Welcome to another interim step in the 22 Steps series. This one is free for all subscribers.
The Daily Grind being what it is (there’s only so much to be said…goals are being hit, but I’m not quite at 40k yet) I thought I’d circle back to something I neglected to discuss earlier in this series. The seven basic plots and how they can be used to define your core story.
Thematically, there are only seven basic plots in the literary world. Each has to do with conflict. Each can be manipulated in many forms, combined, stripped down, or otherwise utilized to help you distill your story to a core design principle. There are plenty of arguments that there are only three, or five, but I think they boil down to these seven (especially now, with shifts in how people interact with society in general.) They are:
Man versus Man
Man versus God/Religion
Man versus Nature
Man versus Machines/Technology
Man versus Self
Man versus the Supernatural
Man versus the Environment/Culture
You’ve heard people say there isn’t anything original out there, that everything is derivative, blah blah blah. This is why. Of course, we know that’s not true. Unique stories and scenarios can absolutely be created. How? By writing in your own very distinctive voice. More on that in another post, though. Voice isn’t something that can be taught. It’s special.
So…elemental plot. Regardless of how unique or derivative a story might be, they will all fall within this particular framework. Man vs. X is as old as time, and I challenge you to show me a story that doesn’t have one of these seven plots at its core, regardless of genre.
A few times in the past, when I’ve agreed to teach a creative writing class, one of my favorite exercises is to help my students build their own short stories. I made a pinwheel out of an old frisbee, put a spinner on it, and passed it around so they could spin the “Wheel of Plot.” Whichever plot they landed on was their core story. Then I gave them photos of a few different settings, photos of a few people to choose from as a main character, and then a photo of an inciting event to write about. I asked them to write 500 words and gave them 15 minutes to do so. (I know that sounds like a lot of words, but if you’ve got all the elements with visuals to write a story, it goes much faster.)
The first time I taught this class, I also tried my hand at the exercise. My spinner landed on Man vs. Man, and I ended up with the plot idea for The Cold Room. So trust me when I say this works! It’s a super exercise. Throw a setting together with a couple of strangers, spin the wheel of plot, and boom—you have a story to work from. It’s the ultimate shortcut.
We can deconstruct this even further. There are a hundred arguments about how many plots exist. But in The Basic Patterns of Plot1, William Foster-Harris says, “Attempts to find the number of basic plots in literature cannot be resolved any more tightly than to describe a single basic elemental plot:
“ALL PLOTS STEM FROM CONFLICT.”
You already know that characters and settings need conflict to keep the story moving at a decent clip. So do your plots. But being able to recognize with whom—or what—that conflict happens is vital to your creative process.
Foster-Harris breaks it down further into three basic plot patterns.
Type A – Happy Ending
When the central character makes a sacrifice
(a decision that seems logically "wrong") for the sake of another.
Type B – Unhappy Ending
When the central character does what seems logically "right"
and thus fails to make the needed sacrifice.
Type C - The Literary Plot
When nothing the central character does will change the story.
What follows is inevitable, often tragic.
Don’t be fooled by the Happy Ending, Unhappy Ending, or Literary—we’re not talking Happily Ever After here. Crime fiction is a superb genre to explore these three types of stories. The happy ending is justice. The unhappy ending is a twist that shows the story isn’t what it seems. And the literary ending is heavily based on fate, with no clear resolution to the story.
Fate as an ending comes from the classical Greek notion of tragedy, in which the hero can’t avoid what’s coming for him. A decision is faced at the beginning of the story, and the end result is inevitable regardless of the attempts the main character makes to change the course of the story. All paths can be traced back to that one moment. I would argue, though, that there is no way to escape your fate, no matter how hard you try. (Perhaps this is why cats are rumored to have nine lives? What’s the etymology of that one?) (Okay, I looked it up, and while it’s in dispute (naturally), it can be traced back to a Persephone-esque tale of an Egyptian god who turned into a cat to go to the underworld and then sired eight more gods, effectively becoming immortal. Cool.)
Anyway. While my core theme in almost all my books is women finding their power, my core plot question is—can you ever escape your fate?
I’m examining this today because I’ve hit a point in my story where I must decide how to apply my core plots. It’s going to up the ante tremendously. I’ve already hinted at it, but I’m a quarter of the way in, and now I need to goose it so the main character is forced to act and, in so doing, put herself in harm’s way. Is this her fate? Has she escaped one fate only to be forced into another? Only time will tell.
The notion of trying to escape your fate is one of the core plot conflicts in many of my favorite books.
(spoilers ahead…)
Suzanne Collins Hunger Games trilogy (Man vs Man; Technology; God; Self) has one of my favorite examples of fate and destiny. Primrose Everdeen dreams she will be chosen in the Reaping, and sent to the capital to battle to the death in the barbaric Hunger Games. She is young, petite, unable to defend herself. If chosen, she will most certainly die. When she *is* chosen, her capable older sister Katniss volunteers to go in her place, setting in motion the ultimate man versus man plot device. Katniss tries to save her surrogate sister in the arena, Rue, and fails, a precursor of what’s to come, and a reinforcement of how futile her task really is. In the end, though she avoids the Games themselves, Primrose is killed in the final battle. Neither she nor Katniss could change her fate. Their actions simply delayed it.
By taking up the mantle of trying to change her sister’s fate, Katniss changes the fate of her entire world. What would have happened if Katniss was chosen from the beginning? We would have a compelling story—the hunter becoming the hunted and fighting back—but it would be a shallower tale. When she volunteers, Katniss shows courage, leadership, bravery, and humility (though she wouldn’t call it those things at all.) She becomes the Mockingjay, the symbol of freedom to an oppressed people. If she can show such courage, surely they can rise up from their bonds to gain their freedom, too. She alters her fate by putting herself in harm’s way. But in the end, she can’t change Prim’s fate, which is the only one she cares about.
This story is also perfectly designed with Save the Cat beats. More on that here.
The Harry Potter series (Man vs. Man) is a much more in-your-face fate story, one we’re all too familiar with. A child is saved from death and must grow up to vanquish the one who caused him pain.
Harry’s journey comes from a prophecy made well before he is even born.
“The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies...”2
Because Harry is born in July, survives a death curse from the Dark Lord himself, and is thusly marked with a curious scar, a lightning bolt on his forehead, everyone assumes the prophecy is about him. But in a fun turn of events, we find out there is another boy born in July who has the power to vanquish the Dark Lord: Neville Longbottom. He is an unlikely choice; he is awkward, can hardly do magic, and is almost a joke among his housemates until he discovers his power under Harry’s careful tutelage.
The irony of the prophecy is that it’s about both boys. They both need to kill Voldemort. Years ago, I came across a meme that made me gasp aloud: Harry was chosen for a solo mission, and Neville was chosen to lead the army. Both boys are fated to kill Voldemort, and they do—together.
Fantasy lends itself well to this trope: it’s called the Chosen One, and it is everywhere. (I utilize it myself in the Joss Walker novels.)
But outside of fantasy, we see these stories play out again and again. Another excellent example is John Grisham’s Sooley (Man vs Self), a wonderfully poignant fate story. Samuel “Sooley” Sooleymon is a Sudanese phenom basketball player who’s chosen to try out for an American basketball program. He is almost left behind when he can’t qualify, but his grit and determination impress his coaches, and they decide to take a chance. He leaves his village in South Sudan, an area ravaged by an ongoing civil war, and it is soon overrun by soldiers. The entirety of Sooley’s male family is killed, and his mother and sister disappear. Sooley should have been there. If not for the largesse of a coach with a soft heart, he would have been murdered with the rest of his family. He escapes his fate…only to have it catch up to him just before his dreams all come true.
My anthology, A THOUSAND DOORS, is a direct exploration of the idea of whether you can change your fate. In the first story, Mia is murdered, and as she dies, she experiences all the lives she could have had. Each story is written by a fellow author, so the lives are all very different.
There are hundreds more examples I could cite, but these are some of my favorites, and most obvious examples.
These seven elemental plots can be found in any genre of literature. I suggest picking one to work within, or your story can wander too far off track and lose its tension.
Science fiction has very clear themes of Technology, God, and Environment. Romance has obvious Man vs. Man and Self, too. Literary delves into any and all elemental plots, but especially Self. Fantasy can also derive its core story from any of the seven.
Crime fiction almost always has Man vs. Man elements at its core, especially when law enforcement is involved. This is one of the myriad reasons I love writing in this genre, because good versus evil is always fun, and the cat and mouse of a detective and a killer makes for intense reading. Man vs. Self is a prominent trope, too, the alcoholic detective being the prime example. Can the PI get out of his or her own way in time to solve the case?
Modern suspense has more leeway and allows you to bridge into some of the other elemental plots. Gothics often include elements of Man vs. God, Man vs. the Supernatural, and Man vs. Nature. Psychological thrillers can go deep into Man vs. Self and Man vs. God. Legal stories can get into Man vs. Environment or Technology. And they all can have elements of Man vs. Man, to boot.
HLN’s core conflict is (Wo)Man vs. Man combined with a (Wo)Man vs. Nature story. And there’s a Man vs. Self subplot. I’m working on defining these core elements right now, and it will make the story stronger down the road. This could—and should—tip to Nature, but there are three very distinct stories that I’m working with, and damn if it doesn’t seem like each plot thread has its own elemental theme. That’s why I’ve pulled back and looked at this today: I don’t want to muddy the waters by getting too many core elements into play. This is a tale of fate, and I want to keep it simple and focused.
Next time, I’ll discuss how, if we agree that there are only seven core plots, a distinct and remarkable Voice will help your work stand out from the crowd.
In the meantime, a small assignment: In thinking about the seven basic elemental plots, can you define which your story falls into? What, or who, is your main character battling against?
And do you believe in fate?
Write hard!
This is part of my Craft series delineating the 22 Steps of a novel’s lifecycle from concept to publication day, following my journey as I write my new novel, #HLN. Start here if you’d like to follow along in order, and be aware that after the first post this series is for paid subscribers. There’s plenty of free content on the Creative Edge, though. Subscribe below for more writing and craft talk.
Foster-Harris. The Basic Patterns of Plot. (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press, 1959.)
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (New York: Scholastic Press, 2003), 841.
I'm realizing how hard I lean into... Man vs. Self in my stories! This was great, thank you!
My current WIP is a (Wo)Man vs. Self + (Wo)Man vs. Man. I do believe in Fate -- but that there may be several paths that are predestined depending on choices made. I believe that the 'small details' make no difference, but that fate could shift between those X number of predestined strings throughout one's life.