20 Master Plots

Fable, the fairy-tale, the riddle, the rhyme, and the proverb. The story went through thousands of oral rewrites until it could evolve no further. The Choking Doberman is pure plot. The characters and details that describe place and time take a back seat. The story has three movements. The first sets up the story by introducing both drama and mystery when the woman comes home to find her doberman choking. She takes her dog to the vet. The second movement starts when the woman returns home and the phone is ringing. An element of danger is introduced when the vet, very agitated, tells her to get out of the house. We know intuitively that the danger is connected to the mystery of the choking doberman. But how? We try to guess. The woman flees her house and the unknown danger. The third movement begins with the arrival of the police, who confirm the magnitude of the danger, and the arrival of the vet, who explains the mystery. The police prove the theory of the dismembered burglar when they capture him. Now, no one sat around concocting this tale. Let's see, I need a good hook, the choking doberman, followed by a startling complication, the phone call, and a scary climax, the bleeding intruder. The plot evolved according to our expectations of what a story should be. It has the three movements, beginning, middle, and end, a protagonist, the woman, an antagonist, the burglar, and plenty of tension and conflict. What happens in the choking doberman is not that different from what happens in the novels of Agatha Christie or P. D. James. It's only a matter of degree. Before we begin exploring the nature of plot, I want to make the point that plot isn't an accessory that conveniently organizes your material according to some ritualistic magic. You don't just plug in a plot like a household appliance and expect it to do its job. Plot is organic. It takes hold of the writer and the work from the beginning. Remove the plot from the choking doberman, and there's nothing meaningful left. As readers, we're plot-directed. Some writers have tried to write plotless novels, with some limited success, but we're so in love with a good plot that after a few short spasms of rebellion, angry writer, why must plot be the most important element, we return to the traditional method of telling stories. I can't say plot is the center of the writer's universe, but it is one of two strong forces – character being the other – that affects everything else in turn. On Skeletons We've all heard the standard instructional line, plot is structure. Without structure, you have nothing. We've been taught to fear plot, because it looms so large over us and so much seems to hinge on it. We've been told a thousand times there are only so many plots and they've all been used and there isn't a story left in the world that hasn't already been told. It's a miracle that any writer escapes being intimidated by the past. No doubt you've also heard plot described in architectural or mechanical terms. Plot is the skeleton, the scaffold, the superstructure, the chassis, the frame, and a dozen other terms. Since we've seen so many buildings under construction, and since we've seen so many biological models of humans and animals over the years, the metaphors are easy to identify with. It seems to make sense, after all. A story should have a plan that helps the writer make the best choices in the process of creating fiction, right? Let's take the metaphor of the skeleton, since it's one of the more common ones writing instructors use. Plot is a skeleton that holds together your story. All your details hang on the bones of the plot. You can even debone a plot by reducing it to a description of the story. We read these summaries all the time in reviews and critical analyses of fiction. Screenwriters must be able to pitch their plot in about two minutes if they have any hope of selling it. It's the simplistic answer to the simplistic question, what's your story about? Strong metaphors are tough to shake. The visual image of the skeleton is so graphic that we surrender to it. Yes, take out the skeleton and everything falls apart. It seems to make great sense.