Story vs. Spectacle (Hint: The Winner Isn’t What You’d Expect Me to Say)
By Steven James | August 31, 2018 |

Flickr Creative Commons: Norm Lanier
I love roller coasters.
There’s nothing like the anticipation of riding up to the first drop, or being caught in that hover-quiver breath-holding gasp of time when you know you’re about to plummet three hundred feet after just a few more slim clicks of that chain on the track beneath you.
And then.
You do.
Over the years, as a coaster connoisseur, I’ve been to both Disney World in Orlando, Florida and Cedar Point amusement park in Sandusky, Ohio.
Two very different parks.
Two very different experiences.
Cedar Point is the roller coaster capital of the world with 18 world-class coasters. From what I understand, it was the first park to build a complete circuit roller coaster with a two-hundred-foot drop (Magnum XL-200), the first three-hundred-foot drop (Millennium Force) and the first four-hundred-foot drop (The Top Thrill Dragster).
As you can imagine, I’m right in my element at Cedar Point.
Disney World, on the other hand, is more interested in creating an immersive experience while you’re waiting in line. Sure there are coasters, but the emphasis isn’t on building the world’s fastest or tallest, but the story that goes along with the thrill.
Everything is centered around story. The buildup to the rides, the rides themselves—it all fits into a narrative that begins the moment you get in line. As you come closer and closer to boarding the Tower of Terror, for example, there’s a specific mood that’s introduced: a setting, a character, all laid out to tell a story.
At Cedar Point, each ride is unique and exciting. Sure there’s a clever name and a cool logo, but there isn’t such an emphasis on narrative as there is at Disney.
So which approach is better—spectacle or story?
Recently, as I reflected on this question I was surprised by my answer.
As a novelist who is also a huge proponent of raising the bar of excellence in storytelling, I naturally suspected that I would fall into the story camp. (I have a master’s degree in storytelling after all, and have spent the last twenty years teaching it around the world, if that’s any clue to how addicted I am to story.)
But, after a recent trip to Cedar Point, I realized I was torn.
Yes, while you’re waiting in line, Disney’s theme-based and intricately-told stories are more engaging, but those coasters at Cedar Point are just so dang fun.
The parks appeal to patrons in different ways. And, for me, there are different reasons to go to the two destinations.
Entertainment—Disney.
Anticipation—Cedar Point.
It’s sort of like when I go to a movie theater to watch a film that’s action-packed with amazing stunts or impressive special effects. I go in knowing that the plot might not be the best in the world, but I want that thrilling experience—to be blown away and not to think too hard about everything. With this in mind, I’m able to enjoy some movies that have lots of explosions, car chases, fight scenes, and intense sequences but little character development or a well-synthesized plot.
There are just those times when I want to fly down a 400-foot drop at 120 miles per hour and that’s all I want.
Three takeaways from all of this.
- Understand your audience. When you think about your writing project, think about these two aspects of entertainment—story and spectacle. There might be times when your readers or viewers simply want to be blown away. In that case, do it. There might be times when your story needs to move people on a deeper emotional level. Okay, then provide that. Make appropriate promises with your cover art, back cover copy, and so on to lock in readers’ expectations. Then deliver.
- Don’t look down on the approach of other authors. You literary authors—don’t snub your nose at “genre fiction.” And those of us who write action stories or thrillers, let’s be gentler in our assessment of relationship-based stories or those that are more centered solely on character development. Does Cedar Point serve its constituents? Absolutely. It’s been voted the number one amusement park on the planet eight times. Does Disney deliver? Yes! I enjoy the immersive atmosphere of a Disney ride but also the pure adrenaline rush of riding some of the fastest coasters in the world.
- If you’re going to opt for spectacle, it better be worth the wait. If someone is going to stand in line for two hours to ride a 13-second ride (like The Top Thrill Dragster), that 13 seconds better be well worth it (and it is).
So, to all of you spectacle writers, I welcome you in. Sorry I’ve been so judgy and given you a hard time in the past.
Now, I know that there will be some people who’ll be quick to point out that the best stories provide both an amazing thrill ride and an emotionally resonant, masterfully plotted storyline. I wouldn’t disagree and I totally get where you’re coming from. After all, that’s the kind of stories I’ve been trying to craft for the last decade of my life.
I’m just saying that once in a while all I want to do is sit in the front car, lift my arms, and drop straight off a coaster-created cliff screaming with pleasure on a cool summer night.
I’m a native Virginian and my first job was 4 summers working the rides at Busch Gardens. Our local main competitor is Kings Dominion.
We have a similar dichotomy. Busch Gardens has shows, themed sections by ‘country’, shade, rides, award winning landscaping, did I mention themed FOOD that’s pretty durn good?
Kings Dominion is concrete and rides.
If you’re craving a frantic pace, Kings Dominion has got you covered. Busch Gardens lends itself to a lot more variety.
Then again, I like to think of Williamsburg — where Busch Gardens is based– as the retirement capital of Virginia. Plenty of them come out for dinner, get their evening walk in, maybe a show or 2, then head home.
That said, I’m not surprised with your answer. Humanity has always loved the spectacle. From ‘Bread and Circuses’ to ‘Freak Shows’, it’s always had a draw.
And… then there’s storytelling told inside of action. Think the first Die Hard.
Hello Stephen. Having been to both Cedar Point and Disney World, I see what you mean by your analogy. But unlike you, I’m no fan of roller coasters. My wallet and I were in both places with grandchildren. As they screamed their way through another thrill seeker’s delight, I was probably watching the crowd. That would be my own analogy for distinguishing between spectacle and story.
But, for me, your contrast between immersive and gripping experience doesn’t really apply to books. However escapist a genre novel may be, it shares the medium of print with what you call relationship-based stories. For me, the real distinction is between the person who reads because he can’t be hurtling through the strobe-raked dark of Space Mountain, and the one who sees a book as the ultimate escape from either life’s Top Thrill Dragster, or Humdrumsville.
I rode the Cyclone at Coney Island twice in a row when I was about 12. It scared the living daylights out of me, but I loved it. I have since lost the desire to hurtle headlong toward earth in a small car, but I do have the occasional roller-coaster dream, where I’m almost in the clouds, approaching the big drop. In these dreams I know I’m dreaming so I actually groove on the views. Kind of messes up the anticipation, though. I love anticipation in stories probably more than I like big drops. But anything that happens in a well-written tale is always going to be in service to the ‘why’. Gratuitous action is just that, and usually kicks me out of my suspended disbelief. But an action scene where a character I’ve become totally invested in emotionally is a Cyclone ride for me every time.
…meant to say, “where a character I’ve become invested in emotionally gets thrust into danger is…” Now for more coffee.
I always love your posts and writing advice, Steven, and will share this one. Thanks for sharing a different perspective on what makes a book entertaining, and that there’s a place for all facets of entertainment in storytelling. I will never understand your roller-coaster fascination, however, and will happily stand on terra firma and watch you risk life, limb, and heart attack. :)
Same here: absolutely no roller-coaster for me! But when it comes to movies, I am there with you. Sometimes I am in de mood for some high-packed action (although I have to say I am not a huge fan of car chases … they tend to bore me rather quickly), sometimes I want a slowly unfolding story.
There are books you read for the thrill, turning pages quickly, and there are books where you savour every sentence. They are both fine. The trouble only begins when you expect (and want) one and get the other.
Hi, Steven:
Always great to see you here.
First, I imagine you’re acquainted with this: “I will go to the altar of God/To God, the joy of my youth.”
For me, it was the first exchange between priest and server in the Catholic Mass (and I originally learned it in Latin).
Well, not to seem sacrilegious or anything, but being raised in Columbus, Ohio, many joys of my youth were not, sadly, at the altar of God, but at Cedar Point.
This was long before it’s becoming the Mecca of roller-coaster aficionados, however. And I mean LONG before. We were content to ride the live dinosaurs.
Ahem.
As to your point — I think the resistance to spectacle in particular and popular entertainment in general is one of those pseudo-sophisticated biases that genuinely creative people dismiss. Think of Fellini’s fascination with the circus and clowns. Think of Beckett’s fondness for Buster Keaton.
My last two books have both resolved in moments of devastating violence, i.e., “spectacle.” Only one reviewer has objected (with the backhanded compliment “Tarantino-like”). But in both cases the build-up was crucial.
In the most recent case, THE LONG-LOST LOVE LETTERS OF DOC HOLLIDAY, there was simply no way I could end the book without recreating in the present-day story the most crucial moment in the Doc Holliday legend, the Gunfight at the OK Corral. And it being the modern day, not the Old West, the violence would by necessity be far more violent given the weapons involved and the skill of the men using them, but no less eerily confused, accidental, and seemingly preventable if only…
But the impact of that would not be as powerful without the build-up: the story that makes the horrific violence both surprising and inevitable, the characters that make it meaningful.
So I’m squarely in the story + spectacle camp.
That said, I can’t wait for John Wick III.
Also can’t wait to see you in October for the weekend intensive on character we’re giving in Atlanta. Cheers!
Great to see you here, too David. Looking forward to the http://www.characterconference.com !
The next time you’re in Ohio, head south to the Cincinnati area and ride The Beast at King’s Island. It’s a 5+ minute ride on an old-fashioned wooden coaster and one of the best wood coaster rides ever. You’ll love it. Lot more to ride there, including other coasters, but that one’s my all-time favorite…and I’ve ridden every one at Cedar Point.
I’ve been to Disneyworld too a couple of times. You’re right about ‘story’. It’s quite the immersive experience. I’ve always thought they should do some runs of Space Mountain, lights on and let people see what they’re hurtling around!
After reading a few pages of my upcoming novel, a publisher asked if my story is women’s fiction or suspense. I love suspense. That’s what I write. However. I’m a woman who thinks and feels strongly about the common struggles we face. And that is what flows onto the pages of my novels. This blog post helped me breathe easier. I don’t have to choose one or the other. I write triumphant stories imbued with spectacle. They touch emotions and brings hope. And they’re fun. Thank you Steven.