Dynamic Plot & Theme Demo

Zestful Blog Post #214

Authors often get confused by the subjects of plot versus theme, and I don’t just mean aspiring authors. I’ve seen established authors get things mixed up, and their fiction turns out much less powerful than it could be.

Here’s how to make magic: Consider a plot thread and a theme together. Here is an example, or actually, I guess it’s a demonstration.

Recently I set out to write a short story starring my alter ego, Lillian Byrd. I wanted to give Lillian a problem to solve. And I wanted the problem to involve a friend of hers, and I selected her animal loving friend, Billie. Billie calls Lillian and tells her that her car has been towed and impounded by the city, and she doesn’t have enough money to get it out of jail. So, problem.

Lillian offers to lend her money, but Billie doesn’t want to borrow. She asks instead for Lillian to come over and help her sort through her collection of vinyl records so that some can be sold to raise the money for the fines. Because Billie’s record collection is the stuff of legend, Lillian can’t abide the thought of it being dismantled. OK, so this situation is getting more complex, and it becomes a plot arc. One way or another, we know that Billie’s problem will be solved by the end of the story, because that’s how stories work.

And there we have a theme, and we can call that theme any of a number of things: friends helping friends, the quality of friendship, the plight of low-wage workers, the hazards of not saving money for emergency situations.

Very soon after creating this problem for Lillian, I realized I needed more plot, and it stood to reason that another plot line would be just the thing. Lillian must take it upon herself to solve this problem of Billie’s, but she’s not sure what to do. The second plot thread appears when Lillian’s phone rings, and it’s her rich friend Flora Pomeroy, who wants her to drop everything and come out for a boat ride with her and some other rich friends. Billie urges her to go (they can deal with the record collection later), and we know that the boat ride will furnish some delectable action.

As soon as Lillian gets aboard, Flora tells her that she wants her to investigate a member of the boating party — while they’re out on the water! — in order to settle a bet Flora made with another friend, who also happens to be aboard. As soon as we hear about a bet, we know cash is lurking around.

What develops is another theme, along with the plot line, along with a significant plot arc. We could call it the theme of friends helping friends, just the same as above, or we could call this theme human ingenuity, or we could individualize the theme and call it Lillian’s willingness to take drastic risks for the hell of it. (That theme seems to crop up repeatedly in my Lillian fiction.)

You can see that both plot lines and both themes will come together and make for a satisfying outcome. At least, that is what I’m hoping readers will think after they’ve read the story! It is as yet unpublished, because I have to create an e-cover for it and run it by my beta readers. [Would you like to become one of my beta readers? Send me an email—addy is on my web site under contact—telling me so. You’ll also become a member of my Newschat list, if you’re not on it already.]

So, what’s the point of considering plot in light of theme? Simply that when you consider your plot lines along with the themes that relate to them, you create an awareness in yourself, an energy that makes your story add up to more than the sum of its parts. You might be moved to create dialogue where your characters discuss their feelings about specific things—or avoid talking about specific things. You might notice ways to build on themes by ramping up risk or reward or trouble. You might see weaknesses you can easily fix. These are subtle elements and distinctions—perhaps even ineffable—but these are things I love to think about and want to help you love to think about too.

Comment, question? To post, click below where it says, ‘No Comments,’ or ‘2 Comments,’ or whatever. [Photo by ES.]

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The Real Thing: A Route 66 Placemat!

What does a cheesy, mass-produced placemat have to do with good writing?

Short answer: simplicity.

Because I've long felt that most writing instruction is needlessly complex (I don't even like the term 'instruction'), my chief guideline while writing YOU'VE GOT A BOOK IN YOU was simplicity.

Simplicity in the ideas I developed, simplicity in my presentation of them. The best teachers, as we know, merely point the way.

I first got the idea of the Route 66 placemat when creating a webinar for Writer's Digest University on writing mysteries and thrillers. My concern was plotting. I expanded on the 'heart-clutching moment' plotting method I'd first written about Writer's Digest magazine, then put together a simplified version of the classic 'hero's adventure' framework.

Then, something even more basic—one might even say rustic—occurred to me, which can incorporate both methods, really, while being totally 'graspable'. A story's plot, I reasoned, is like a map—is a map—and I thought of the simplest map I'd ever seen, which was a Route 66 placemat. Here it is:

[With thanks to the Hoffmaster Company of Oshkosh, Wisconsin, for their generous permission.]

I developed the idea in the proposal for my book, and then further in the book itself.

The Route 66 placemat map is a powerful symbol of movement and simplicity, perfect for writing.

Because every book, fiction or nonfiction, is a journey for the writer and for the reader. And ideally it's an adventure too, filled with zest and new vistas.

Just as drivers need a map to get from Chicago to Los Angeles, we as authors need some sort of map to get from "It was a dark and stormy night," to "THE END." And for the journey to open us to the joys, terrors, and opportunities of the unexpected, that map should be as simple and flexible as possible. The beauty is that a simple map lets you get into virtually endless complexity—side trips, backtracks, interconnections and junctions—without encumbrance.

A good lesson for writing, and a good lesson for life!

I submitted a bunch of photographs and other images with the manuscript, but Writer's Digest Books only included a few of them in the published book, the reason being that the images would have put the page count over a threshold that would have put the price of the book too high. My other choice would have been to cut pages of text, which I didn't want to do.

So to my sorrow, the book does not include an image of the Route 66 placemat.

But I'm glad to present it here, just for the hell of it.

I'll publish other images that didn't get into the book here, with explanations and more insights.

I welcome your comments! To post one, click below where it says, 'No Comments,' or '2 Comments,' or whatever.

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