Taken from an excellent blog post by @The Big Peat "The Shape of Stories"
I've been thinking about this the last few days in relation to the third book in my Fire Stealers series: basically (as Peat might put it) how many of the guns shown on the wall need to be fired at all, or need to have ammunition still in them by the climax, and I was cheered by his thought that in epic-type fantasy particularly (which I guess Fire Stealers is) it probably helps to have these red herrings and narrative dead ends, because they stop the shape of the story being so obvious.
And yet, something in me rebels against the idea of not having everything come together at the end and tying up in a nice Gordian bow.
The one that concerns me at the moment is that the start of my book 3 contains quite a lot about the creation of a defensive weapon, in which the main characters get involved to a greater or lesser extent. It ties in thematically, is useful to the plot at the beginning, and more importantly it is what would logically happen in those circumstances. But it won't get very far because the "project leader" will stop leading it, and I have no plans for it after that. Part of me, the structuralist, wants to find a way to bring it back in at the end, and part of me thinks that would overcomplicate an already intricate story. What I hadn't considered before reading Peat's blog was that having it seem to be important and then fade out might actually serve the story by making its shape less obvious.
Interested in any other thoughts about this (the general point, not my example).
When reading the following article by MD Presley some of my thoughts on this started to coalesce as to just why its so important not to let the story's shape be so obvious.
I believe that at the very heart of storytelling, the most important thing is that we are asking our audience to agree with us that we’re saying is something that could have happened. It’s often hung with a million caveats, like magic being real or owls and pussycats going boating together, but we are saying either “This is what happened” or “Maybe this could have happened”. We storytellers are nothing without credibility. Even the most far-fetched absurdist is sunk if people start going “but no one would react like that, this isn’t real at all”. Not that it has to be real mind; it just has to feel real. We are in the business of selling verisimilitude.
Which is why things like Chekhov’s Gun is important. Our audience know we’re liars (if I ever make it I’m having professional liar put on my business cards) and they’re okay with it, but they want a framework to the lies so they can play along at home. It has to make sense. It has to feel real. We can’t have things suddenly appear out of nowhere because that makes them remember that they’re not real. So far so obvious.
But of course there is an issue and that is the one Matt has identified – it is telegraphing what will happen. And if it telegraphs too much, if we start running out of ways to the use the gun, then he shape of the story is too obvious. And if something is too obvious, if it feels too convenient, it begins to press against the belief that this could have happened.
How to manage this depends partly on genre. Chekhov’s Gun makes a lot of sense for those working in constrained mediums. But if one is writing Epic Fantasy, which deliberately seeks to tell the tales that don’t work in constraints, or mysteries where obfuscating the shape of the story is rather important, then it maybe shouldn't be following all that close. If one is writing both, it creates issues multiplied. But you still need framing devices. You still need foreshadowing.
One idea I’d like to suggest (it’s probably been suggested far better by someone else) is a market stall. If there is only one object of importance present in the first act, then the shroud over the story’s shape is very fragile. If there is only one object of importance and a lot of red herrings, then once we’ve disposed of the herrings, we’re back to the same problem. There’s nothing wrong with thing in and of itself, but there is if every story is some variation on those two.
If there are many objects of importance, then the reader is left with a logic puzzle of what goes where and even if they think they know one of the answers, they’re unsure. The most obvious example I can think of is the many unfulfilled prophecies and potential claimants left in GoT, but it can just as easily work with multiple crimes and multiple suspects. I can think of one detective story that answered the question of who tried to kill the victim by having it revealed that they all tried.
Is this going to work for every story? No. But then, it would be bad if this was every story as well.
I've been thinking about this the last few days in relation to the third book in my Fire Stealers series: basically (as Peat might put it) how many of the guns shown on the wall need to be fired at all, or need to have ammunition still in them by the climax, and I was cheered by his thought that in epic-type fantasy particularly (which I guess Fire Stealers is) it probably helps to have these red herrings and narrative dead ends, because they stop the shape of the story being so obvious.
And yet, something in me rebels against the idea of not having everything come together at the end and tying up in a nice Gordian bow.
The one that concerns me at the moment is that the start of my book 3 contains quite a lot about the creation of a defensive weapon, in which the main characters get involved to a greater or lesser extent. It ties in thematically, is useful to the plot at the beginning, and more importantly it is what would logically happen in those circumstances. But it won't get very far because the "project leader" will stop leading it, and I have no plans for it after that. Part of me, the structuralist, wants to find a way to bring it back in at the end, and part of me thinks that would overcomplicate an already intricate story. What I hadn't considered before reading Peat's blog was that having it seem to be important and then fade out might actually serve the story by making its shape less obvious.
Interested in any other thoughts about this (the general point, not my example).