Tag Archives: romance

Plot Driven vs. Character Driven: I do not think it means what you think it means.

Want to learn more about plotting or creating effective character journeys? Check out my free writing guides!

When I first heard the terms “plot driven” and “character driven,” I immediately wanted to classify my work as the latter. The term “plot driven” makes it sound like our characters are jerked around without motivations or any other reasons save it be that “I, the author, need you do to such-and-such.”

That’s not my story, we claim. In my story, the characters are the driving force. They make the decisions (based on the motivations which I carefully crafted for them) that bring to pass those plot action. They are more than just cookie cutter cardboard characters who get jerked around like marionettes.

This usage is so common that I feel bad for imposing the prescriptivist label of “wrong” on it, but I want to note that there are more than one way that these terms are used, and if you’re using these terms, it’s really important to understand how other people are using these terms.

At Edittorrent a couple years ago, editor Theresa Stevens defines these terms—and reminds us that they’re not mutually exclusive:

Most writers use both character and plot to drive the story forward. Keep that in mind as we go through the ideas in this post. It’s not an either/or. It’s a sometimes this/sometimes that/sometimes a blend of both.

In the simplest form, here are two definitions.

Character-driven: When something about the character’s essential self leads to a particular action or event in the story.

Plot-driven: When a character takes a particular action so that the result is a particular plot point.

(A little too abstract? Theresa gives a good example in the post.)

These definitions work on a macro level as well. When the basic story is driving toward a particular event or plot outcome, that’s technically plot-driven. When the basic story is more about the character’s internal growth and change, that’s technically character-driven.

Many genres of fiction, including mysteries, thrillers and romance, are inherently plot-driven. There is a set outcome: finding and stopping the bad guy, happily ever after, whatever. There is a perscribed plot formula—and if you violate it, writer beware.

However, as Theresa notes later in the article, these formulaic genres also have a specialized use of these terms. In romance, for example, there is both an internal plot (the romance) and usually an external plot (which might be a mystery or basically any other type of story). These plots influence one another an interact.

The internal plot, the romance, has a set outcome: happily ever after—like a plot-driven story. But the plot itself has more to do with the character’s inherent attributes, growth and change than about specific events and actions, like a character-driven story.

Conversely, the external plot, often does not have a set outcome: can they fix up this old hotel? Can they win over his domineering invalid mother? Can they overcome their business rivalry—or might they both lose/quit their jobs? This plot line is driven by events, making it plot-driven. But without a set outcome, it may or may not ultimately be a plot-driven storyline.

Confusing enough for you?

The bottom line, however, comes straight from Theresa:

Now, you’re probably wondering why this matters. Who cares if your story is plot-driven or character-driven? The truth is that the technique will not show in the final manuscript. When I read a book, I can’t tell if they started with a character or an event. And I shouldn’t be able to.

You can start with a character and generate events that suit him or her (as long as those events eventually become a coherent plot). Or you can start with plot and generate a character that suits it (as long as that character eventually becomes a consistent, rounded person). But whichever you use, the end product should most likely have both external plot and internal conflict and growth—coherent plot and rounded characters, character growth and motivated events.

(Important exception: literary fiction may be external plot optional . . . but this may or may not be why literary fiction gets a bad rap from time to time. However, character-driven plots are usually the most important aspect in literary fiction, tracking a character’s emotional journey and change.)

Want to learn more about plotting or creating effective character journeys? Check out my free writing guides!

What do you think? Do you start with plot or character? Can you tell what others start with?

Photo credits: marionette & puppeteer: Asian Art Museum; dash & wheel—Ted Fu; steam engine drive shaft—Matthew Hine

Fulfilling audience expectations on every page

As we’ve started to talk about marketing, we’ve mentioned how important your genre is. Your genre gives you a built-in audience—with built-in expectations of books in that genre. Those expectations will vary with the genre. In genres that have a fairly standard plot formula—romance (cute meet, conflict, HEA), mystery (crime, investigation, unmasking the criminal), etc.—that’s certainly part of the expectation, but in every genre there are even smaller expectations that we must fulfill to give our readers a good reading experience.

On the macro level, as we talked about in marketing,

we give readers an experience they want: excitement, fun, connection, contemplation, novelty, etc. That “emotional interest” that nonfiction creates is built in for fiction: it’s emotion itself.

Or as author/blogger/marketer Kristin Lamb wrote also last week:

Why do readers buy fiction?

One of the reasons readers are so loyal to authors is because of how that author’s stories made them feel. James Rollins makes me feel like I’ve had an exciting adventure. Sandra Brown makes me feel love is worth fighting for. Amy Tan makes me feel hope and power. J.K. Rowling’s stories make me feel heroic.

Fiction authors are brokers of passionate emotion.

While these emotional experiences are important on the story-level, we need to remember the experiences readers want on each page, or we run the risk of readers giving up on our books long before we can show them the story-level emotional experience.

Rewards Per Page

While we might not be able to fully capture heroism or adventure on a single page, or on every page, there are many, many other emotional experiences that “reward” readers on every page. Vince Mooney points out that a reader “is buying a ‘basket of feelings'” (though he narrows this to romance readers, I really feel it applies to all genres). Beyond the overall payoff of the plot, Vince says that every page should hold “rewards” for the reader—and after studying more than a thousand novels (hello, corpus literature!), he’s come up with 100 types of page-level rewards for readers.

Here are a couple of my favorites rewards he shared on Prairie Writer Chicks and Seekerville:

  • Give the reader new experiences, or interesting little factoids
  • Anticipatory Events (AEs): create situations in which the reader looks forward to finding the resolution. (And paying them off, especially quickly.)
  • Sparkle—beautiful, fresh writing
  • Humor


Vince also suggests looking at your own manuscript to find how many rewards you’re giving to your reader per page.

While the ones he lists on those blogs are fairly universal, there are going to be many rewards that vary by genre. Just as the emotional experiences readers are looking for depends on the genre, the payoffs and rewards do, too.

For example, in a romance, a romantic gesture, especially one tailored to these characters and this situation, rewards not just the characters but the readers, too. (EX: after a fight, he sends her favorite flowers, rhododendron—or better yet, mindful of her flower and food allergies, he sends a GFCFSF cookie basket.)

In a mystery, on the other hand, finding a clue is a type of reward. It can be even better if it’s a clue only a very attentive reader would notice—if the main character is distracted or has a very good explanation for it (making your characters look dumb to make a reader feel smart is not a reward—it’s actually frustrating for the reader). This might be considered a variety of an anticipated event.

And as with all other genre expectations, the best way to figure out the rewards that are most applicable to your genre is to read widely within your genre.

What do you think? What kind of rewards do you see in your genre?

Photo credits: I <3 Mr. Darcy by Jamelah E.; rhododendron by D. Mott

What keeps you reading? Romance edition part 2

On Monday, we talked about the draw of uncertainty in romance. There needs to be an element of uncertainty or conflict between the hero and heroine of a romance for readers to be truly vested and interested in the outcome. Predictability is anathema to a story question.

But sometimes, there isn’t conflict between our leads. Sometimes, the romance between them blossoms and grows without too many problems. I think the potential problem here is obvious—even the description sounds boring.

When the course of true love actually does run smooth, we still need conflict. External conflict is good—but if the story is, at its heart, a romance (or possibly a romance hybrid, like romantic suspense), that external conflict really should impact the developing relationship in some way.

Rather than continuing to speak in the abstract, let’s get concrete. A story where Lucy meets Gary, they fall in love and live happily ever after doesn’t sound compelling. Monday, our example was of Lucy meeting Gary and neither of them could tell—and perhaps weren’t sure themselves—whether they would get together, or how the other felt about him/her.

Today, our example is more along the lines of Lucy meets Gary, and Gary is a cop investigating a murder. It’s possible to write a story where the external plot basically has nothing to do with Lucy and Gary’s relationship. I wouldn’t advise that if you’re trying to write a story with the romance as a main plot. Instead, search for ways for the external plot to intersect with the romance plot.

To my mind, there are two basic categories of this intersection: where the external plot pits the hero and heroine against one another, and where the external plot simply gets in the way of their relationship.

For an example of the external plot pitting the hero against the heroine, we’ll go back to Lucy and Officer Gary. Lucy and Gary meet, and they hit it off—until Lucy has information about Gary’s homicide case that she just can’t tell him. Kaye Dacus did this subtly—the police officer hero didn’t have to directly confront the heroine he was investigating—in Love Remains. I do it in at least one of my manuscripts—the heroine has information about the criminals the hero is tracking, but she’s trying to protect him from those criminals, so she steers him away from them at every opportunity.

Alternatively, you could have the external plot simply getting in the way of their relationship. Officer Gary’s murder case interrupts Lucy and Gary’s first date. He stands her up when questioning a witness takes too long. He has to prove his commitment to the relationship by finding a balance between his work life and Lucy. (This isn’t a great example, because that’s kind of life when you’re with a cop, and PS catching a murderer is pretty important, but you get the idea.)

Finally, another way to add a level of conflict to what would be a smooth-course romance—possibly as a subset of the second type of external conflict/love story intersection—is to forbid the romance. This one is a bit harder to do in a contemporary, but many historical settings have rigid rules of fraternization and marriage. However, we can borrow a contemporary example from Shakespeare—their families are enemies, or simply do not understand one another’s cultures. Another contemporary example might be having the hero or heroine already dating someone else, especially someone close to the “real” love interest (best friend, brother, roommate, etc.).

I use this technique in a pretty specialized way in one of my manuscripts: the hero is a priest—or at least the heroine believes he is. (And yes, this is the same MS I mentioned three paragraphs ago. Seriously—read the excerpt and it’ll make more sense.)

What do you think? How do you use external conflict (or like to see it used) to add conflict between the hero and heroine in a romance?

Photo by Paul Morgan

What keeps you reading? Romance edition

This week: the return of Writing Wednesday!

I like reading. (Gasp! Shock!) However, I’ve become pickier and pickier in my reading. I no longer feel compelled to finish a book just because I started it. I have waaay too many books waiting that might be better to waste time slogging through something I don’t enjoy. And after all, isn’t that why I read? Because I enjoy it?*

So I really appreciate that the reading public’s eye-time is valuable, and I know that I have to do all I can to make any eye-time I get worthwhile. I’m always interested in what it is that keeps people reading, myself included. To me, characterspeople I care about—and mysteries—questions the story has raised that I want to see answered—are key in getting me to read on.

The “mystery” in a romance should be fairly obvious: will they get together or won’t they? I think it can work well to have the intended couple obvious toward the beginning of the story, but sometimes, it seems like the developing romance is a foregone conclusion—even to the characters. A total lack of conflict between the couple throughout the book raises no questions in my mind about the outcome. To put it bluntly: I lose interest.

Don’t get me wrong: I don’t care for a couple that squabbles bitterly throughout a novel only to do a complete 180 in the last ten pages. I don’t hold out much hope for them. But I need to be wondering about the outcome to feel compelled to read to find out what happens.

This weekend, Livia Blackburne posted a fascinating study on uncertainty in romance: when college-aged women were shown profiles of men who’d seen and rated the women’s profiles, the women were most attracted to the men when they were not told whether the men had rated them average or highly.

The uncertainty made all the difference—the women who were told the men (imaginary, by the way) rated them highly were interested, but not as much as the uncertain women. The uncertain women also reported thinking about the men more often.

For a writer, uncertainty is a powerful tool, and not just in romance. The uncertainty in any story question is a major factor in keeping people reading, and the question of a developing relationship is the biggest draw in a romance (which, it should be noted, is heavily read by women, of course).

Sometimes, though, uncertainty isn’t as viable an option. We’ll need another source of suspense in the romance, but we’ll talk about what to do in those situation—next time (Friday, I hope).

What do you think? What keeps you reading a romance?

*Enjoying reading, to me, doesn’t mean that I have to read something less-than-serious. I enjoy “thinky literature” as well as “mindless escapist genre novels” (and there’s no condescension intended!).

Photo by Courtney Carmody

The Hero (and Heroine)’s Journey–Hero’s Journey in romance

This entry is part 14 of 24 in the series The plot thickens (Mwahahaha)

by Faye Hughes

Thanks, Jordan, for allowing me to join you on your blog today. It’s such a pleasure to be here.

I’m going to be talking about plotting a romance novel using the hero’s journey paradigm. Now, first, a disclaimer: This approach works for a lot of romance novelists but it may not work for you. We’re all individuals so we all approach the plotting process from a different viewpoint . . . and you know what? That’s just fine.

The hero’s journey is based on the work of screenwriter Christopher Vogler, whose book The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers was in turn based upon his interpretation of the archetypes described by Joseph Campbell in his seminal work on mythology, The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Romance author and lecturer Debra Dixon used Vogler’s interpretations in her fabulous—and when I say, “fabulous,” I mean you REALLY need to get a copy of this if you’re writing a romance novel—book, Goal, Motivation, and Conflict.

everythingguideBasically, Vogler suggested that all fictional heroes—whether in a novel or a screenplay—would follow a similar path during the course of the story. When Vogler’s insights regarding the hero’s journey are applied to the traditional three-act paradigm for writing a romance novel, the result can flesh out the plot and give insight into character.

It can also ensure that you’ll avoid the saggy middle and other plot pitfalls.

The hero’s journey paradigm includes:

I. Act One

a. Ordinary World: The H/H (hero and heroine) are in their normal world before story begins.
b. Call to Adventure: The H/H learn of the problem, receive a challenge or the call to adventure that can lead to their romance.
c. Refusal of the Call: The hero or heroine (or both) refuses the call (due to their respective internal conflicts).
d. Meeting with the Mentor: The H/H meet with a mentor who offers advice or training.
e. Crossing the First Threshold: The H/H take the first step toward the romance (the first kiss, perhaps).

II. Act Two

a. Tests, Allies, Enemies: The H/H face and resolve their numerous non-primary conflicts and meet the secondary characters who will hinder or help them on their path to true love.
b. Approach to the Inmost Cave: The H/H encounter numerous obstacles while pursuing their primary goal (an HEA [Happily Ever After]).
c. Supreme Ordeal: A major plot point where an important secondary conflict seems to doom the romance (could also include the primary conflict peripherally, though not always).
d. Reward: The H/H overcome their secondary conflict.

III. Act Three

a. The Road Back: The H/H begin the return to their ordinary world, although the primary conflict is still unresolved.
b. Resurrection: The Dark Moment where the H/H face the loss of their romance and must use every lesson they have learned along their journey to resurrect their love.
c. Return with Elixir: The H/H return from their journey with the “elixir”—their HEA.

The reason I like using The Hero’s Journey paradigm for writing a romance is that it ensures we have all of the elements needed for a successful romance novel in our book.

One final thing, I’m offering a copy of mine and Christie’s book, The Everything Guide to Writing a Romance Novel, to one commenter, so please leave a comment. [Update: we have a winner, thanks everyone for commenting!]

Happy Writing!

About the author
Faye Hughes, a Mississippi native currently living in New York, is the award-winning author of seven highly-acclaimed novels of romantic fiction published by Bantam, Zebra and Meteor. Heralded as one of the rising stars of contemporary romantic fiction during the 1990s, Faye received two W.I.S.H. (Women In Search of a Hero) awards for her work from Romantic Times BOOKLovers Magazine. Two of her romance novels have been optioned for television movies. Her website is at www.FayeHughes.net. She and nonfiction co-author Christie Craig have a joint website at www.WritewithUs.net.