Plotting the Non-Plot-Driven Novel

By Donald Maass  |  December 3, 2014  | 

Mass-1024x698Have you ever grown impatient with a novel?  Have you ever restlessly flipped ahead wishing that something would happen?  Of course.  It’s a common feeling.  Put politely, you feel frustrated.  Put plainly, you’re bored.

Perhaps your own current manuscript has also had you feeling, at times, impatient.  Have you struggled to find a way to make things happen?  Do you sense that the inner state of your main character is significant, but that it isn’t turning into events dramatic enough?  Do you secretly worry that your beautiful words won’t be enough to captivate your readers for four hundred pages?

If you answered yes then I have bad news for you: Your readers are going to feel impatient too.  Not enough is happening.   But what can you do about that?  In particular, how can you “plot” a novel that inherently lacks one?  Even more, how can you work alchemy when your process is exploratory, the opposite of applying a formula?

As a non-plot driven novelist your frustration can deepen when you consider classics and contemporary literary successes.  To the LighthouseThe Bell JarThe Remains of the DayWhite Teeth.  I mean, come on.  What really happens in these novels?  Almost nothing, and yet somehow it feels like everything.

There’s nothing wrong with writing about the human condition.  It’s okay to examine characters who are stuck.  You could say that about Holden Caulfield, John Yossarian, Jay Gatsby and even Scarlett O’Hara, all characters who are not getting what they want.  Yet writers like Salinger, Heller, Fitzgerald and Mitchell make it look easy.  It’s not, that’s how it feels anyway.

Fortunately there are ways to “plot” the non-plot driven novel.  It doesn’t mean creating an outline.  It doesn’t depend on the gimmicky formulae of quest, save-the-world, whodunit or love conquers all.  It does, however, require taking a break from writing pages and asking yourself questions about your main character.

First, recognize that what holds a non-plot novel together and what gives it propulsive force every step of the way are two different issues.  Tackling each involves similar questions but applied in two different contexts: in the macro-text and in individual scenes.

Second, let’s generalize.  If your novel doesn’t, and cannot, have a plot as such then you are in some way or other working with a character who is blocked, frozen, hamstrung, bewildered, wandering, lost or in some other way unable to become whole and happy.  There can be a range of reasons for that: internal, circumstantial, past or some combo of things.

It doesn’t matter why your main character is stuck.  It’s okay with me if he or she is.  Heck, we’re all stuck at times, even you.  What makes your manuscript a novel is that which ultimately causes your character to become unstuck.  The human condition by itself isn’t a story.  Change is.

The approach I’m recommending today plays off your readers’ feeling of impatience.  If you think about it, that impatience is expressed not only as I wish something would happen, but as unspoken questions like these.

Why can’t the protagonist just get what he wants?

Why can’t she simply talk it out?

Why can’t he just walk away or quit? 

Why can’t she simply change?

No, seriously, why not?

Now let’s adapt those questions in two ways and use them in two contexts.  First with respect your manuscript as a whole, reframe the questions like this.

What big thing could my protagonist do to get the big thing that he wants?

What big thing has to happen before the big conflicts can be talked out?

Not what, but who, is actively holding back my protagonist?

My character could change but before that she must do or experience what?

Your answer to the first question is the start of a solid premise, meaning the overarching thing which must done for your character to become happy and whole.  That Big Thing is the focus, in a sense the “goal” or “problem”.  Of course the Big Thing is not easy to do.  Step by step we can find out why.  That, really, is the “plot” of your non-plot novel.

Some problems could be talked out or walked away from.  When they can’t, it’s often because someone else doesn’t make that easy.  That other character, then, can become the focus.  That other character is the “problem”.  The “plot”, then, is simply showing the many ways in which that problem character makes it impossible to reach an easy resolution.

When simply changing would make a character happy and whole, it would seem that there’s no actual reason for that not to happen.  Honestly, there isn’t.  However, change is often unlocked by a cathartic release.  A big brouhaha breaks out what is locked inside.  The Big Brouhaha, then, becomes the focus.  Anticipating it, avoiding it, running away from it, orchestrating it and ultimately arriving at it are, step by step, the “plot” of your non-plot novel.

Now, it’s good to set in place a big thing to do, a person who is a problem or a brouhaha to be feared/catharsis to be desired.  But that’s only a bookend to your story.  The middle needs to be dramatic too.  It doesn’t matter which scenes you choose to write, what matters is that things happen in them.  For each scene, then, adapt our list of questions like so:

What could my protagonist do—right now– to get what he wants?

What’s getting in the way—right now– of talking things out?

Who—right now–is holding back my protagonist and how?

My character is avoiding herself for what reason—right now?

The key, here, are those words “right now”.  As I said, it doesn’t matter which scenes you choose to write.  Every one of your choices has buried in it the answer to one of the above questions.  That in turn leads you to what can occur to enact, show, dramatize and make outward your answer.  Something can always happen, simply identify why it must.

All story questions have answers.  That’s true because you have them.  When you’re stuck simply ask the very questions the reader is asking.  Demand answers—and watch things begin to happen.

What answers did you come up with?  What’s the focus of your non-plot novel?  What did you answer for the scene you’re working on today?

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58 Comments

  1. Ron Estrada on December 3, 2014 at 8:23 am

    I break out in hives at the thought of writing a non-plot novel. I actually have a template set up in OneNote to make sure I hit every step in my two-months of plotting before I begin. However, the thoughts given here have a place in the standard three-act plot. All of my characters have other goals besides the main story goal, as is true with most writers. We often have those connecting scenes between major plot points where we have vital information to give the reader, but no often exciting information. By using one of those minor goals and asking the questions here, we can turn a “filler” scene into a great scene. Thanks for another thought-provoking post, Don. By the way, I finally get to see you in person next month at the Capitol City Writer’s Conference in Michigan. Thanks for making January an intersting month!



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 12:56 pm

      Awesome. See you in Michigan.



  2. Deb on December 3, 2014 at 9:13 am

    Hi Don:
    This is a very useful exercise. I’ve been working on a scene in which the two characters have competing agendas. The scene kept spinning back on itself and then spiraling outward again, and I couldn’t think how to resolve it. But that’s the point of this scene, really. I’ve got two strong-willed characters who challenge each other, which is a good thing.

    But then this morning I realized I’ve got to bring in a third character, who has his own agenda, to break the impasse between them, thereby setting up a third level of conflict.

    So thanks for your help with that particular scene!

    I absolutely love your concept of the Non-Plot-Driven novel. “How can you work alchemy when your process is exploratory?” I’m so glad to be able to step away from some great save-the-world kind of quest. We can’t all be Jack Bauer — aka Kiefer Sutherland in 24, for those of us who don’t own a TV:-)

    You’ve got a character who is “unable to be whole or happy.” Yes, that’s enough. To force that struggling character to the point of change can bear the weight of a whole novel, as long as you keep asking yourself these “right now” questions. You mention Remains of the Day, which is one of my favorite novels, and which I turn to repeatedly for help. Stevens is hardly the man to save the world, but his inner journey is so excruciatingly rendered that it feels almost unbearable.

    I also love your brilliant new literary term, The Big Brouhaha. We can laugh at this, maybe, as critics, but if this Big Thing matters to our protagonist, then this Big Thing will also matter to our readers, if we just keep asking the right questions as writers.

    I called this an exercise, but it’s so much more than an exercise. It’s an ongoing, problem-solving literary strategy, and I thank you for it!

    Deb



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:12 pm

      Deb-

      I don’t own a TV so thanks for cluing me in about cultural icon Jack Bauer. (Now I must find out why he’s a cultural icon. The DVD set goes on my Santa wishlist.)

      Big Brouhaha is a literary term going back to the time of Beowulf. Of course, in Old English the term was “berserkr”. Meaning “frenzied warrior” it had the sense of crazy-out-of-control-but-for-a-good-cause.

      See, I don’t make this stuff up.



      • Steven Rogers on December 3, 2014 at 8:08 pm

        Correction: berserkr is Old Norse!



  3. James Scott Bell on December 3, 2014 at 9:40 am

    Just bring in a guy with a gun.

    Hope that helps, Don.

    I have not read White Teeth, which I assume is the autobiography of Joel Osteen. But I have read The Catcher in the Rye. And that seems to me to be a book with a series of “shattering moments” — shattering to Holden’s inner world, and to which he must respond (no response = no plot).

    So many great short stories revolve around small things that become shattering moments. Carver stories, for example. Heck, Hemingway. It might be interesting to think about these as models, and then the “non-plot novel” (I am breaking out in the cold sweats just typing that) might be a build of a series of these, with greater pressure each time.

    Or….just bring in a guy with a gun.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:15 pm

      Jim-

      It helped Raymond Chandler when he was stuck, so why not us?

      Well, except that not every story can have a guy come to the door with a gun. (Or wait, let me think…)

      I like the idea of shattering psychological moments. I suspect the set up is as important as the moment itself.

      Hey, that sounds like a craft post for Writer Unboxed. Interested?



  4. Rebeca Schiller on December 3, 2014 at 10:32 am

    Don, first it was great to meet you in Salem! Second, I bow to you, sir. The mess I brought with me to Salem has been set aside because it’s like a twisted, tangled Christmas lights that I can’t disentangle. I won’t give up on it, but I started something the next project that was in the queue. Process so far: character interviews, backstory and lots of questions. I made a couple of discoveries: a new character might actually be the main character, but dies. The one character who I thought would be the main character takes the lead in the story after the one who dies.

    If I hadn’t asked the right questions none of this would have occurred. I have both 21st Century and Writing the Breakout Novel. I’ve been turning to those often to guide me with questions. Thanks for being our guiding light!



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:16 pm

      Yep, keep asking the right questions. Amazing how far they can take us.



  5. Erin Bartels on December 3, 2014 at 10:47 am

    I have the sudden and hopefully irrational fear that this post is all about my work. Though, I suppose if it is I now have a map to lead me toward an even better story.

    I tend to enjoy stories that start with people who are stuck and want to make a change, because I think we all feel that way at times for various reasons (even when we truly do love our lives). But of course we can’t leave characters there. I may not be able to sell my house because we bought it right before the market crashed, but my character needs to find a way forward–hopefully an unexpected way.

    Restlessness is in some way our heritage as Americans, and some of our greatest stories revolve around that uneasiness we feel when we stay in one place for too long. And yet, on the other side of that coin is our intense desire for a place that feels like home. Living in that tension is something I think most of us experience at one time or another, and we love stories about people who finally find what they’re looking for–or else find something even better.

    The questions you suggest we ask ourselves as writers are a helpful way to find forward motion. As always.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:24 pm

      Erin-

      You are not paranoid, this post really *is* about your work! LOL. Well, in a sense it is. Your challenges are shared by many.

      I love the American dichotomy you identify: follow a wandering star vs. find a home. Lovely!

      Very much looking forward to seeing you at Write on the Red Cedar in January.



  6. Lynne Spreen on December 3, 2014 at 11:13 am

    My first novel includes a car chase, probably because I lacked the confidence to write a purely character-driven story. I’ve read many books on structure but never seen such practical guidance on this particular issue. Thanks for your generosity in sharing this.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:32 pm

      You might also check out Robert Olen Butler’s book From Where You Dream. Jane Smiley’s 13 Ways of Looking at the Novel is also worthwhile.

      I can also recommend Write Your Novel From the Middle by James Scott Bell (see above).

      For starters.



      • Lynne Spreen on December 3, 2014 at 4:17 pm

        (Now he tells me.) After I just ordered 2 of yours. Seriously, thanks for the recommendations.



      • Mary on December 3, 2014 at 9:01 pm

        Love, love, love Robert Olen Butler’s From Where You Dream



  7. Vaughn Roycroft on December 3, 2014 at 11:17 am

    Hey Don – Thanks for these questions. Although I’ve got a lot of stuff going on (plot) in my WIP, I’m finding these are perfect questions to be asking in relation to its romantic subplot, both in a macro way, and scene by scene.

    There’s nothing more annoying to me than a romance (movie or book) where you keep asking, “Why don’t you two just get together, already? No, seriously, why not?” Sucks when it’s all predicated on the Big Misunderstanding, especially when it could be easily resolved by a simple discussion. Even if the romance is an aside to the story. But when they work, it can add a wonderful flavor to the conflict stew.

    Thanks to you, I’ve been feeling less stuck since UnCon. Occasionally overwhelmed, but less stuck. I know what needs to be done, and that’s a blessing. Much appreciated.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:35 pm

      The right questions can get you unstuck. When overwhelmed, tackling story issues one at a time makes everything doable.

      So glad to hear thing are moving, Vaughn. So great to meet in person in Salem. And thanks again for your insights into lumberyards.

      (I can hear everyone thinking, huh?)



  8. Zan Marie on December 3, 2014 at 11:20 am

    Thanks, Don! To a writer of Women’s Fiction, your suggestions are golden.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:36 pm

      You’re welcome. You inspire me to shoot for platinum.



  9. John Robin on December 3, 2014 at 11:22 am

    At the heart of your post today is one truth writers often miss: that emotions drive novels, not actions. I am well into another novel now and it is working out better than before and I think one reason is because I have paid attention to this truth. Even though I am writing a plot-driven novel, the principle is still the same: actions are meaningless if they do not connect us to the inner yearnings of each character. I journey inward is the most exciting journey of all, and actions, together with reflections, come to life only when they have meaning to the reader.

    I also agree with you that this is very hard to do. It is not a simple formula that can be achieved by filling in a question sheet or a template. It is an intentionality that must be relentlessly applied to every thread of narrative, and consequently every page. Not, literally, every page per se, but every page in effect, since a writer must become so intimate with every piece of narrative that every piece becomes meaningful. I enjoy your exercise of picking up random pages and searching for microtension. One might blindly see this as a sure way to fix any manuscript, but I see its usefulness as a quality inspection to see if any stones have been left unturned; the solution is not always just to fix the page, but to descend deeper and traverse the story manifold that the right touches can be discovered, and this is seldom linear.

    Thanks again, Don, for a great post and another useful piece to add to my grab-bag. I am encouraged by some of the results I’m already seeing in my story and look forward to continuing to work my way deeper.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:37 pm

      You’re getting good results? That’s what I love to hear. Thanks,
      John.



      • John Robin on December 3, 2014 at 3:38 pm

        To the best of my knowledge. I sure at some point down the road a blue pencil session or two will inspire me to dig even deeper.



  10. Eva Lesko Natiello on December 3, 2014 at 11:32 am

    And in the un-sticking of my character, I, too, have become unstuck. Almost. Just about. On my way, at the very least. Thank you, Donald Maas.



  11. Mary DeEditor on December 3, 2014 at 12:39 pm

    Donald, this inspires me to dig out that 25-years-in-the-drawer first novel. Well done, sir.

    And kudos to James Scott Bell for pointing another key secret of the literary trade: aim for the Shattering Moment. That certainly fits _The Bell Jar_ and _Catch 22_ as well.

    Only one quibble: _Gone with the Wind_ as a no-plot novel? Seriously?



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:50 pm

      Mary-

      Well gosh, what would you call GWTW? A romance? A war epic? A fantasy quest? I don’t think Margaret Mitchell had a template to follow. There was no plot formula.

      What Mitchell did have was history. A journalist in the South, she researched extensively and drew upon Civil War memories of family and others. She knew what she had to include but it wasn’t exactly a story checklist.

      Yes, plenty happens in GWTW but how did Mitchell come up with all those events? Some, like the burning of Atlanta, came from history. Much else did not.

      Hey, now that I’m thinking about it, there is a volume of Mitchell’s letters that describe the process of writing GWTW. (“Gone With the Wind Letters”) We ought to check that out.



      • Mary DeEditor on December 3, 2014 at 3:02 pm

        Quintessential romance: Girl falls in love with the guy she can’t have, while ignoring/mistreating her one true love. Eventually comes to see the error of her choice, but is it too late? The rest is backdrop.



        • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 3:26 pm

          “The rest is backdrop.” *snort* Yeah, backdrop. She should have cut all that irrelevant stuff!



          • Mary DeEditor on December 3, 2014 at 3:55 pm

            My, what a rude snort. If you can’t tolerate reasonable disagreement, I won’t bother commenting.



            • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 6:21 pm

              No, no! That was a snort of amusement! I liked your comment. (Goes to show that tone doesn’t always come across.) Please don’t be offended–or stop commenting!



  12. Kiri J. on December 3, 2014 at 12:55 pm

    Thank you so much for this! I write middle grade. Kids will ALWAYS set aside a book if nothing is happening. I’ve been struggling to fill the void between the bookends of Brouhaha. My character has no idea she needs to change, and what she’s missing by not. These questioning techniques are perfect for what I need… right now. Thank you!



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:51 pm

      Awesome, go for it.



  13. Tom Bentley on December 3, 2014 at 1:39 pm

    Don says: “The human condition by itself isn’t a story. Change is.”

    Tom says: “Oh jeez, now you tell me.”

    Don says: “When you’re stuck simply ask the very questions the reader is asking. Demand answers—and watch things begin to happen.”

    Tom says (while pulling stuckedness glue off seat of pants): “Going to ask. No—demand! Gadzooks!”

    Writing world says: “Thank you.”



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 1:52 pm

      Don says: Ask questions, get unstuck…then stick to it.



  14. David Corbett on December 3, 2014 at 1:54 pm

    Mastah Don:

    As always, your post caused a minor nuclear detonation inside my skull. The noise is rough but the fallout is kinda, like, beautiful.

    First, you reminded me of David Mamet’s ALL CAPS MEMO to the writers of his TV show The Unit (don’t bother with the DVD collection), in which he makes the inescapable point that viewers (and readers) don’t “tune in” for information — they tune in for drama:

    SO: WE, THE WRITERS, MUST ASK OURSELVES OF EVERY SCENE THESE THREE QUESTIONS.
    1) WHO WANTS WHAT?
    2) WHAT HAPPENS IF HER DON’T GET IT?
    3) WHY NOW?

    Second, one of novels constantly held up as a classic “non-plot” effort is Hemingway’s THE SUN ALSO RISES. And though the novel careens over its varied ground and addresses multiple themes, etc., every scene in that book in some way echoes the love between Brett and Jake, their wish they could be together (“wouldn’t that be pretty”), and their dealing (miserably) with the reality that it cannot. And this speaks to the questions you pose for every scene.

    Last, Mette and I are stocking up on audio books for the upcoming cross-country drive for the holidays, and one book we decided on was Denis Johnson’s THE LAUGHING MONSTERS. A NYT article by Joy Williams on the book likened Johnson to Robert Stone (both writers I admire — in addition to Williams) but she faulted Johnson for emphasizing incandescent moments (“troubling effect and bright astonishments”) without Stone’s command of plot and structure. I think that speaks to Johnson’s background as a poet, but it also speaks to his commitment to, as you say, “characters who are stuck.” But those same characters are always in motion, pursuing some misbegotten dream or desire, and this propels things forward even if chaotically.

    BTW: the Joy Williams/NYT article also contained this, which is so brilliant and at least vaguely on point that I thought I’d share it:

    “A writer should write in such a way that nobody can be ignorant of the world and that nobody may say that he is innocent of what it is all about. Sartre says this, more or less, in “What Is Literature?” Johnson writes in just such a way. Life is ludicrous and full of cruel and selfish distractions. Honor is elusive and many find the copious ingestion of drugs necessary. Our ignorance is infinite and our sorrows fearful. We have made an unutterable waste of this world, and our passage through it is bitter and unheroic. Still, the horror can at times be illuminating, and it is necessary that the impossible be addressed.”

    Thanks for the nuclear post. The decontamination crew has arrived to scrub down my brain. Gotta go.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 6:22 pm

      David-

      I’m intrigued by The Laughing Monsters. Sounds worth it?



      • David Corbett on December 4, 2014 at 2:24 pm

        The NYT review wasn’t glowing, calling it “a lesser effort,” but I’ll let you know once we’ve given it a listen on the cross-country jaunt. Have fun in Michigan.



        • David Corbett on December 4, 2014 at 2:25 pm

          Oops. To be clear — the Joy Williams article wasn’t a review, rather more of an appreciation. The review came later and was written by someone else.



  15. Denise on December 3, 2014 at 2:19 pm

    This couldn’t have been more timely as I revamp my current YA. Thank you! It also spurred me to pull out my copies of both WRITING 21st CENTURY FICTION and THE FIRE IN FICTION to do some re-reading. Incisive questions get us to the core of our characters–questions we ask them and questions we ask ourselves.



  16. Ina Zajac on December 3, 2014 at 2:30 pm

    Bless you. Thoroughly frustrated with my WIP. I needed to read this right now.



  17. Denise Willson on December 3, 2014 at 3:10 pm

    Don, my dear Yoda, thank you. I’m half through my second reading of 21st Century Fiction, and loving what I’m learning.

    Your post, as well, doesn’t disappoint.

    Denise Willson
    Author of A Keeper’s Truth and GOT



  18. Andrea van der Wilt on December 3, 2014 at 3:43 pm

    Thanks for the article! After two false starts and a failed first draft (well… at least it showed me the story I didn’t want to write) I went back to square one and started outlining my fantasy WIP from the beginning. Something was missing because I was bored out of my brains with it.
    I’ve now got a new outline and a real plot, but I realised yesterday, while making a list of the scenes I need to write, that what I actually have now is a real character who goes through a personal struggle and is forced to change, but also to stay true to herself. I was looking for plot and I found my character – who is also the plot.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 6:25 pm

      Good to hear, thanks.



  19. Lara Schiffbauer on December 3, 2014 at 3:52 pm

    Excellent timing for me with this post! While reading it I had a similar experience as I did when I attended your workshop a couple of years ago where I was both given validation over what I’ve already written, and given direction to make it deeper and better. My first book was very action oriented, the second is more character driven. It still has action at it’s heart, but the action really does rely on the character’s choices and reactions to what is going on. I’ve felt a little like a fish out of water, so I really appreciate the sound advice!



  20. Sarah Callender on December 3, 2014 at 4:05 pm

    Thank you, thank you for this helpful post! Incidentally, I just decided that YOU should write my novel. I hope that’s OK. I will forward you my notes so you can get the gist of things. Feel free to scrap it all.

    I adore my agent, but you are probably able to handle that side of the deal.

    Feel free to dedicate the book to your family OR you can dedicate it to me:

    To Sarah Callender, a slow learner (but she’s getting better).



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 6:26 pm

      And I was just wondering what to do with my free time!



  21. C.S. Kinnaird on December 3, 2014 at 6:11 pm

    What a relief! I am having trouble with my plot-driven novel right now and am considering switching over to my non-plot-driven novel…your article gives me hope that I won’t have to transform it into a plot-driven-novel (which would change it too much). Thank you!



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 6:26 pm

      Every project can work. It just isn’t always obvious how…at first.



  22. Karen Dionne on December 3, 2014 at 8:01 pm

    Fantastic piece, Don! I shared the link with a good writer friend who’s rewriting her literary novel for her new agent and who I know has been struggling with the “nothing happens” issue, and she wrote:

    “Oh my gosh, Karen! Just last night I embedded a note in my current chapter that said “In all this time, nothing has really happened. Too much description and backstory with nothing actually happening.”

    This was perfect for me at this exact moment. PERFECT. TODAY. I just made five enormous pages of notes based on his insights that are going to give structure and suspense and action to what before were a bunch of vague notions.

    THANK YOU SO MUCH!”

    Thought you’d like to know! You’re SUCH a fantastic teacher. Wonder how many light bulbs you’ve lit over the course of the years?



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 10:45 pm

      Karen-

      It’s a pleasure to watch those light bulbs switch on during workshops. I think I’ve got a bit more teaching to do before I reach Times Square levels of luminosity, but I’ll keep working on it.

      BTW, you and your conference are missed!



      • Karen Dionne on December 4, 2014 at 5:27 am

        Thanks for the kind words, Don! I loved organizing the conference and bringing teachers and students together, but the conference took so much time, I wasn’t getting my own writing done. This spring I started working on a novel that my agent thinks could be my breakout book, so the time off has been good for me. And now Chris and I are planning to take a condensed version of the Backspace conference online in 2015. Conference organizing is in our blood!

        More from my friend:

        “It’s just magical what that link you sent has done to bolster this revision. THANK YOU AGAIN!”

        Thank YOU!



  23. Jan O'Hara on December 3, 2014 at 9:36 pm

    Thank you again, Don! Apparently I write about stuck characters so this post will come in handy.



    • Donald Maass on December 3, 2014 at 10:46 pm

      Stuck characters can do amazing things. They have before so why not for you too?



  24. Karen on December 3, 2014 at 10:49 pm

    Thank you, thank you for this exercise. I don’t consider myself so much a non-plot novelist as a “low-plot” novelist — stuff’s happening, just not a ton of it, and the events are of a quieter nature, though still with internal significance for the characters. I’ve always felt a little guilty about it, like, Why can’t I come up with more hijinks and car crashes? Spent all day yesterday on my current WIP — still in first draft, trying to break things out into scenes — tearing my hair out and going through the whole cycle of self-doubt and frustration. (Nothing’s happening! There’s no story here! Why did I ever think I could do this? And then finally, Relax, it’s just a block, work through it and the answers will come.) Didn’t get a whole lot of other work done. Then, lo and behold, this morning here’s this great post with practical help for me to — guess what? — work through it. In wrestling with these questions for each of my protagonists, I can already see that the answers are there among the raw material I already have, they just need to be drawn out so scenes can be built around them. Very valuable advice. Love The Big Brouhaha!



  25. Thomas Lopinski on December 3, 2014 at 11:08 pm

    Great advice. It is hard to step away from your writing and ask the serious questions about why, what, who, why, why, why do I keep typing this word? Sorry, I digress.

    I come from the Stephen King school of writing where I just write until nothing else comes out of my brain (usually after the bottle is empty). Then I go back and look at what I’ve written to see if any of it makes sense. These are great questions to ask myself during that process.

    Thanks



  26. Shawna Reppert on December 4, 2014 at 12:37 am

    It occurs to me that this advice can also be used at points in the novel where, for plot reasons, you *need* the character to be temporarily stuck. In one of the two novels I have coming out next year, a male/male fantasy romance, I needed to have a character too badly injured to travel so that he had to interact over a period of time with members of another elven race that he considered to be enemies. (One of the themes of the book is overcoming prejudice.) The challenge was to keep the story going while the outward journey was, quite literally, stalled. In the absence of this post I had to come up with my own solution, and ended up having him go through a research-quest through his reluctant hosts’ library in order to reclaim a lost art of bardic healing magic. It tied in with both his outer-journey original goal of restoring his own people’s queen to health and his inner journey of coming to terms with those he once considered to be butchers and oathbreakers. Because he needed the help of the ‘enemy’ prince to complete the magic, it made the romance strand of the plot more believable and also more original. (Theirs is almost literally a marriage of minds at the beginning of the romance.) At the risk of sounding like a fortune cookie, sometimes a problem is really an opportunity.



    • Donald Maass on December 4, 2014 at 12:40 pm

      “a problem is really an opportunity” Yes!