Ponderings on novel structure

Oddly, this falls in line with a little eBook I found through a recommendation by Kay Kenyon. She pointed out Story Structure – Demystified, by Larry Brooks, who also runs the StoryFix website and blog. Highly recommended on my end as well.

Both Bransford’s post and the Story Structure eBook point to a 4-part structure inherent to novels (especially successful ones). And for clarification, “structure” does not equal “formulaic.” As Bransford notes:

There are millions of variations on this quest, whether it’s a journey through the mind, battling personal demons, or flying through outer space, but every single novel is about a character or characters who start in one place and end up somewhere else. That journey, physical or emotional or hopefully both, is the heart of the novel.

For me, it’s encouraging to see this, because it’s similar to the process I’ve followed when planning out a novel. For most of the plots I’ve developed (including the one we’re getting ready to send out to publishers), part of my initial structuring involves breaking down the book into four parts:

1. Opening Crisis/Revelation

2. Escalating crisis/revelation

3. Climactic crisis/revelation

4. Resolution

Another way of looking at this is “3 disasters and an ending.” The purpose of this structure is to give your book a satisfying flow of events which continue to top each other until you reach the big end fight/confrontation, followed by an equally satisfying ending that wraps everything up as neat as you can. This 4-part outline helps me in numerous ways. I can attach character arcs to it. I can maintain a sense of where I am within the story, and how far I might need to go before the next big crisis hits. I have a better sense of when foreshadowing needs to happen, or when I might have space for more character development. Without it–and yes, I have tried writing without any sort of plot outline before–I flounder. I lose my writing momentum, and the first draft becomes such an incredible mess, lacking tension in the right spots, lacking raised stakes and a sense of progress, that the novel I tried the structureless experiment on shall never be spoken of again.

Some writers argue against structure, saying that it limits the possibilities of their story, or perhaps makes their plot feel stilted. They point out writers who are “pantsers,” writing by train-of-thought alone and making it up as they go.

My response? Maybe pantsers are writers who naturally, and even unconsciously, fall into this structure. Perhaps they have an instinctual feel for the flow of events that other writers have to train themselves to work within. Or maybe they just throw everything onto the page at first and then impose the structure through numerous revisions. Who knows? But I would argue that many major and successful novels do follow this 4-part outline, and if you take the time to analyze a couple of your favorite books, you’ll likely discover they do as well. Yes, there are probably exceptions out there, but we’re looking at the majority here. If you want to base your writing career on the hope of becoming another exception, nothing is stopping you, and we’ll all cheer whenever you succeed.

Do you bring any sort of structure to your novels, whether in the planning, writing or revision phases? What’s it look like? Do you agree that a novel needs structure to succeed?