fit a regular tetrahedron shape, though, actually, more stepped terraces than smooth faces.
On the surface this geometic formula writing can cause formulaic results. What nature these two of several dramatic turns represent — transition — have two crucial and fundamental identities: revelation and reversal. “Crossing over” and “near death” are both reversals caused by prior revelations and prior reversals. Or alternatively, reversals that cause revelations. Or both at once.
The ancients labeled these two principles anagnorisis and peripeteia, revelation and reversal, respectively. They as well as contemporary audiences praise these twists — turns — most when they are surprises: natural, abrupt, profound, and sublime revelation and reversal surprises.
I’ve graphed structures based upon these major and minor revelation and reversal turns. I locate more than two — thirteen, actually, in well-crafted short or long fiction or creative nonfiction or poetry or scripts.
Though a structural formula more or less universal, in all the many narratives I’ve tested by graph anyway, that does not necessarily mean the result is formulaic. Instead, how artfully managed is the natural surprise magic makes all the difference.
Coincidental, natural revelation and reversal antagonisms early on can be delightfully surprising, maybe essential for some introduction acts. Later acts, less so, if not confusing or the dread deus ex machina. A narrative may start off in familiar territory, and by steps escalate up the structural terraces, detour into ever more exciting surprises. Down the opposite terraced slope, still surprises; however, less detour, more direction toward finally, unequivocally, irrevocably satisfying a complication’s anatgonisms.
Nevertheless, turns ought best be natural, antagonal, causal, and tensional: multidimensional. Therein their artful, non-formulaic surprise magics lay.
Okay, I see where you are coming from.
I like what you’re putting-down.
I’m a strong believer in structure, and story arc. I’m a copywriter and a piece never gels for me until I have structure figured out.
But I’m not so much a believer in rigid structure.
Some people believe adherence to these sorts of formulas are why Hollywood is in such a slump. I’m thinking of the slew of articles last summer about how Blake Snyder and Save the Cat were ruining movies.
It would be interesting to analyze some good TV and see how this plays out. TV is beating the movies hands down these days when it comes to great storytelling and writing.
I do think of my novels in terms of turning points, and the midpoint crisis and such. I think that’s just ingrained in me from years of reading. Readers do have certain expectations.
I agree, Sheri. With all writing “rules,” they are a good place to start, a good guide. That is all.
I’m currently researching and outlining my third novel. I’m planning the loss of a dream job in Chapter 2. So the character’s metaphorical death will come before her crossing over to ‘accept the quest’.
That’s the current plan. However, I can easily imagine that an editor telling me that the loss of the job is an inciting incident that needs to be chapter 1.
I use Christopher Vogler’s book for all of my outlining, which is actually Joesph Campbell’s The Hero’s Journey. It’s been so incredibly helpful. I’m stuck right now with my current story – even though I did the outline. Feels like something is missing. I can’t figure it out yet, but I know once I get those key moments, especially the ones you mentioned in your article, I’ll be good to go. Thanks for sharing!
Anne–
Thank you for this useful, thought-provoking post. I am with James Scott Bell in preferring a cross-over moment that comes sooner than the 25% mark.
For me, the best novels offer so many moments of interest, of life being born on the page, that templates or formulas count for less. I mean that a writer can internalize a “guidance system” to help negotiate structure–and still never write a first-rate book. That’s the mystery of talent. But the odds of any book realizing its potential are always improved when the writer pays close attention to structure. I think that’s what JSB and Donald Maass offer to their students: no guarantees, and no booster juice for talent, but a very solid leg up. As a writer, I am indebted to them for that leg.
Holy Cow! I checked my book and at exactly 25% Star crosses into the Northern Territory where his execution is scheduled to take place on his birthday. At exactly 50%, one of his supporters is banished from the herd for helping him, a punishment worse than death for a pegasus. So it’s not his near death, but it’s related to him. So my question to you–does this mean I’m finally good at math???
Great post, Ann, thank you.
Dear Ms Greenwood-Brown:
I tested the statistical
assumptions against my most recently completed novel, *The Journal of Rudd*. While still in MS-Word format, the page numbers were off by a factor of approx. 2% – mine checked out pretty well.
My major concern, as an (as yet) unpublished novelist: does this not make for formulaic writing? (In self-defense, I was published as a technical writer/computer magazine contributor).
THANKS James Scott Bell for that marvelous title: Plot&Structure.
Keep creating,
Jack Bybee,
Author,
*The Journal of Rudd*
*Kimdog’s Tale (Tail) and other Border Collie stories*
*Climbing Beyond the Edge of the Ledge*.
So helpful! Thank you! I plan to apply this to my own novel and see if I make the cut and also to my current read, Bram Stoker’s Dracula. Very interested to see what I find.
Hi there!
I’m not sure if I find this very useful. I think that as long as a plot HAS these kind of experiences for the protagonist(s), everything is fine. But I don’t think one should limit oneself by counting pages or even re-arranging scenes. When I plot, I arrange the scenes in their most natural order. When I feel that I need a flashback because I need to make the reader understand what is going on/what the characters feel/why they act the way they do act, then I need a flashback and I need it exactly there. If that makes a 36% of the 25%, well, then that’s that.
There’s only one mathematic formula which I use for my projects: 4 sentences. That’s how long I give a story to catch my attention. If I don’t have a thousand questions I feel the need to have answers to, then where’s the point in continuing reading? So that’s exactly what I try to do in my first 4 questions. Trigger the reader’s interest. Make them curious. Because that’s what will keep them turn pages – no matter if I include a ‘crossing over’ at 25% or 30% or 40% or whatever page it is.
This is a really fascinating discussion. My first effort at analysing a book was when I was 15; I took an Agatha Christie apart. The only thing I registered then was that she’d got al the major characters on stage by the 25% mark.
My novel is YA and has a rotating viewpoint – it seems that each character has a crossover point very early on. The central crisis is certainly at the half-way point.
I think the formula works even for very short fiction for young children – certainly the Julia Donaldson books follow the rules.
Thanks for this!
I’m not familiar with Christopher Vogler, but he keeps good company. :p
The concept of the “crossing over” isn’t just that something or other happens that advances the story. The idea is that the protagonist starts out in the comfortable “ordinary world,” and then “crosses over” into the big adventure. I wouldn’t consider receiving a letter or dancing with a man a crossing over, or even close enough. The crossing over is more significant, like Bilbo Baggins leaving the Shire in The Hobbit, Pip leaving his childhood home in Great Expectations, or Harry Potter flying away from the Dursleys on Hagrid’s motorcycle.
The hero’s journey is a classic template, but it’s only one type of story. It works well for analyzing Greek mythology and building fantasy/adventure video games, but in books we can be more flexible. You won’t find a true “crossing over” in either The Fault in Our Stars or Pride and Prejudice because they don’t need one. They have inciting incidents and enough plot points to keep the story flowing without sticking to a formula.