Stephanie, Thank you for another instructive and inspiring look at how to craft a compelling story, right up to the end. I especially appreciate the reminder that, as Susan Albert points out in her comments, tying up every thread of the story is not the point of the ending: leaving readers with something to think about, ponder, and carry on, serves the story better.
I'm appreciating the depth of the comments here, and want to add that--as a long-time writer of genre fiction, I have tried to play with these dominant structural elements and to leave readers with unanswered questions. Like the "why?" that's demanded by Nick's shout across the lawn--and the unspoken answer that is left to every reader. Genre fiction tempts us to take the arc as given, but we can sometimes better serve the story by showing where it doesn't fit. Thank you, Stephanie, for laying this out so clearly.
Susan, your sense of structure is so integrated from your many decades of writing, you can make choices with good reason/argument behind them. For this rookie, I'm always looking over my shoulder to see if I have met the genre deliverables and created a tale that is compelling and satisfied the signposts along the arc -- And I think that readers, whether they're writers or not have a radar of expectation as to how story unfolds. Thoughtful and provocative comment, Susan. Thank you!
I enjoyed your series and find the explanations useful. However, I write memoir, and I think it's useful to mention that a life story doesn't always follow the trajectory of a traditional story arc. At least, not always in predictable order. Memoir writers must first understand the story structure as you've presented it, and then fit the elements of their stories into that structure. I think it presents opportunities to be more creative also. One such memoir is Maggie Smith's You Could Make This Place Beautiful. Smith deliberately departed from traditional structure to present a fuller picture of how her divorce affected her life. Memoir in essay can follow a story chronologically, but it doesn't have to. Again, the structure as you have presented it is fundamental to understand first. Thank you.
Excellent points. Know your basics before you stretch them -- as with any other art form. Know your scales and key signatures before you try to jam with other musicians. Have a working understanding of choreography before you audition for American Ballet Theatre.
As for memoir, I think where a lot of memoirists get hung up is knowing the difference between autobiography and memoir. So another important question for memoirists and novelists could be: What are your genre deliverables? Obviously the deliverables for suspense is going to be different from romance. And memoir is an art form, I believe, unto itself.
Story telling is a universal drive as you remind us here. Thanks for this clear explication of the arc of a story mirroring the arc of each life! Marian O’Shea Wernicke
YES! The arc that mirrors the arc of our life. Marian, my husband and I are taking a course this coming year on Homer's Odyssey. The arc of story is not a modern construct, but a pattern recognized by storytellers from the Sumerians to the Greeks. I believe the Odyssey was written in the 7th or 8th century BC. From what I've heard, the Odyssey is a masterclass in story structure and arc. I love nerdy stuff, don't you?
This is such a beautiful explanation of these so important elements of a story, fictional or a piece of creative non-fiction, the latter of which I tend to write. I so enjoyed reading this and believe every writer -- from aspiring writer to experienced one -- should read this primer.
I figure I'd tackle one of your excellent journal questions: What role do you as a writer play in a society dominated by commercialism and greed? This is a difficult question to answer, but I will try. Society is definitely ruled by commercialism and greed, but there's a hidden part not seen by people being consumed by these qualities: the hidden part includes the need to feel heard and seen, for too many people get lost when all the focus is on acquiring more and more things.
The human story is poignant and sacred. When we are children, adults often read us stories, and this helps us understand the world and our place in it. This need never really goes away. We as humans need to be understood and have stories touch our souls; that is, stories that we can relate to. Themes like grief, survival, death, insecurity, mental health, self-discovery, etc. are all universal, and when we read about universal feelings and experiences, we feel less alone.
As a writer, I try to touch on universal themes in trying to give the readers what I think they might need: that they are heard and I that I try to understand the human condition. Notice, I say "try to" because I don't think anyone has a complete handle on this. As I write, I also find that I gain important insights, so, for me, writing is cathartic, as Aristotle says.
"When we are children, adults often read us stories, and this helps us understand the world and our place in it. This need never really goes away." Though I couldn't have articulated it until just now, with your help -- this has certainly been true for me. The stories I hear/read/watch, shape and inform me. And the stories I tell reveal who I am and what I care about.
The understanding of the human condition comes with observations. You, Beth, as a painter know this so well. . . as artists and creatives we listen, observe, engage with the senses and capture slices of life with our brush or our pen.
And cathartic, yes! To let one's own creativity evolve one's heart and mind is a great gift. To that end, may we all write on . . .
Stephanie, Thank you for another instructive and inspiring look at how to craft a compelling story, right up to the end. I especially appreciate the reminder that, as Susan Albert points out in her comments, tying up every thread of the story is not the point of the ending: leaving readers with something to think about, ponder, and carry on, serves the story better.
I'm appreciating the depth of the comments here, and want to add that--as a long-time writer of genre fiction, I have tried to play with these dominant structural elements and to leave readers with unanswered questions. Like the "why?" that's demanded by Nick's shout across the lawn--and the unspoken answer that is left to every reader. Genre fiction tempts us to take the arc as given, but we can sometimes better serve the story by showing where it doesn't fit. Thank you, Stephanie, for laying this out so clearly.
Susan, your sense of structure is so integrated from your many decades of writing, you can make choices with good reason/argument behind them. For this rookie, I'm always looking over my shoulder to see if I have met the genre deliverables and created a tale that is compelling and satisfied the signposts along the arc -- And I think that readers, whether they're writers or not have a radar of expectation as to how story unfolds. Thoughtful and provocative comment, Susan. Thank you!
I enjoyed your series and find the explanations useful. However, I write memoir, and I think it's useful to mention that a life story doesn't always follow the trajectory of a traditional story arc. At least, not always in predictable order. Memoir writers must first understand the story structure as you've presented it, and then fit the elements of their stories into that structure. I think it presents opportunities to be more creative also. One such memoir is Maggie Smith's You Could Make This Place Beautiful. Smith deliberately departed from traditional structure to present a fuller picture of how her divorce affected her life. Memoir in essay can follow a story chronologically, but it doesn't have to. Again, the structure as you have presented it is fundamental to understand first. Thank you.
Excellent points. Know your basics before you stretch them -- as with any other art form. Know your scales and key signatures before you try to jam with other musicians. Have a working understanding of choreography before you audition for American Ballet Theatre.
As for memoir, I think where a lot of memoirists get hung up is knowing the difference between autobiography and memoir. So another important question for memoirists and novelists could be: What are your genre deliverables? Obviously the deliverables for suspense is going to be different from romance. And memoir is an art form, I believe, unto itself.
Story telling is a universal drive as you remind us here. Thanks for this clear explication of the arc of a story mirroring the arc of each life! Marian O’Shea Wernicke
YES! The arc that mirrors the arc of our life. Marian, my husband and I are taking a course this coming year on Homer's Odyssey. The arc of story is not a modern construct, but a pattern recognized by storytellers from the Sumerians to the Greeks. I believe the Odyssey was written in the 7th or 8th century BC. From what I've heard, the Odyssey is a masterclass in story structure and arc. I love nerdy stuff, don't you?
Stephanie,
This is such a beautiful explanation of these so important elements of a story, fictional or a piece of creative non-fiction, the latter of which I tend to write. I so enjoyed reading this and believe every writer -- from aspiring writer to experienced one -- should read this primer.
I figure I'd tackle one of your excellent journal questions: What role do you as a writer play in a society dominated by commercialism and greed? This is a difficult question to answer, but I will try. Society is definitely ruled by commercialism and greed, but there's a hidden part not seen by people being consumed by these qualities: the hidden part includes the need to feel heard and seen, for too many people get lost when all the focus is on acquiring more and more things.
The human story is poignant and sacred. When we are children, adults often read us stories, and this helps us understand the world and our place in it. This need never really goes away. We as humans need to be understood and have stories touch our souls; that is, stories that we can relate to. Themes like grief, survival, death, insecurity, mental health, self-discovery, etc. are all universal, and when we read about universal feelings and experiences, we feel less alone.
As a writer, I try to touch on universal themes in trying to give the readers what I think they might need: that they are heard and I that I try to understand the human condition. Notice, I say "try to" because I don't think anyone has a complete handle on this. As I write, I also find that I gain important insights, so, for me, writing is cathartic, as Aristotle says.
"When we are children, adults often read us stories, and this helps us understand the world and our place in it. This need never really goes away." Though I couldn't have articulated it until just now, with your help -- this has certainly been true for me. The stories I hear/read/watch, shape and inform me. And the stories I tell reveal who I am and what I care about.
The understanding of the human condition comes with observations. You, Beth, as a painter know this so well. . . as artists and creatives we listen, observe, engage with the senses and capture slices of life with our brush or our pen.
And cathartic, yes! To let one's own creativity evolve one's heart and mind is a great gift. To that end, may we all write on . . .
Thank you for your thoughtful comment.