I Have This Nebulous Idea That The Marie Kondo Method Actually Applies Really Well To Editing The First

I have this nebulous idea that the Marie Kondo method actually applies really well to editing the first complete draft of a story and I just…could write a whole essay about it but that might be all there is to it? Going through part by part and asking if this sparks joy and dropping it mercilessly into the discard doc if it doesn’t???

Short Story Plot: How to Use Ideas and Structure to Plot a Short Story

Do you want to write a short story, but are unsure about how to develop a short story plot?

Short stories rarely require extensive plotting. They’re short, after all. But a bit of an outline, just to get the basic idea down, can help you craft a strong plot.

Plotting your short stories will give you an end story goal and will help you avoid getting stuck in the middle, or accidentally creating plot holes. You’ll have fewer unfinished stories if you learn to do a little planning before you start writing.

And in this article, you can learn how to take your short story’s primary conflict, and build a plot around it.

Definition of Plot and Structure

I see the terms “plot” and “structure” thrown around interchangeably quite a bit, so I’d like to correct that before we move on.

Plot is a series of events that make up your story.

Structure is the overall layout of your story.

Plot is (most likely) unique to your story, but there are a handful of basic structures that are universal and used over and over again. (We’ll get into the basic three act structure in a later post.) Structure is the bones and plot is what fills it out.

You can learn more about plot and structure in this article, or the different story types here.

The Strength of a Short Story Idea

When I first started out writing short stories, I had no idea where I was going with any of them. Absolutely none. I see this time and time again with newer writers. I think it’s because we’re conditioned to think any kind of art is only driven by that infamous and often elusive muse rather than hard work. I felt the same way.

And then I started getting more stories under my belt. Some I finished. Some I didn’t.

You know what the difference was? The stories I finished, I plotted before I wrote.

Now I know a lot of writers loathe plotting or outlining stories—of any length, but especially short stories. They have various reasons for this dislike, but the most common one I hear is planning or outlining takes all the “magic” out of writing. “Creative writing is about being creative!”

I won’t get into the idea that writing is actually a job here—it is. That’s not what this article is about.

Instead, I’m going to propose a different reason for planning a short story with one important question: Is your idea even a story?

Planning out your story, even if it’s short, can give you an answer to this question. It will determine whether or not your central character can work towards achieving a goal (and simultaneously the plot moves towards a climax), or if your idea ends there—at the idea.

Writer’s tip: If you’re feeling stuck on coming up with an idea that could withstand a story’s length, try looking at the types of plots discussed in this article.

Is It a Story or Just a Story Idea?

Don’t panic. I don’t plan extensively. But what I’ve found was absolutely no planning whatsoever more often than not leads to wasted time. Nobody has time to waste.

If I don’t plot at all, I’ll get maybe a third of the way through the story and get stuck. I’ll have no idea where it was going, and without that goal in mind, I’ll flounder. I might tinker around with the idea a little longer, but most of the time I’ll end up abandoning the story.

A few weeks ago, I had the infamous muse visit me. I grabbed my notebook and started writing. It was great writing. The prose was good, the main character was crazy interesting, ditto for the secondary character, and I’d set up a mystery that made you want to turn the page. The problem was I had no idea what the mystery was. I had set up and no payoff. This story idea fizzled out at the start of the second act.

Now, to be clear, I do indulge my muse every once in a while. It does feel good to be taken over by an idea, even if you don’t know where it’s going. It’s all very “artisty.”

But the fact is I’ve sold one story that I finished without plotting it beforehand. One. Out of dozens I’ve started. That one took me about a week to write and it was torture for me, for my characters, and, I’m sure, for the backspace on my keyboard. Everything about the story reads as forced. It’s uninspired. And you know what?

That’s the one my muse started me on! Inspiration is supposed to be the point of the muse, right? But a muse can only get you started; it can’t keep you going.

Your muse won’t finish a story for you.

When your muse starts poking at you and you don’t know if your idea is a story, ask yourself a couple of questions:

Am I going to remember this idea tomorrow? Yes, it’s nice to be taken over by inspiration. Feel free to indulge that every so often. But also be prepared to have an unfinished story on your hands. You don’t necessarily have to wait until tomorrow to write the thing (especially when we’re talking about shorts), but you do need to know if your enthusiasm is going to wan a few minutes down the road when your muse decides to go take a nap, leaving you with nothing but frustration. (That story I mentioned a moment ago? I haven’t completely forgotten about it, but it does not sit at the top of my mind.)

Do I have a “What if?” question and an answer to that question? If you’re thinking about beautiful sentences where nothing is happening, that’s probably not a story. If you can’t think of an end goal for your character, that’s probably not a story. See the next section for more on “What if?” and the answer. (The story I didn’t finish did not have a goal in mind.)

Do you have a character? This one seems like a no-brainer, but you’d be surprised how often I used to start “stories” and just ramble on with purple prose. No people, no action, no story.

If the answer to all these questions is “yes,” then you most likely have a finishable story. If it’s “no” tell your muse to go back to its hole until it can come up with something better.

If you must, explore the idea a little more and see if you can’t plot a little something. (Do not write yet!)

Enter the “What if?” question.

What If? How Asking This Question Can Plot a Short Story

In the last post, I told you my favorite way to think of a short story idea is the “What If?” question. This question can help you think about various ways to put your central character into a conflict, like: What if X happened? It’s your own mind giving itself creative writing prompts.

Let’s expand on that method a bit. Notice it’s a question. And questions often have answers, do they not? Knowing the answer to your “What If?” question is the most basic outline of a story.

Let’s start with a basic question.

Q: What if someone knocked on my door?

A: I’d probably ignore it.

That’s it. That’s the story. It’s kind of crappy, right?

Notice that answer is my immediate reaction to the knock. It’s not something that happens down the road. That’s part of what makes this scenario NOT a story.

The other issue here is there is no conflict. I don’t answer the door, the person goes away, and I’m left to my own devices. There are no consequences for my decisions, so nothing happens—and nobody reading about this incident cares.

Without conflict, there are no stakes in a story. No conflict equals no story.

What Makes a Good Conflict?

Remember conflict can come in many forms and doesn’t have to be a shoot ’em up kind of situation. Internal conflict can also make a short story. But there MUST be conflict.

So, on multiple levels, this question and answer session is a loser.

Now, let’s say I don’t answer the door. (I’m a millennial. I’d rather not talk to people if I can help it, so this really is the most likely thing to happen.) The person assumes I’m not home. But wait! They’re a burglar. They now try to break into my house. The “What If?’ question has now changed to “What if someone tried to break into my house while I was home?”

See how the central character has to do something now? Even if they don’t, there will be consequences.

Because the story idea establishes stakes, I know I’ve got something. How do I know? There are myriad possibilities here. I could call the cops. I could run out and confront them myself. I could freeze and run upstairs and hide. I could sic my dog on them. I could wait for them to get inside and invite them to join me in having a cup of tea.

Whatever I choose to do, there will be a cause and effect trajectory of events. Which means more stakes, and more opportunities that force my protagonist to face their conflict. They have to make decisions, which will lead to a whole slew of other “What If?” questions:

What if they get in before the cops get here?

What if they break a window?

What if my dog was outside and they hurt him?

What if a neighbor sees them and comes running over?

What if they “break in” but it’s really just my sister needing in my house for something?

What if I’m hiding under the bed and they find me?

What if they hate tea?

What if … and the list goes on.

These are all more interesting scenarios than just ignoring the door and the person going away. But we’re still looking for the answer to the initial “What If?” question. The answer solves the question and puts it to bed. It doesn’t lead to other questions.

Don’t Forget to Answer Your What If Questions

A short story only has one to three scenes normally, so your answer needs to come in a short span of time. It can’t come years down the road. Any span of time longer than a few hours, maybe a day or two, is probably too long.

Q: What if someone tried to break into my house while I was home?

A: I would call the cops, but also grab my bat and be ready to use it.

But wait. That still doesn’t answer the question, not in a final way. There’s still an open ending there, still questions. (Did I use the bat? What happened if I did?) Let’s try again.

A: I would decide not to use my bat and would talk to them until the police got there.

That’s better. With this scenario, I can think of a couple of things that would happen after the police got there, but at that point the situation is over. I’ve done it. I’ve defeated the burglar. Anything afterwards is a conclusion to the story.

The best part is, I’ve actually done it in a way that means change for me as a central character. I didn’t want to talk to anyone to begin with, which is what led to the whole situation. But I have to overcome that aversion by talking to someone in order to solve the problem.

Short Story Structure

We’ve got two important elements of the story narrowed down now: the “What If?” question and its ultimate answer.

If you’ve been following this blog for a while, you might have come across the many posts we have about plot structure. In a story you need six things:

Exposition (Background and setup.)

Inciting Incident (A major event happens to your character.)

Rising Action (or progressive complications, a sequence of events where things get worse.)

Crisis (Ah, what is your character going to do?)

Climax (Showdown based on what your character decided to do.)

Denouement (Finish it up.)

Need a refresher on these plot elements? Dive further into story structure here.

A short story is often only one to three scenes. That means this structure, these six elements, stretch over the entire story to form the framework. (The scenario I’ve presented would most likely be a one-scene story.) Notice I’m talking about framework here. These six elements are your story structure.

So what do we have here after all this thinking about questions and answers?

The “What If?” question is your Inciting Incident.

The ultimate answer is your Climax.

Boom. Two elements down. And these two elements happen to be the bulk of what your readers will remember from your story.

We’ve planned a story, believe it or not. And it didn’t even hurt that much.

But wait! There’s more. (Sorry, couldn’t help myself.)

In the process of coming up with these two elements, we’ve inadvertently come up with a couple of others.

Choosing not to use the bat and talking to the burglar instead? That’s the Crisis. All those streams of “What if?” questions? Those are progressive complications.

Whoops. We’ve outlined basically the whole thing, haven’t we? I sort of tricked you there. Sorry, not sorry.

Plotting Doesn’t Hurt—Too Much

Plotting a short story doesn’t have to be a meticulous thing that requires hours of work and a running spreadsheet. It also doesn’t have to take the magic out of writing.

Your plan for your short story can be a simple, loose outline. (By the way, outlines can change if you think of something better! They’re not set in stone.) Really, you just need two elements to get to writing a short story:

A “What If?” question (identifies the Inciting Incident)

The answer (shows the Climax)

And then you’re ready to write!

In future articles, we’ll dive more into writing structure and the essentials and plot elements of a short story. For now, use this “shortcut” to plan out a few short stories of your own! Have fun with it!

Source

Writer challenge: think of a way to hint at magic/superpowers that isn’t overdone. We’ve all seen eyes that glow or change color, teeth that grow sharp, ears that get pointy.

I want to see a character’s eyebrows ripple into tiny scales when they’re concentrating on their powers. Or someone’s nose disappears when they cast a spell.

What hasn’t been done yet? 

Keeping a writer’s journal

Having a place to store your notes and ideas is very important because no matter how many times you tell yourself you won’t forget something, there’s a very high chance you will. Your brain has to process and recall lots of information every day, many of it won’t be related to writing, this is why it’s only natural to forget things.

A writer’s journal gives you a fun and comfortable space to look back at and add more and more detail to along your writing journey. You should make your notes in a way that suits you, there’s no specific way it has to look. Make it a place you enjoy and something you’d like to do wherever you are – on trains, buses, in café’s, at home or work.

You might use:

A traditional notebook

Lined/plain paper collected and arranged in a file

Your phone, tablet/Ipad, laptop or computer

It doesn’t matter what you use as long as it’s whatever works best for you. If you use something portable and easy to carry around, take it with you wherever you go and jot down things that strike you as interesting, unusual, useful and anything else you may want to come back to later. If what you usually use isn’t portable, write your notes in your phone and copy them into your preferred journal later.

A writer’s journal or writer’s notebook can be used to collect facts, fictions, observations from everyday life and anything else you come up with.

Your notebook can become a testing ground for trying out ideas, phrases, short-stories and scenes, bits of dialogue – all with the freedom and knowledge that if things don’t work out no one sees these trial runs but you; it does not have to be perfect. Overtime you may come to realise your journal can form a kind of personal ‘running-commentary’ to yourself, on your thoughts about your own work.  

Keeping track of useful details:

Taking notes of the details of people’s appearances who you find interesting or recognise as a source of inspiration can become a habit that will help you with describing what your characters look like or coming up with new ideas for characters. You can jot down any interesting or unusual things you see or hear. The same can be done for places – writing down things you notice while you’re at the park, on the train or bus, in a house, a café, a museum, on the beach etc, will all help you write about them in your story.

Your journal might include:

General notes and sensory observations of the world around you

Things you have seen or heard, felt, or read – perhaps a passage of other people’s writing, or phrases that you admire

Words, synonyms and word-derivations that are new or interesting to you

Facts you may want to remember

Lines or phrases that you might use in your work

Images: postcards, pictures, photographs, mood boards that are in some way significant to you, perhaps because they conjure up a scene or story you might write about

Descriptions or sketches of characters and places you might wish to write about

Notes about periods in recent or distant history that you’re interested in

Ideas and plot lines that might be useful in the future, or that you are gathering for particular pieces of work

Anything you write down, even a single line, can be the foundation for a greater story.

Happy Writing!

Instagram: kim.always.writes

I feel like we need to write powers with more negative consequences when using them, and I don't mean "They get super tired if they use their power to much." Power shouldn't be free with no cost. For every action there is a reaction.

Positive Powers with Negative Side Effects

Someone with the power of resurrection who can bring anyone back to like shortly after dying. However every time they do, some other random person in the world will suddenly drop dead. Can they live with the guilt?

Psychic powers often come with memory issues.

Someone with the power to breath underwater, but has to wear an oxygen mask when they aren't because they can't get enough from the atmosphere normally.

Controlling fire isnt as awesome when the wielder isnt flame resistant

Someone who can fly, but is bound to a wheelchair when they aren't flying.

Superstregth might be good for your muscles, but not so much for your joints.

Someone with the power of foresight, but they can only foresee bad events.

Shapeshifting is excruciatingly painful.

Someone with the powers of magnetism is constantly sick because of the unbalanced metals in their natural system like iron, zinc, etc.

Someone who can liquify themselves can easily change shape, but being so malleable doesn't lend itself to having strong bones and other body parts

Someone who can speak to animals, but is otherwise mute.

Hydrokenisis comes with the side effect of dehydration.

some writer snob somewhere: Do not start sentences with But or And because doing so is grammatically incorrect.

me, writing my fic: But I don’t care. And you can’t stop me.