The short answer: By studying books, particularly ones that exemplify bestsellers, breakout novels, and, perhaps most importantly, masterworks in a genre, we can recognize patterns and invaluable, key elements in fiction that engage and move readers. 

How can a writer study these patterns and elements? Stories are subjective, after all. Won’t, at the end of the day, a target reader recommend a story to their friend (or not) because of their personal taste and opinion? 

There can’t be a one shoe fits all answer to masterful writing, right? 

Absolutely—personally, I have never believed in one approach to great writing. 

Still, if there’s one truth all writers can agree on, I’d argue it’s this: Stories (at least when it concerns fiction) are about change. 

This can be a character change. A change in plot (what happens from the opening page to the end). A change in perspective, beliefs, and ideas. Preferably, all the above. 

And while many great writers often learn rules to, at opportune moments, break them, this can’t be accomplished without first understanding why certain patterns exist. 

For today, let’s continue this scene analysis series with a close examination of the opening pages in Tracy Deonn’s bestselling novel Legendborn.  

It’s my hope that by absorbing the writing advice and tips that follow, you will see how a scene not only moves the plot forward and develops a character—crucial accomplishments to a well-paced novel—but also how such movement impacts the big picture, or main plotline. 

Should You Write in Scenes or Chapters?

If you’ve been following my series that contains scene analysis case studies, you probably know that I encourage writers to plan books—and write them—in scenes instead of chapters. This is a belief that my good friend and fellow book coach, Savannah Gilbo, also holds; she’s written a fantastic article on why, which I strongly encourage you to read here.

In summary, this is why I think it’s more advantageous for a writer to plan/write in scenes instead of chapters:

Scenes are a unit of story that contain a clear beginning, middle, and end. Because of this, scenes contain key elements called the Five Commandments of Storytelling—which craft resources, like Story Grid and Robert McKee’s philosophy teach. The most important commandments in scenes show how there is a dominant conflict in a scene (or Turning Point) which forces the main character in the scene to make a Crisis decision, or undergo a dilemma. 

When a character is forced to make a decision, readers learn a little bit more about who that character really is. It also reinforces that the character has agency, and because of this, their decision will cause an action that moves the plot forward. 

In other words, a scene contains a change in Value. Or, a change in something that the character values; these can range from tangible items like their very life to psychological shifts like their emotional state of being. To learn more about Values, check out this article.     

Chapters, unlike scenes, are arbitrary. They exist mainly to enhance the reader’s experience and therefore may or may not end with a complete Value shift/change. A chapter can contain multiple scenes, one scene, or an incomplete scene that carries over into the next chapter (cliff hangers are often examples of this). 

The key difference? Chapters have more control over a reader’s experience—but they don’t necessarily contain structure. 

One major reason a manuscript might fail to maintain a reader’s interest is because nothing happens—i.e. there’s no plot and structure, and therefore, there’s no developing change. 

Scenes, on the other hand, keep a story’s evolving change in check.  

Note: There are various fiction elements that make a story great. Structure is only one of them, and even if you master scene structure, you might not have a book that hooks. But, if your book doesn’t contain structure, you’re probably in for a larger overhaul when it is time to revise your draft—which is why understanding how to write scenes with strong structure can set you up for success.     

Legendborn: Chapter One Summary

For today’s case study, we’re going to look at the first chapter (not the prologue) of Tracy Deonn’s bestselling YA fantasy novel, Legendborn. I was introduced to this book when Savannah and I selected it for Book Notes, our virtual book club—and heck, it’s an entertaining read! 

In case you’ve never heard of Legendborn, take a look at the back cover here. 

For today’s analysis, we will only look at the first chapter—which I believe contains two scenes. Here is a summary of the plot event that unravels in that first chapter:

Bree Matthews (the protagonist) and her best friend Alice watch students from UNC jump off a cliff into a deep pool of water at Eno River State Park. (This happens three months after Bree’s mother died suddenly in an accident.) Alice is upset that they’re breaking school rules but they attended because Charlotte, Bree and Alice’s friend from Bentonville, invited them. After they talk to Charlotte’s boyfriend, Evan, Bree worries about how people react to her mom’s death. She feels her personality and identity has been split into two parts: before her mom’s death (Before-Bree) and after her mom’s death (After-Bree). Bree stays behind when Alice goes off with Charlotte and Evan. She contemplates cliff jumping, but a guy named Selwyn Kane (Sel) appears and warns her not to jump. Bree feels electricity when Sel looks at her. He grabs her wrists and asks her if she feels something, but Bree lies (she says no).

In the distance, shouts from the party interrupt Bree and Sel. Sel runs towards them and Bree follows. They find four football players fighting. Bree also spies a shimmering object above the combatants. No one else—except Sel—sees what Bree sees (this ends up being a key antagonist in the story). This triggers haunting thoughts about her mother in Bree, and Sel, who makes eye contact with Bree, telepathically commands her to leave.

Legendborn: Chapter One Scene Analysis

I mentioned above that I see two scenes in this opening chapter, which indicates that there are two Value shifts in this scene, as well as two separate wants/objectives. The main character in this scene is the protagonist, Bree Matthews, and so it’s Bree’s want/goal that I focus on when identifying what she’s trying to accomplish in this scene and how the Five Commandments of Storytelling challenge Bree’s ability to achieve each want/goal. 

To refresh your memory on the Five Commandments of Storytelling or how I analyze scenes with these tools, review this article. 

Now, let’s break down this chapter into two scenes using the Five Commandments of Storytelling to confirm how there is a Value shift in each scene that moves the plot forward and challenges Bree’s character.

Scene One

Bree’s Goal: Enjoy a fun night out at the Quarry. Also, distract herself from the memories of her mother, which consume her thoughts when she’s alone.

The Five Commandments of Storytelling:

1. Inciting Incident (the unexpected disturbance that creates the goal/want or interrupts it): Evan (Charlotte’s boyfriend) recognizes Bree as “the girl whose mom died.”

2. Turning Point (an action or revelation that forces Bree into a Crisis): Alice wants to leave to avoid getting in trouble.

3. Crisis (two equally weighted good or bad options that come with consequences): Should Bree go back to the dorm room with Alice, or stay out with the other kids and risk getting into trouble?

4. Climax (the direct action that Bree takes based on her Crisis): Bree says she’ll meet up with Alice later.

5. Resolution (the aftermath of the scene, where the protagonist stands after the climax): Bree meets (and has a strange encounter with) Sel; somewhere in the distance, Alice screams.

Looking at this scene, I can assess that there is a change in Value from beginning to end. This change impacts the main stakes of the novel (Life/Death or Danger/Safety).

While I encourage writers not to fester on the perfect words to describe a Value shift, you should be able to defend why you think a change in some Value exists—as well as why that shift impacts the big picture as well as the scene. 

For this first scene, I argue there is a shift from Safety to (Slight) Danger because Bree’s decision to stay out results in her meeting Sel, as well as a close encounter with a corporal demon.

Scene Two

Bree’s Goal: Find Alice and figure out what made her scream like that. 

The Five Commandments of Storytelling:

1. Inciting Incident: Bree sees a flicker of light that triggers a memory.

2. Turning Point: Sel mesmers Bree, asking her to leave (but it doesn’t work 100%).

3. Crisis: Leave in order to find Alice and Charlotte (bury her curiosity like she does her grief) or stay to figure out what’s happening?

4. Climax: Bree hesitates and smoke and flame envelop Sel.

5. Resolution: Bree sees Sel and Tor take down the creature with magic. The creature says it’s feeding, but not by “my gate.” Bree runs.

Value shift? (Slight) Danger > (Extreme) Danger

Well-Structure Scenes Create a Purposeful Change

Since these are the first pages in Legendborn, and the main stakes in the story do concern Bree’s (and other’s) life/death or safety/danger, it’s not surprising that the scenes in chapter one directly impact Bree’s direct safety/danger. However, not every scene will prioritize the life/death or safety/danger stakes. 

Most every scene should, however, impact Bree’s movement towards life or death in the big picture or main plotline. I think it’s safe to say that these opening pages definitely accomplish this—all while championing other key fiction elements, like a captivating narrative voice, deep, emotional themes involving grief and race, and an exciting magic system with high stakes.  

In other words, as the author of your stories, you should be able to defend why every scene has a purpose or needs to exist. It’s likely that your defense will come down to this: the story event moves the plot forward in a cause-and-effect trajectory towards the climatic moment—and the main Conflict-Crisis in the scene enforces agency in the protagonist.

If you can explain how your scenes create events that cause a character to make a Crisis decision, you should also be able to explain how your scenes create a major change in the scene that also impacts the big picture. 

And if you can do this, you’re well on your way to drafting an engaging story.     

How many scenes do you see in the first chapter of Legendborn? How did you analyze it with the Five Commandments? Let me know in the comments! 

P.S. Do you enjoy analyzing stories closely? Learn more about the virtual book club, Book Notes, which Abigail co-hosts with book coach Savannah Gilbo. Click here >> 

Abigail K. Perry is the host of the podcast Lit Match and a certified developmental editor who specializes in Upmarket Book Club Fiction, Women’s Fiction, Curio Fiction, and YA fantasy. She holds a B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and a Masters in Secondary Education from Endicott College. Abigail worked as an editorial intern and the Agency Relations Assistant for P.S. Literary Agency, is fluent in book and movie quotes, and loves a long walk with good company, which includes audiobooks and two- and four-legged babies and buddies.  You can learn more from Abigail on her podcast or follow her on Twitter and Instagram.

The post First Chapter Scene Analysis: Legendborn by Tracy Deonn appeared first on DIY MFA.

Writers who learn how to read like writers inevitably improve their craft in immeasurable ways. The longer you read like a writer—and the more accurately you do this—the higher likelihood you notice what does and doesn’t work in a scene, while other scenes grip your attention with ferocious intensity.

In this article, I continue my series on analyzing first chapters with a deep dive analysis. To do this, I’ll breakdown the first scene in the bestselling novel, The Midnight Library, and then explain how it “works” using editing tools from The Story Grid and Robert McKee.

What is a Scene that Works?

When I coach writers, especially when evaluating the strength of a scene, I assess if a scene works. What I mean by this is: Does the scene advance the plot, or move the story forward, and develop the character by forcing one or more main characters to face a dilemma, or make a crisis decision. 

If a character makes a crisis decision, then they take action that results in negative or positive consequences for themself or someone or something else. Plus, readers learn who characters really are through action, or this act of decision making, which is why including a crisis moment—that isn’t necessarily spelled out on the page—is so important. 

Most importantly, a well-structured scene confirms that important changes have happened from beginning to end. 

And all scenes—and stories—are about change.  

Case Study: The Midnight Library

For today’s case study of a well-structured scene, let’s look at the second chapter of Matt Haig’s bestselling novel, The Midnight Library, which starts on page five, and is called “The Man at the Door.” I chose to analyze this chapter instead of the first chapter, “A Conversation about Rain,” because: 

1. The first chapter works as a prologue in disguise more than a first chapter established in the Nora Seed’s present time, and
2. I don’t think the first chapter is actually a complete scene—even though it hooks readers! 

If you’re curious to learn more about the first and second chapter analysis of The Midnight Library, you’re welcome to listen to my conversation with book coach Sharon Skinner on my podcast, Lit Match, here.

However, for now, let’s turn to that second chapter, which does model a complete scene. To do this, first review the scene synopsis (read it yourself here) and answer two Socratic questions adapted from The Story Grid’s scene analysis template:

• Confirm if there is a value shift, or change in the scene, on various layers. 
• Review how five commandments can subjectively confirm if the scene advances the plot and develops the main character(s) or not.

Scene Summary, The Midnight Library, “The Man at the Door”

Nora Seed, depressed, scrolls through the happy lives of other people on social media. Then Ash, a man who once asked Nora out years ago, rings her doorbell. Nora is self-conscious about answering the door, since she’s not put together. She answers the door anyway and tries to have a light-hearted conversation with Ash, but Ash shares some bad news: He thinks a car hit and killed Nora’s cat, Voltaire (Volts). Nora confirms Volt’s body and cries for him, while secretly confessing to herself that she feels envious of him.  

3 Socratic Questions to Evaluate A Value Change 

In order to determine if there is a change in a scene, you can ask yourself three Socratic questions about it. Each question identifies an important change that needs to happen in a scene.  

1. What are the characters literally doing? How does that change from beginning to end? (An external value change) 

Nora Seed scrolls through social media and has a conversation with a man she somewhat knows, and later confirms that her cat, Volts, is dead. 

Literal Change: In her house to on the road

2. What does the main character in the scene want, what is their goal? How does this change or evolve from beginning to end? (An internal value change) 

Nora Seed wants to scroll through social media alone—probably so that she can compare her unhappy lives to other happy lives on social media. She does this because she’s depressed, and later her envious feelings for her dead cat confirm her depressed feelings. 

Character Change: Sad to Envious 

3. How does the change in this scene impact the big picture, particularly the main value shift? 

This scene shows Nora Seed twenty-seven hours before she decides to die—it also presents her with the first of several losses (Volt’s death, which she realizes that she’s envious of) that push her to this decision.

Big Picture Value Change: Longing for Another’s Life to Longing for Death 

5 Commandments in a Well-Structured Scene 

To read like a writer and determine if a scene is well-structured, you can use five commandments, or elements of a scene, to determine if the plot moves forward and if one or more main characters change in the scene. I pull these commandments from editing tools seen in The Story Grid and Robert McKee. 

1. Inciting Incident 

This is a causal or coincidental unexpected disturbance that creates a character goal or forces the character to change their approach in achieving their goal.

This is when Ash rings the doorbell.  

2. Turning Point

This is an action or revelation (a type of conflict) that forces a character to make a crisis decision. 

This is when Ash tells Nora that her cat is dead.   

3. Crisis

This is a best bad choice or irreconcilable goods decision, two equally weighted decisions, that results in negative or positive consequences for either the main character or a third party. 

This is Nora’s decision: Should Nora risk emotional trauma to confirm her cat’s dead body, or reject Ash’s suspicion that it’s Volts who the car hit and killed?

4. Climax

This is the direct action that a character takes after they make their decision.

This is when Nora leaves her house to find Volts.   

5. Resolution

This is the aftermath of the scene, the denouement. 

This is when Nora finds Volts, cries, and secretly feels envious of his death.    

Why You Should Learn How to Read Like a Writer  

I firmly believe that there is no one way to learn how to write. However, using the tools shared in this article has helped me learn how to read like a writer well—and therefore, simultaneously has made it easier for me to pull out when I think a scene does or does not work. 

Like anything, with practice and more time spent reading, we all can learn how to read like a writer. When we do this, we learn how to take an implicit understanding of story patterns and turn it into an explicit awareness of how a well-structured scene works. We then can communicate why we think a scene does or doesn’t work, whether this is for a critique partner’s work or our own scenes.  

Writers who read like writers will elevate their craft! And I bet, the more that you understand how to read like a writer, the more fun you’ll have analyzing and editing your own stories, too. 

So have fun with this! Pull up one of your favorite chapters from a comparable title and use these tools to identify what you think works in that scene. 

And if you want to learn more about how to read like a writer, check out episodes like The Midnight Library deep dive analysis on my podcast, Lit Match, here.

How did you analyze this chapter in The Midnight Library? I’d love to hear from you in the comments!

Abigail K. Perry is the host of the podcast Lit Match and a certified developmental editor who specializes in Upmarket/Commercial fiction, Women’s Fiction, Historical Fiction, MG/YA fiction, and YA fantasy. Abigail holds a B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and a Masters in Secondary Education from Endicott College. Abigail worked as an editorial intern and the Agency Relations Assistant for P.S. Literary Agency, is fluent in book and movie quotes, and loves a long walk with good company, which includes audiobooks and two- and four-legged loved ones and buddies.  You can reach her on her podcast or follow her on Twitter or Instagram.

The post First Chapter Analysis: <em>The Midnight Library</em> appeared first on DIY MFA.

Of course, a strong first chapter is only one step in entertaining your readers. To hold their attention to the end, you need to write a great book. 

One of the skills that can help a writer do this is if they learn how to read like a writer. This means that the writer needs to learn how to identify when and how details in a chapter aid a story on both the macro (big picture) and micro (scene) level. 

Writers who understand how to read like writers are more likely to intentionally and confidently cut out passages that don’t move their story forward or develop characters (or other important story elements, like setting) during their revision, and possibly even writing, process. Their scenes and chapters are more likely to shape the best version of themselves in earlier drafts. 

If you’ve been following along with my series of articles on DIY MFA that use a scene analysis template to analyze the strength of a scene’s structure, you’ll understand what to expect in the rest of this article. If you’re unfamiliar with these previous articles, don’t fret! I’ll explain the tools and questions you can use to analyze the durability of a scene’s structure in this article.

Scene Analysis Template: How to Assess Structure in a Scene and Chapter 

Before we get into today’s article, I’d like to note that I find great value in analyzing a scene’s structure in order to determine if key elements exist in a scene. This helps me determine if I think a scene “works,” or, as I like to say, if a scene advances a plot and develops a character. 

I adapted the scene analysis I use from Story Grid, an editing methodology that I am trained in; the main focus of the scene analysis template determines if there is a clear character goal/want in the scene, a value shift that impacts the big picture (or main value shift in the story), and five commandments that challenge a character and force them to make a decision that shifts that scene’s value (more on these in a bit). 

Keep in mind, while plot and structure are undeniably important in a scene’s workability, writers must master other essential story factors to make it entertaining and relatable. Characters, for example, are, in my opinion, the heart of a story. 

That being said, I’ve found that if a writer can understand how structure works on the scene level, they can fix some major issues that create scenes where nothing significant happens—and this is a valuable writing and editing skill to learn if you are in a place of feeling like something is off in your scenes, but you’re unable to pinpoint exactly what the issue is. 

Case Study: Counterfeit by Kirstin Chen 

For today’s article, I’d like to look at a bestselling upmarket crime novel and Reese Witherspoon book club pick—Counterfeit by Kirstin Chen. When reading it, I was immediately hooked by its clever first chapter which uses point of view. A stranger comes to town encounter, and a reader’s growing skepticism to turn the page.

I had the pleasure of interviewing Kirstin Chen and her editor, Jessica Williams (Harper Collins), for a deep dive analysis episode on my podcast Lit Match (listen to the full episode here). In it, you can hear insightful perspectives on how this first chapter sets up expectations for the big picture. 

We then also did a deep dive analysis on the first chapter’s scene structure, which I’m going to share with you here. 

Let’s get into it! 

Scene Analysis Template: Counterfeit, First Chapter 

*NOTE: As previously mentioned, I adapted this scene analysis template from Story Grid’s writing toolbox. The four Socratic questions (I’ve reworded them but they are the foundational ideas) and the five commandments are what Story Grid uses in their masterwork guide analysis books.*

Chapter One:

“The first thing I noticed were the eyes… which is more than can be said for those Hollywood brats.”

Summary: 

Ava Wong meets up with her old college roommate, Winnie Fang, who called Ava after twenty years of silence. Over coffee, Ava learns that Winnie has a friend who needs a transplant and Winnie hopes Ava can get her husband to help. Ava is annoyed until her son, Henri, throws a tantrum, and Winnie calms him down by singing to him in Chinese. Winnie then gives Henri an expensive keychain from her designer handbag. Ava is horrified when she realizes that Winnie gave Henri a Fendi keychain, and later Ana tries to purchase one as a replacement—she quickly forsakes this intent after she finds it for $600. Ava spends the evening reminiscing about why Winnie left Stanford and how Ava, like her friends, thought Winnie was guilty of cheating. And all of this is discussed between Ava and a detective.   

4 Socratic Questions that Analyze a Change in a Scene:

1. What is the literal change in the scene? How does this advance the plot in some way?

Ava and Winnie become friends again after coffee; Ava even invites Winnie to her home after Winnie calms down Henri. 

Literal Change: Friends who had a fall out to Friends starting up a relationship again 

2. What does the main character want in this scene? Why do they want this?

At first, Ava meets Winnie because she’s curious. She wants to know why Winnie contacted her after twenty years of silence. During the meeting (and after Winnie asks Ava if she’ll connect her friend with Ava’s husband), Henri arrives. At this point, Ava wants to quiet Henri.

On a global perspective, Ava wants to convince the detective that she’s innocent. 

Character Change: Curious to Exasperated to Relieved 

3. How does the change in the scene impact the value shift in the central plot (big picture)? 

This is the initial (stranger comes to town) meeting between Ava and Winnie. From here, Ava will bond with Winnie and find relief in Winnie’s ability to calm down her son. Without this initial meeting, Ava and Winnie would not rejuvenate their friendship and eventually join together in order to run a counterfeit handbag business. 

Central Plot Value Change: Innocent to Tempted  

4. How does the main conflict in the scene create a story event? Describe this story event in one sentence.

 *Note: a story event exists when a protagonist’s wants/goal directly conflict’s with an antagonist’s wants/goal.*
Ava shares her initial meeting with Winnie after twenty years of silence, and how Winnie started to grow close again after Winnie helped calm down Ava’s son, Henri. All of this, along with some of Winnie’s darker past, is recounted by Ava to a detective.        

5 Commandments in Scene Structure: 

1. Inciting Incident (Causal or Coincidental): 

Causal. Henri has a meltdown. Another idea is that this scene starts in medias res, and the inciting incident is when Winnie calls Ava to request a meeting. 

2. Turning Point (Action or Revelation): 

Action. Winnie sings to Henri in Chinese and hands him a Fendi keychain, which calms him down. 

3. Crisis Decision (Best Bad Choice or Irreconcilable Goods): 

Best Bad Choice: Does Ava invite Winnie back to her house even though she’s skeptical of Winnie’s intentions, or does Ava say goodbye to Winnie even though she’s one of the only people who has been able to calm Henri down?  

4. Climax: 

Ava invites Winnie back to her house. 

5. Resolution: 

Ava and Winnie start up their friendship again. Ava realizes how expensive Winnie’s keychain is and tries to find a replacement for it. Ava gives up on this mission when she finds it for $600. All this is explained to the detective that Ava is talking to in the scene. 

How Did You Analyze this First Chapter?

If you want to write a great first chapter, you need to know how to analyze how the details both set up expectations for the big picture and develop a well-structured scene. 

We focused on scene structure today, and how I thought the five commandments and story event worked in the first chapter of Counterfeit. 

The beauty of my analysis, however, is that it’s just one perspective. You might see the scene structure differently, and that’s okay! The goal for learning how to read like a writer with this scene analysis template isn’t to come up with replicated answers. Instead, we can use it to come up with an agreeable conclusion about how the story moves forward, and why there is a change in value and character because of a story event.  

When you start to master these tools used to analyze scenes, you’ll probably gain confidence on how to write and revise scenes. It also is a fun way to learn how to read like a writer, which inevitably will make you a better writer of your own stories. Cue your happy dance! 

What did you like about the first chapter of Counterfeit? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments. 

P.S. If you enjoyed this article and would like to learn more about how to analyze the big picture and scenes in a first chapter, I have some good news for you!

My editor and book coach companion, Savannah Gilbo, and I started a virtual book club to discuss the big and small picture of publishing’s most popular books with burgeoning writers. Come join us for our first discussion (and others to follow!). Learn more here.

Abigail K. Perry is the host of the podcast Lit Match and a certified developmental editor who specializes in Upmarket/Commercial fiction, Women’s Fiction, Historical Fiction, MG/YA fiction, and YA fantasy. Abigail holds a B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and a Masters in Secondary Education from Endicott College. Abigail worked as an editorial intern and the Agency Relations Assistant for P.S. Literary Agency, is fluent in book and movie quotes, and loves a long walk with good company, which includes audiobooks and two- and four-legged loved ones and buddies.  Visit Abigail’s website at www.abigailkperry.com. You can also follow her on Twitter or Instagram and subscribe to her podcast.

The post First Chapter Analysis: Counterfeit by Kirstin Chen appeared first on DIY MFA.

If you want to publish your manuscript, you need to learn how to write well-structured scenes that hook and engage your readers. You also need to learn how to balance fun and important details that work with structure. 

In other words, you need a scene where every line weaves together—where no detail is needless or wasted. 

To help you gain confidence in how you write and analyze your own scenes, I’m working on a series of articles for DIY MFA that look closely at strong scenes. Specifically, I provide my subjective analysis of a first chapter from a bestselling book.

All of the chapters that I select are, in my opinion, well-structured and strong examples of how to not only start a book, but write a scene and chapter. 

You can learn more about the fundamentals of my big picture (central plot, setting up expectations in a first chapter) and small picture (scene analysis) in the linked DIY MFA articles.

For today, let’s continue our analysis studies with a small picture first chapter scene analysis of Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue. 

Afterwards, I’ll share why I chose to analyze this first chapter as one scene instead of multiple. 

Here we go!   

First Chapter Analysis: Red, White & Royal Blue

*NOTE: I have adapted this scene analysis template from Story Grid’s writing toolbox. The four Socratic questions (I’ve reworded them but they are the foundational ideas) and the five commandments are what Story Grid uses in their masterwork guide analysis books.*

Chapter One:

“On the White House roof…flash from someone’s camera goes off.” 

Summary (2-4 sentences):

Alex and his sister, June, attempt to put on a happy face when they attend the Royal wedding, but Prince Henry’s insipid demeanor agitates Alex. Henry asks June to dance and Alex decides to get increasingly more drunk. Eventually, Alex feels so irritated with Henry that he confronts him. When Henry points out that Alex acts like he is “obsessed” with Henry and then Henry turns his back on Alex, Alex tugs Henry’s shoulder. For a moment, it looks like Henry will push Alex—but he doesn’t. Alex trips over his feet and accidentally pulls Henry down with him; they topple over and ruin the $75,000 wedding cake.   

4 Socratic Questions that Analyze a Change in a Scene:

1. What is the literal change in the scene? How does this advance the plot in some way?

In America, Alex pokes fun at a false rumor about his romantic relationships. By the end of the scene, Alex is in serious trouble after causing an altercation with Prince Henry at the Royal wedding. 

OTS: Poking fun at the press to publicly humiliate (which is exacerbated by the press).

Others: America to Great Britain  

2. What does the main character in the scene want? Why do they want this?

Alex wants to get through the Royal wedding without getting into an altercation with Henry because—even though Alex doesn’t mind messing with the tabloids—his long-term goal is to be the youngest congressman in elected history. Alex also recognizes that he has a rivalry with Henry, and he, essentially, wants to be the better of the two.

ATS: Entertained to humiliated

Others: Humored to horrified; contained bitterness to active loathing.   

3. How does the change in the scene impact the value shift in the central plot (big picture)? 

Alex obsesses over what Henry thinks about him but also loathes Henry and views him as arrogant and as competition. Alex’s altercation with Henry will force them to spend more time together, even if this is initially against their will. 

BTS: Dislike to loathing (potentially this masks Alex’s unrecognized attraction to Henry)  

4. How does the main conflict in the scene create a story event? Describe this story event in one sentence.

Alex attends the royal wedding and causes an altercation with Prince Henry that results in the destruction of the $75,000 wedding cake.         

5 Commandments in Scene Structure: 

1. Inciting Incident (Causal or Coincidental): Causal. June reminds Alex about the royal wedding that they need to attend. 

2. Turning Point (Action or Revelation): Action. Henry turns his back on Alex after he passively points out that Alex appears to be obsessed with Henry—Henry says that Alex often seeks Henry out. 

3. Crisis Decision (Best Bad Choice or Irreconcilable Goods): Best Bad Choice. Should Alex swallow his pride and let Henry get the last word or should he challenge Henry?

4. Climax: Alex pulls Henry’s shoulder back. 

5. Resolution: Henry looks like he might push Alex but doesn’t. Alex trips over his own foot and topples backwards. On his way down, he reaches for Henry and they both smash into the $75,000 wedding cake. Alex dreads how his mother will react to this debacle just as someone’s camera goes off. 

Why One Scene? 

I had to read this chapter a few times before confidently analyzing this first chapter as one scene instead of three scenes. Depending on how you analyze scenes (or have been taught to analyze scenes), you may use a set time and place to determine how a scene begins and ends. 

Before I studied Story Grid (especially in screenwriting, which is my background), I also used a change in setting or time as a change in scene. 

Story Grid’s methodology, however, doesn’t restrict a scene’s start and end to a set time and place. Instead, it concentrates on the value change and polarity shift, which is the purpose of a scene. 

The reason for this is that readers have a sense, consciously or not, that the plot has advanced if there is a change or shift in a scene.  

This also means that there has been a change that raised the main stakes for the novel, and these stakes have developed a character because they’ve been forced to make a Crisis Decision—i.e. Characters who make decisions take action, and action moves the plot forward. 

Overall, I think that all three encounters in the first chapter of Red, White & Royal Blue are interesting (Encounter One: Alex talks to June in the White House, Encounter Two: Alex, June, and Nora fly to Great Britain, and Encounter Three: the royal wedding). However, I couldn’t pinpoint an effective Crisis Decision in the first two encounters—even if there is a page break that separates each encounter, indicating a change in time and place. 

From my perspective, I saw each encounter—even though they are set in a different place and time—as moments that introduced conflict and complicated stakes that eventually led to the Royal wedding and the main crisis in the scene: Alex’s altercation with Prince Henry. 

I believe the main event in the first chapter, being this altercation, impacts the love stakes in the central plot (big picture) best, so I wanted to focus my analysis on that moment. 

While others might argue that there are three scenes in this first chapter, I’d argue that there is one scene in one chapter based on how I use Story Grid’s five commandments and their scene analysis template. 

Alex doesn’t make his Crisis Decision until the royal wedding. How he acts on his crisis causes a change in value, whereas Alex’s reactions in the first two sections—or what I’ve called encounters—(June reminds Alex about the royal wedding and then Alex, June, and Nora judge the extravagance of the wedding on the plane) demonstrate a change in behavior or tactic. 

A change in behavior or tactic is a beat, not a scene. 

A scene requires a change in value—which I believe all three encounters together create. 

How did you Analyze this First Chapter?

If you want to write a great first chapter, you need to know how to analyze how the details both set up expectations for the big picture and develop a well-structured scene. 

We focused on scene structure today, and I argued that because of how I understand Story Grid’s five commandments that the first chapter in Red, White & Royal Blue is one scene. 

The beauty of my analysis, however, is that it’s just one perspective. You might see the scene structure differently, and that’s okay! 

It’s not important that you and I have the exact same analysis for this first chapter. Instead, focus on how to use the four Socratic questions and five commandments to analyze scenes of all kinds—and then use them to defend your analysis. 

When you start to master these tools, you’ll probably gain confidence that will help you make decisions about when to keep or cut moments from your manuscript. 

These decisions are hard to make! 

I hope these tools make your revision process and all the hard work that comes with it fun and interesting.

If they did and you want to learn more about how to analyze scenes, check out more of my articles on DIY MFA or take a listen to one of my first chapter analysis episodes on my podcast, Lit Match. 

How did you analyze the first chapter of Red, White & Royal Blue? I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments! 

Abigail K. Perry is the host of the podcast Lit Match and a certified developmental editor who specializes in Upmarket/Commercial Book Club Fiction, Historical Fiction, and YA fiction and fantasy. Abigail holds a B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and a Masters in Secondary Education from Endicott College. Abigail worked as an editorial intern and the Agency Relations Assistant for P.S. Literary Agency, is fluent in book and movie quotes, and loves a long walk with good company, which includes audiobooks and two- and four-legged buddies.  Learn more about writing and publishing from Abigail on her podcast, Lit Match, or her website.

The post First Chapter Analysis: Red, White & Royal Blue appeared first on DIY MFA.

One way you can learn how to write a great first chapter is by studying books from the masters, especially in your genre but also outside of it. 

In my last article on how to start a book, I reviewed seven key questions you should ask yourself when analyzing your first chapter (before sending it to readers, and especially before you query a literary agent), courtesy of literary agent and author Paula Munier’s book THE WRITER’S GUIDE TO BEGINNINGS.

These seven questions focus on the big picture, the big idea, that makes the story stand out.

Today, I’d like to teach you how to, after you’ve solidified those seven key questions and how they work in your first chapter, strengthen the structure of your first chapter’s scene (or scenes). 

To do this, let’s look at, in my opinion, one of the best first chapters in a book—and that also starts a series: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.

To Write a Great Scene, Learn How to Analyze One

One of my favorite tools to use in order to analyze a scene and determine its quality is the five commandments, pulled from the Story Grid methodology.

I first learned these tools after reading (and later getting certified in) Story Grid. If you’re unfamiliar with the five commandments and other important elements to ask about a scene’s  “workability,” you can read my article on the Story Grid scene analysis template. 

As we walk through these commandments and how they work in the first scene (I think there are two scenes total) in the first chapter of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, I will briefly explain each. 

Quick Note: I completed this analysis in conversation with my good friend and a certified book coach and developmental editor, Savannah Gilbo, Savannah (as the writer) and I (as her editor) have worked closely with Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone over the last two years; Savannah is writing the Story Grid Masterwork Guide for it.  

Summary of Chapter One, Scene One: The Boy Who Lived 

The first chapter in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone is particularly interesting because, although it’s not labeled as such, it really works as a prologue in disguise. 

Part of this is because, when the story opens, Harry Potter is a baby—and babies are too young to follow a limited perspective. 

For this reason, the first chapter, although still written in third person limited POV, sticks closely to Vernon Dursley (scene one, chapter one) and Dumbledore (scene two, chapter one).

Although there are two scenes in the first chapter, I’m only going to analyze the first scene today, which follows grumpy Vernon Dursley as he desperately attempts to avoid any oddities he crosses—of which there are many. 

Here’s a quick summary of the scene:

Mr. (Vernon) Dursley hears and sees strange things on his way to work. He sees a cat reading a newspaper, people dressed in ridiculous robes, owls fly throughout the town—and there’s even the mention of the Potter family and their son, Harry—which stresses out Vernon.

In this scene, all Vernon wants is to go to work and think about drills. He wants nothing to do with anything abnormal, and in general, despises anything that’s out of the ordinary. But the oddities of the day disrupt Vernon’s search for average (if not boring). 

After Vernon hears about the Potter family—the same last name of his wife Petunia’s sister—Vernon debates about telling Petunia. He convinces himself that he’s overreacting and that all the nonsense he’s hearing about will go away.

Of course, every Harry Potter fan knows Vernon couldn’t be more wrong.  

How to Analyze Vernon Dursley’s Scene

Before we get into the five commandments, it’s important to confirm important details that will impact our analysis and how the scene changes. 

These include:

1. What does Vernon want and why? Vernon wants to have a normal day. This is his goal throughout the scene, and this goal becomes increasingly more difficult to achieve as more oddities get in the way. 
2. What conflict does Vernon face in the scene? All of the abnormalities that distract Vernon from his one-way focus on drills (his line of work). The main conflict in the scene surfaces when a person mentions the Potter family and their son Harry—this threatens Vernon because it may mean that the source of these oddities could impact his family personally.  
3. What changes in the scene? In order to determine if a scene works, we need to see how a scene changes. This means that something valuable to the character changes and there is a polarity shift. For Vernon, the main value that threatens him is safety—in a way, his sense of security is threatened by the potential that these oddities could impact him directly. A value change of something like normal to abnormal or unconcerned to delusionally secure could work. You could also zoom out and look at Harry’s safety level and the change in this scene even though we follow Vernon’s POV, but for this analysis’s sake let’s stick to Vernon, who is the POV driving this scene. 

Now that we know some story elements that the five commandments will impact, we can understand why the five commandments unfold as they do—and why this confirms an advancement in plot and a development in character.

Inciting Incident 

The Inciting Incident in a story or scene is an unexpected disturbance/event that either throws off a character’s story/scene goal or want, and therefore forces them to come up with a new approach in order to get that goal or want, or creates a scene goal or want. 

An Inciting Incident is either causal (a person causes the disturbance) or coincidental (a coincidence causes the disturbance). 

The Inciting Incident in the first scene in HPSS is: Vernon overhears chatter about the Potter family and their son Harry—and that they might have something to do with all of the oddities and celebratory events going on. 

This Inciting Incident makes it difficult for Vernon to ignore, and is the first real disturbance that makes him unsuccessful in returning to his normal day where he thinks about drills. He now worries about the Potters, and if his family is going to be forced to deal with strange events.  

Turning Point

The Turning Point in the scene is an action or revelation that a character can no longer ignore—even to ignore it would lead to consequences of some sort. For this reason, the TP forces a character into a Crisis Decision.

The Turning Point for the first scene in HPSS is: Vernon lightly mentions the Potters to Petunia and she snaps at him. 

This is one, if not the only, time in the series that Petunia talks back to Vernon. Her reaction is sharp and abrasive, and not one that Vernon, based on his reaction, expects or wants to irritate. This throws him into a Crisis Decision.

Crisis Decision

The Crisis Decision is a choice or dilemma that the main character in the scene must make. Inevitably, their choice will result in consequences either for themselves or for a third party. 

This choice is also the foundation and most important element in the scene (paired with the TP). If there is no TP and Crisis Decision, there is no scene because without a character acting on a crisis decision, there is no change in value or polarity. 

The Crisis Decision in the first scene in HPSS could be phrased as: Should Vernon push Petunia about the Potters despite her negative reaction to the mere mention of them, or should he ignore this conversation and convince himself that everything will be okay?

Climax

The Climax is the action that the character makes based on their Crisis Decision. This action proves that there is either a negative or positive change in the scene—which also determines if a scene advances and if a character is developed. 

The Climax is immediate, following the Crisis Decision.

The Climax in the first scene in HPSS is: Vernon decides to hold his tongue. 

Resolution

The Resolution is everything that follows the Climax. These actions and character reflections determine where a character is following the Climax, which further proves how the scene is changed. 

The Resolution in the first scene in HPSS is: Vernon convinces himself that the Potters couldn’t be responsible for the day’s abnormal events, and that his family will be surely left alone. Vernon is delusional in this belief, which the last narrative line insinuates. Nonetheless, he goes to bed convinced nothing will change.  

Writers Who Know How to Edit Become Better Writers 

In order to sell and engage stories, writers need to set up and satisfy reader expectations. Studying writing and editing tools like the seven key questions to ask about first chapters (to determine the big picture and writing) and how a scene works (the scene level or small picture of a story) can help writers become better editors of stories, including their own manuscripts. 

Often, the first step in polishing a great first chapter is understanding what makes a great first chapter and why. This is one of many reasons it’s so important that writers consistently read and analyze stories, especially masterworks.

The cool reality of this is that stories are, in the end, subjective. So, how I see a scene move and change based on the five commandments might be different than how you see it. 

The point of using tools like the five commandments to analyze and study the structure in first chapters isn’t to come up with the same analysis (although that is nice), but rather have a sound perspective on why a scene engages a reader with important needs like advancing the plot and developing characters.  

One final thought: Don’t worry if these commandments take some time to sink in! 

Analyzing stories, like writing them, is a lifelong craft. Try to have fun with it, and practice these tools on other first chapters. 

Better yet, share your analysis of this scene or the second chapter in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone in the comments. That way, we can practice and discuss our analysis together! 

P.S. If you’d like to listen to Savannah’s and my full analysis of the first chapter in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, download our podcast episodes, found on Lit Match and Fiction Writing Made Easy. 

Lit Match is a podcast that can help writers find the best literary agent for their business career and learn more about the writing craft, and Fiction Writing Made Easy is an amazing podcast that teaches writing tips with short, super applicable lessons.

Thanks in advance for your support!

Abigail K. Perry is the host of the podcast Lit Match and a certified developmental editor who specializes in Upmarket/Commercial fiction, Women’s Fiction, Historical Fiction, MG/YA fiction, and YA fantasy. Abigail holds a B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and a Masters in Secondary Education from Endicott College. Abigail worked as an editorial intern and the Agency Relations Assistant for P.S. Literary Agency, is fluent in book and movie quotes, and loves a long walk with good company, which includes audiobooks and two- and four-legged loved ones and buddies.  

You can reach her on her podcast or follow her on Twitter or Instagram.

The post First Chapters that Stand Out: Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone appeared first on DIY MFA.

Sometimes in an attempt to seduce a literary agent, writers spend so much time mulling over their first chapter that they forget about the rest of the book. If you’ve ever heard the saying “your first chapter sells your book,” it’s true. Literary agents and readers won’t stick with a book unless the author tells an exceptional story—which means you must write and polish an amazing batch of first pages.

It also means that you need to satisfy those expectations throughout the entire book.  

Writing a book is tough! However, if you can learn how to write a notable first chapter, you can learn how to become a great writer. Period. 

The qualifications for a captivating first chapter carry over into every unit of the story. So let’s learn what grips a reader and keeps them reading. 

In this article, I’ll teach you seven key questions from author and literary agent Paula Munier’s insightful book on writing the beginning of your book, The Writer’s Guide to Beginnings. 

Additionally, I’ll provide an example of a strong first chapter and how it answers these questions. The book I’m going to use today is Take It Back by Kia Abdullah. 

Write a Great First Chapter, Then Write a Great Book

As a developmental editor, I’m always on the hunt for stories that grab my attention from the first pages of a book and keep my attention until the end. I even create bonus episodes on my podcast (Lit Match) to analyze said notable first chapters. 

One of the recent books I read, loved, and featured was Kia Abdullah’s Take It Back. Kia is a remarkable storyteller and kept me engaged (and guessing!) from page one. Her dark and complex story immediately grabbed my attention and is an exceptional example of storytelling from page one to the end.  

Let’s look at how Take It Back answers and measures up to the seven key questions Paula Munier urges writers to consider when writing and editing their first chapters. 

A kind warning: this book contains explicit language and sensitive material regarding sex, violence, and rape. 

7 Key Questions to Analyze a First Chapter (and How Take It Back Answers Them)

While plot and structure and character are vital ingredients in every first chapter, they’re not the only elements a writer needs to master.

When I look at a first chapter, I like to pull from the best resource I’ve found on writing beginnings: The Writer’s Guide to Beginnings by author and literary agent Paula Munier. This book is chock full of actionable and direct advice on writing the beginning of your book—and it’s also filled with examples. I recommend it to any writer struggling to write the beginning of their book, or really any of it.

These questions are:

1. What kind of story is it?
2. What is the story really about?
3. Who is telling the story?
4. Which character should they care about most?
5. Where and when does the story take place?
6. How should they feel about what’s happening?
7. Why should they care what happens next?

If you’re familiar with Paula’s book, you probably understand these questions. If you’re not familiar, don’t worry, I’m going to explain each briefly before analyzing how Take It Back’s first chapter answers each question. 

GENRE: WHAT KIND OF STORY IS THIS?

Writers need to know the genre they’re writing—and the beginnings of their manuscript should read like that genre. Paula even indicates that the first words should “reinforce the genre identity set by the title, or you’ll lose the reader—and the sale.”

When a title indicates one genre and the pages counter this expectation, you’ll throw the reader off. This could lead to a loss in an agent’s request for more pages, a sale, and a reader. 

Of course, I’m sure there are the rare outliers who break the rules—but the reality of the publishing business is that if a story doesn’t fit neatly into a known category, the agent and author will have difficulty selling it. The publisher won’t know how to market it. And booksellers won’t know where to shelve it in their store.

Why? Because a story’s target readers are linked to genre, and if the genre isn’t clear, then how do those trying to sell and market the book know who to market it to?

Note: This is where comparable titles can play a huge role in confirming your genre. If you’re having trouble categorizing the genre of your story, I recommend you visit a bookstore. Look for comparable titles to your story and read the first pages. What does the genre read like? Do you give the same impression in your first pages?

If not, don’t panic. Do take some time to edit them.  

Take It Back is a legal thriller, and readers understand this from the first pages, which are riddled with psychological tension about a lawyer who distances herself from a romantic partner, is undergoing a midlife crisis, and who calls herself a cliche. The story is also full of dark suspense, and the first chapter ends with a traumatic confession of a victim who was raped. 

The central protagonist (the lawyer) of the story, Zara, believes this victim (named Jodie Wolfe) and agrees to defend her despite how difficult she knows this case will be.  

PLOT: WHAT IS THE STORY REALLY ABOUT?

Paula shares that she can’t sell a story if she can’t pitch it in fifty words or less.  

This means that from the very beginning, the story needs to clearly define the protagonist, their story goal, and the conflicts they’re up against. Your story needs to indicate the big hook that makes this story worth a reader’s time. 

Here’s my go at Take It Back in thirty-nine words: 

Take It Back is a legal thriller that collides sex, race, and social justice, about a once high-profile lawyer who defends a teenager with facial deformities after she claims that four boys with proven alibis and from hard-working immigrant families raped her.    

Want to take plot and structure specifically for your first chapter a little further? To assess how the structure of a scene holds up in a story, I like to use the five commandments from Story Grid. You can read more about how I use the Story Grid scene analysis template in more articles on DIY MFA, or listen to how Take It Back’s main scene in the first chapter uses the five commandments on my podcast. 

POV: WHO IS TELLING THE STORY? 

If you want to write a book that hooks a literary agent and reader with the first chapter in a book, you need to have a clearly established POV (point of view) character. The POV character is often the protagonist, and readers need to know right away who is telling the story and the limitations of that point of view choice. 

There are three main types of POV: first person, third person limited, third person omniscient. There are other options like second person, too, but these are less common. 

Writers with a strong, established voice often choose first person. Regardless of what POV you choose, a strong voice is necessary for great books, and it’s not uncommon for an agent or editor to pass on a story that lacks a defining voice, or embrace one that is exceptional. 

Books may also include multiple POVs, and in these cases the POV will shift either in scenes or chapters. Writers should avoid head-hopping within a scene unless they’re writing omnisciently (and really, this is a narrator outside the characters, so it’s not exactly head-hopping). 

Regardless of an author’s choice, they should make the POV clear in the first chapter. This will set up expectations for the voice and POV for the rest of the book.

Take It Back is written in third person omniscient, even though it stays close to Zara, Jodie, and Amir for a large portion of the book.

From the first pages, readers can see that the narrator has an opinion and defined voice as they reveal the interaction between Zara and Luka. For instance lines like, “She’d probably break his heart, but what did he expect screwing a Muslim girl?” don’t sound exactly like Zara. 

Additionally, even though the story sticks close to Zara and her feelings and observations, there are subtle shifts like, “he blinked and tried to pinpoint the exact moment he lost her” that shift POV, taking an omniscient viewpoint.

Third person omniscient is a smart choice for this novel since it allows Kia Abdullah, the author, to develop an authorial voice. At the same time, it allows Kia to move between multiple major characters without giving too much away. 

Throughout the book, this choice allows Kia to explore different parts of the trial that might not be apparent to every character—which keeps the reader guessing: Who is telling the truth—Jodie or the boys? 

The reader won’t learn this answer until the last pages of the book.        

CHARACTER: WHICH CHARACTER SHOULD WE CARE ABOUT THE MOST?

Plot is indispensable. Setting is important. But no story works without a memorable, sympathetic character—and all timeless stories will have a character that readers care deeply about. The reason readers keep reading a story is because they want to see if the protagonist makes it—and because of this, they follow the protagonist until the end. 

A chapter that hooks a reader, agent, and editor will make it clear why they should care about the protagonist from the first chapter. They should see how the protagonist is:

1. Sympathetic
2. Placed in a situation that demands a reader’s attention, and
3. Forced to make tough decisions that come with stakes (see the five commandments for more on the crisis question) 

Take It Back opens with an intimate scene between Zara and Luka, establishing Zara as the central protagonist. 

The reader is concerned for her. Zara is ruthlessly hard on herself, calling herself a “f—g cliche” who has lost her dreams of changing the world and becoming extraordinary.

The first chapter then takes us deeper into Zara’s story: She abruptly gave up her high profile career as a lawyer to practice law at a sexual assault center. Her friend even indicates that Zara is having a midlife crisis.

Finally, when Zara meets Jodie Wolfe, she believes Jodie and agrees to defend her—a difficult and dangerous choice that comes with great risks but also the hope of gaining justice for Jodie.

SETTING: WHERE AND WHEN DOES THE STORY TAKE PLACE?

Paula encourages writers to think of their first pages as the establishing shot in a film. Readers are far more likely to enjoy and understand a story—and therefore care about it—if they understand the story’s setting, the time, and the place from the beginning. 

A setting also establishes tone, which is important for your story’s genre. 

When a writer chooses a setting and grounds a reader in the setting, they should consider what makes a setting unique. Settings should do more than establish a place “just because,” they should play a role in shaping your story and plot. This way, whether or not a reader has experienced a setting, readers will see and care about why the setting impacts the plot and characters. 

Take It Back is set in East London. The first chapters also depict Zara’s place of employment, Artemis House on Whitechapel Road. The building is described as “cramped but comfortable,” and the “trust-fund kids in the modern block round the corner were long scared off by the social housing quota.” 

East London is further described as multicultural and insular—a description that naturally raises the stakes for characters like Zara, a Muslim lawyer, Jodie Wolfe, a teenager with facial deformities, and the four Muslim boys Jodie accuses of rape. 

Each of these characters and their greater communities will face a particularly difficult rape case as the case provokes some ugly and dangerous truths about people and society.   

CORE EMOTION: HOW SHOULD THEY FEEL ABOUT WHAT’S HAPPENING?

At the heart of stories, there is emotion—readers want to feel something when they read. They want to experience a cathartic ending and enjoy the range of emotions that a story makes them feel while reading it. 

Paula says that “the sooner you can evoke emotion in your readers, the sooner you draw them into your story.” 

The first pages of a book need to make the reader feel something: a driving emotion that will carry over and build throughout the book. What is the emotion the writer wants to evoke in a book, and how does the story and its first pages successfully do this? 

As a reader of Take It Back, I’m intrigued about Zara and her personal life: her belief that she’s a cliche and her loss of hope, her midlife crisis, her distancing herself from people, and her abrupt decision to change jobs.  

Then throw in Jodie and the boys involved in the rape case. On its own, rape is a heavy topic and horrific. It also has this he said/she said quality to it. Plus, there’s the added factor of Jodie’s physical deformity and that the boys are Muslim. Because of this, I worry that there will be growing issues tied to race and physical differences.

For instance, jurors might not believe Jodie because of her facial deformities and the fact that the people closest to her don’t believe her. Additionally, because the boys are Muslim, there’s potential for Islamaphobia to grow, and the case could endanger the lives and well-being of the boys individually. Finally, there’s the added factor that the Muslim community will reject Zara, if they feel like she’s betraying her own race and culture.  

As a reader, I’m worried for all the characters involved—and, like Zara, I also want justice for the wronged party. But who is that? 

Who is lying, and who is telling the truth? 

STAKES: WHY SHOULD THEY CARE WHAT HAPPENS NEXT? 

Paula mentions how this question deals with three factors: (1) the action happening in the story’s opening, (2) the premise of the story, and (3) the big idea of the story itself. 

Sometimes all three factors are the same thing, sometimes they are different things. Here’s what each entails:

1. The action happens as the story opens. The first pages and first chapter shouldn’t be filled with backstory or obsessive telling. Something interesting needs to happen (an inciting incident and turning point)—and that something should force the character to make a tough decision (a crisis question). There needs to be narrative thrust that makes a reader want to keep reading, meaning that some sort of action needs to happen that advances the plot. 
2. The premise of the story. The premise is the starting point of the story, and it grounds the big ideas for what’s to come. The premise also highlights what’s compelling and where the story will go. 
3. The big idea of the story. This is a story’s hook and what grabs an agent and sells a story, both to agents and to readers. The bigger the idea, the better your chance at selling your story, and the more likely you’ll be able to withstand the length of a novel. 

If you want readers to care about what happens next, look at your story opening. Is something happening in the first scene and chapter that forces a protagonist to make a crisis decision? How does this action and decision relate to the premise of the story and the big idea that makes your story stand out? 

Take It Back opens with tension between Zara and Luka, but the biggest action and decision that happens in the first chapter is when Jodie comes to Zara’s office. 

The stakes are high professionally, psychologically, and, if Zara takes Jodie’s case to court, there’s the potential for physical stakes. And all of these stakes grow with the prosecution and evidence, especially as we start to question who is telling the truth and who is lying. 

In the first chapter, Zara chooses to believe Jodie. That’s her decision, which is an action tied to the premise. It also clasps to the big idea, which is different from other court cases on the market because of the complications reguarding sex, disabilities, and race.

Master a First Chapter, Master a Book 

Whether you’re writing a legal thriller like Take It Back or another genre, the first chapter will make or break a book. They impact an agent’s decision to request more of a manuscript, and they are grounding blocks in a story’s potential and an author’s storytelling skills and writing talent.  

But writers shouldn’t stop with their first chapter. Once a first chapter establishes expectations for a story and the quality of writing and storytelling, they should carry these until the last page of their book. 

When a writer learns how to write a great first chapter, they learn how to become a better storyteller. Using writing tools and methodologies like Paula Munier’s first chapter questions and the five commandments I use to edit a scene’s structure are great ways to assess how your first chapter measures up—and if it stands a chance at hooking your reader.  

Personally, I loved Take It Back and think that Kia Abdullah is a remarkable storyteller and writer. If you write or enjoy legal thrillers or great examples of talented writing, follow her and read her book.  

And if you enjoyed this article and would like to learn more about how I use these questions to analyze first chapters, check out my podcast, Lit Match.

Happy writing!first chapter

Tell us in the comments: How does your first chapter measure up?

Abigail K. Perry is the host of the podcast Lit Match and a certified developmental editor who specializes in Upmarket/Commercial fiction, Women’s Fiction, Historical Fiction, MG/YA fiction, and YA fantasy. Abigail holds a B.S. in TV, Radio, and Film from Syracuse University and a Masters in Secondary Education from Endicott College. Abigail worked as an editorial intern and the Agency Relations Assistant for P.S. Literary Agency, is fluent in book and movie quotes, and loves a long walk with good company, which includes audiobooks and two- and four-legged loved ones and buddies.  You can reach her on her podcast or follow her on Twitter or Instagram

The post How to Start a Book: Seven Questions to Ask about Your First Chapter appeared first on DIY MFA.

Comparable titles (also known as comps) can be extremely helpful when writing and pitching your book to a literary agent or editor. 

They are also a huge way to ensure your book is marketed in the right place on Amazon or in the bookstore—and better yet, they’re good practice to learn how to read with a purpose. 

Finding bad comps for your books is worse than no comps. 

To avoid this, I’d like to share five must-knows to picking your comps, as well as a better idea about what makes a comp and how to use it in a pitch.  

Why Comparable Titles Are Important (But Not Mandatory) 

When I worked as an editorial intern at P.S. Literary Agency, finding comps was an important task. Comps could help the agent I reported to decide if a book was worth representing. It could also strengthen a pitch for a client’s new book to an editor.

Comparable titles, or books/stories that have certain similarities to another story, can be extremely useful when convincing an editor or agent that a story is worth investing in. It hints at certain story preferences and tastes, and identifies with what has worked in the market before. 

Plus, it attracts an ideal readership! 

In the first months of my role, finding comps was a challenging task. 

While businesses like Amazon make the research easier (Amazon, in fact, first gained success because of their brilliant move to recommend additional books a customer would like after purchasing a title), there are certain details I needed to keep in mind in order to find a good comp. 

I mentioned above that finding bad comps is worse than no comps. And the agent I worked for told me multiple times that comps weren’t mandatory in a query letter, although when good ones came along, they helped. 

You see, there’s a trick to finding good comps—if you know what good means.

I’d like to clarify this with five must-knows covered in this post.  

Must-Knows When Picking Your Book’s Comparable Titles

There’s a lot of great places to look for comps for your manuscript. 

Libraries are the underdogs of all story archives, and I’m always a huge advocate for local bookstores, especially since booksellers really know their titles, and will have loads of recommendations when you describe what you’re looking for in a book.

Keep in mind, comparable titles aren’t exactly like the book you’re writing (if it was, then why are you writing a book that’s already been done?), but they are similar (and different). 

For instance, you might be looking to make a connection with your story that an agent mentions they like on their #MSWL (manuscript wish list). 

Take for example a story that could be described as smart fiction that involves a startup business in today’s society. A good comp for this might be Doree Shafrir’s Startup: A Novel. 

Or maybe you’re looking for a book that takes a hard look at Islamophobia in American for young adults. Samira Ahmed’s Love, Hate, and Other Filters would be a fantastic fit. 

How about nonfiction? Perhaps you want a comparable title that explores female entrepreneurs and the gender gap in business. I’d highly recommend Sophia Amoruso’s #Girlboss, which I suggested as a comp for Susanne Althoff’s amazing book Launching While Female.  

All of these examples are good picks for the scenarios paired with them, but pulling these titless out at libraries, bookstores, Amazon, or Goodreads might seem overwhelming. At first. 

To ensure you find a good title for your story’s comps, turn to one of the four story providers above, and then use these five must-knows to make sure they’ll work. 

Note: While I linked to Amazon above, because Amazon is easiest for research, I deeply encourage you to consider buying local, if it’s in your means. I don’t always buy local, but if I can I do because bookstores and booksellers are awesome, and seriously worth talking to about stories.

I also thought you might enjoy this resource, which I’m passing along from Oprah’s magazine (I first saw it on Jodi Picoult’s social media), as it can help you locate and support black-owned bookstores: FIND THAT RESOURCE HERE. 

Recently Published

Agents and editors need comps that have been recently published, or published within the last three (maybe five) years. 

Why? 

Because they need to know that your book will sell in today’s market, and if there’s a good comp that has done this, they will probably have more success when using it in their pitch to an editor or publisher. 

However, there is an exception here. If you have two comps and one is older, or a TV show or movie, and the other is more recently published, it will work. 

Just make sure at least one of the comps you pitch has been published in that last one to five year mark. 

Published by the Big Five

This one is important, and what tripped me up most in my earlier months as an editorial intern. 

The Big Five are considered the largest five publishers in the publishing industry, and the agent I worked most closely with emphasized the importance of pitching comps published by the Big Five when pitching a debut author’s book. 

To check if your comp is from a Big Five publisher—and not a small publisher or indie publisher (or self published)—Jane Friedman created this phenomenal infographic. 

Another good place to cross your t’s is from almossawi.com. It’s amazing. Bookmark this page in your browser. Or print it out and pin it to your wall: Big Five Infographic. 

Performed Well in Sales

A good comp isn’t good unless it’s performed well in sales. Remember, comps are used to prove to an editor or publisher (or agent) that your book has what it takes to attract and please readers. Sales are evidence of this.

Of course, you’re probably not going to find a spreadsheet of a title’s finances online.

But you can discover if a book has done well by turning to best-seller lists, awards, options, and news about the book’s performance. 

Not Ubiquitous 

Another important must-know that you might not think about! 

This is also the number one reason why nobody should use a book like Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone (or any Harry Potters) as a comp. 

Just don’t do it. 

Of course everyone wants to be as successful as J.K. Rowling’s series, but Harry Potter has really become something more than a book. It’s a brand. 

And when books are ubiquitous, they don’t work well to pitch as a comp because there’s really no guarantee that any new title will reach that level of success.

Although we can hope! 

(Some other example not to use, although great masterworks for you to read and analyze: Eat, Pray, Love, Gone Girl, The Lord of the Rings, The Chronicles of Narnia—I’m sure there are others, but these for sure, in addition to the fact that they’re not recently published (see must-know number one).)

Clear Aspect on Back Cover That is Similar to Your Story 

Last on the list is the number one detail you should include in your query letter when pitching to an agent. 

What do I mean by a clear aspect on the back cover that is similar to your book? This is the similarity that makes your book the same but different to your comp. 

I mentioned a few of these examples with the books aforementioned: Startup, Love, Hate, and Other FIlters, and #Girlboss. 

Where (and How) to Use Your Comparable Titles

Once you do find a good comparable title for your story, it’s important to understand where and how to use them. 

If your heart is set on the traditional publishing route, the perfect place to pitch one or two of your comps is in the first paragraph of your query letter. 

Here, look for what the literary agent your querying is interested in representing (research their manuscript wish list or interviews), and then identify the aspect (must-know number five) that they mention.  

Not only will your comps work as a fantastic way to personally connect with the agent you hope will represent you and your work, but it shows you understand the market, your story, and how to research. 

All major pluses in future clients! 

If you’re not hoping to traditionally publish, comparable titles are still great ways to find your ideal readers and write your back cover. 

We all have select tastes when it comes to stories, and knowing how to find comps will help you find your groups. 

Why Good Comps Will Help You Read With a Purpose

As a fellow word nerd, you know that DIY MFA is all about reading with a purpose. And for good reason! 

If you can’t read with a purpose, you won’t become a better writer. Writers have to read in order to strengthen their craft, voice, understanding of story structure, and style. 

Writers also need to understand why a story works—or as I like to define this, advances the plot and develops characters with meaning. In addition to providing exceptional, unique settings, prose, and messages.

When you find a comparable title that works for your book, you should read it. Then, using your writing craft knowledge, start to decipher what makes your story the same but different. 

Hopefully you’ll pick up a few tricks to make your writing better along the way—without repeating the exact same ideas of other authors, of course. 

If you want to become a better writer, learn how to read like one. 

Do this by finding comparable titles that work. 

Thank You to DIY MFA, and a Bittersweet Farewell (for Now!)

For the past three and a half years I’ve had the great privilege to write as a columnist for DIY MFA. 

I first met and was inspired by Gabriela Pereira in 2015 at a Writer’s Digest Conference in New York City, connecting after a seminar she gave on characters. 

Enlightened, I started to follow her career, and later came across an opportunity to pitch a column for the reading portion of DIY MFA’s pillars, which became my Let’s Talk Books series.

Because of DIY MFA, I have grown as a writer, reader, educator, and advocator for stories in immeasurable ways. 

I have cherished my time with you fellow word nerds and the DIY MFA team, and am sad to write this farewell post (for now!), but am excited to focus on my burgeoning editing and storytelling career and growing family. 

As an editor and writer myself, I cannot encourage you enough to support the DIY MFA team. They are fun. They are smart. And they are supportive. (Not to mention nerdy!) 

I hope that you have benefited from this final, farewell post—and hopefully all the posts I contributed over the years.

I wish you well, and happy, purposeful reading. 

Abigail K. Perry is a Certified Story Grid Editor with professional teaching, literary agency, and film production experience. In addition to writing masterwork guides that help people learn how to write, read, and edit like a writer, she works as a freelance developmental editor/book coach and diagnostic editor. Abigail also teaches Genre-Focused writing workshops for the genres she specializes in, which include Women’s Fiction, YA Fantasy, Upmarket Fiction, Historical Fiction, and Scripts. Visit Abigail’s website if you’re a writer looking for an editor who will help you grow as storyteller, and who has experience in differentiated instruction, traditional publishing, and film.

The post Must-Knows When Picking Comparable Titles appeared first on DIY MFA.

Whether or not published in a book or jotted down in a first draft, scenes that feel flat often lack a source of plot advancement or character development. Often the reason for this is because they lack one or more of the five commandments–important beats driving a scene, which I review in depth in my Story Grid Scene Analysis article here. 

As a writer hoping to learn how to read with a purpose, mastering the five commandments when doing scene analysis is a great start. The reason for this is because when the five commandments are applied, the scene contains a moment that forces a protagonist or leading character into a Crisis Decision, and this decision is made in response to the obstacle (that is an Action or Revelation) preventing them from achieving their present goal.

And when this decision is made, the characters (and the forward moving plot) are changed on an internal and external scale.  

For example, in Disney’s Beauty and the Beast’s famous Climax (when Beast is finally transformed back into the body of a human), multiple characters are changed on an external and internal spectrum. It’s important that both are achieved, and the concentration on both is what makes the scene extra memorable.

Ultimately, a scene will likely direct a stronger focus on a character’s internal or external shift. When doing a scene analysis, the two types of change should be viewed in how they support one another instead of as two separate details. 

Why Scenes Need an External and Internal Change 

There are two types of change in a character from the beginning of the scene to the end: an external change and an internal change. 

An external change is a change in a character’s physical state of being. This focuses on the character’s position tied to their mortality and position–something that, looking at this with its most extreme perspective, determines a character’s relation to life and death. 

An internal change relates to a character’s internal thoughts according to their external surroundings. From this angle, we’re looking at how a character is mentally/psychologically doing. How are they feeling, and how is that feeling altered from the beginning of the scene to the end? 

When doing scene analysis, writers and readers should keep in mind how important it is that a character or characters undergo both an internal and external shift in each scene (even if the external shift or internal shift takes precedence depending on the surrounding factors supporting the scene). When both an internal and external change is experienced, we see the plot move forward (externally) and the character(s) developed (internally). 

And in some cases, the external shift and the internal shift might belong to different characters in the same scene. Super cool! 

Let’s turn back to Beauty and the Beast to see this as an example. 

The Five Commandments in The Transformation Scene

Before looking at how Belle and Beast, the protagonists, internally and externally change in the Climax of Beauty and the Beast, consider how the five commandments work in this scene:

Inciting Incident: Causal. (In Medias Res) In the scene before this one, Gaston stabbed Beast. Although Gaston is dead by the beginning of the transformation scene, the knife stabbed in Beast’s back acts as a causal disturbance to Beast’s physical state and Belle’s internal one. Belle finds Beast dying on the balcony. 

Turning Point: Action. Beasts dies (this throws Belle into a Crisis Decision). (You could also argue this is when Beast transforms into a man.) 

Crisis: Best Bad Choice. Belle can leave Beast’s body behind or declare her love for him as she mourns. (You could also argue that her Crisis is after Beast transforms, and she debates whether or not to believe Beast is who he says he is.) 

Climax: Belle declares her love for Beast (this shows her acting on her Crisis Decision) before the last rose petal falls. Beast is transformed back into a man and Belle recognizes him for him. They kiss and the enchantment falls away from the castle and servants. Beast and Belle celebrate with everyone. 

Resolution: Belle and Beast (and the castle servants) are united as humans. They live happily ever after.   

Notice how there are a couple of ways that you can do scene analysis, based on how some different options determine the Turning Point and Crisis Decision in this scene. Regardless of what option you prefer, each supports an internal/external shift in Belle and an external/internal shift in Beast; thus, there’s a victory for love, life, and a worldview change in the scene and for the characters as a whole.

To understand this a bit more, read on to see how the internal shift in Belle unfolds because of her Turning Point and Crisis Decision, and how Belle’s decision also creates an external shift in her state of being–and Beast. 

The Internal Change in Belle 

At the beginning of this scene, Belle is devastated. She feels responsible for the raid on the castle (she was the one who showed the townspeople there was a beast), and Beast is dying because of Gaston. She holds Beast in her arms, and he smiles at her.  He’s surprised and pleased that she has returned to him, even if he is only getting to see her one last time. Belle holds out, hoping that Beast will survive until he dies.

Looking back at the five commandments, this is when an Action (Beast’s death) throws Belle into a Crisis Decision–she can leave or stay with him. Belle stays and whispers that she loves Beast, despite knowing that her words fall short because he’s not alive to hear them.

But there’s hope! Since Belle pronounces her love for Beast before the last rose petal falls, the enchantment is lifted. Beast not only comes back to life but is turned back into a  man. What a Climax!

This is when Belle looks at Beast and determines that he is the man she loves. They kiss, which further lifts the curse that traps the castle and the servants. 

Finally, Belle and Beast–deeply in love–find their happily ever after. Belle shifts from an internal state of devastation to joy and euphoria and on an external scale of alone to united with the man she loves, although I think Belle’s internal shift is the louder change in this scene, compared to Beast, whose external shift is greater.

The External Change in Beast 

Following the same commandments, Beast moves on the external scale from severely injured/death to life. He also experiences an internal shift from hopeless to victorious since Belle’s love for him restores his external state of being as 1) the physical form of a cursed beast, and 2) dead. 

While both Belle and Beast experience internal and external shifts, I’d credit the focus of this scene on Belle’s internal shift because Beast’s changes are a direct result of her decision and actions, instead of the other way around. Together, you could also argue that the greatest change in this scene is based on how Belle and Beast move from love to intimacy–they’ve gained the highest level of romance because of the sacrifices they’ve made for one another, and their worldview shifts. 

The Big Takeaway

While you can debate whether or not the internal shift in a character or external shift in a character’s state of being is more important in a scene, that same character must be forced into a Crisis Decision by an obstacle in order to experience either. Also, whether or not you think the internal or external shift is more important is secondary to the importance of how both exist because of the other. 

Think of internal and external changes in a character more as a cause-and-effect rather than two separate entities existing in the same moment. They work together to illustrate an advancement in plot and development of character, and because they do, the scene gains great meaning.    

Now It’s Your Turn

Now that we’ve looked at how internal and external shifts work for multiple characters in the Climax of Beauty and the Beast, see if you can identify an internal and external shift in one or more characters for another scene in the movie. Pull out the five commandments in your scene choice and identify how the Turning Point and Crisis Decision determine the internal and external changes in a character. Once you’re done, share your analysis in the comments section so we can all practice how to read with a purpose!

P.S. I’d love to hear more about your scene analysis from another Disney classic (or book favorite). Visit my website at www.abigailkperry.com to connect with me and share your thoughts. I can’t wait to hear from you!   ]

Abigail K. Perry is a Certified Story Grid Editor with professional teaching, literary agency, and film production experience. In addition to writing masterwork guides that help people learn how to write, read, and edit like a writer, she works as a freelance developmental editor/book coach and diagnostic editor, and is a monthly columnist for DIY MFA. Abigail also teaches Genre-Focused writing workshops for the genres she specializes in, which include Women’s Fiction, YA Fantasy, Upmarket Fiction, Historical Fiction, and Scripts. As a podcaster, she’s a passionate advocate for the butterfly effect stories have on the individual and world, which she shares with listeners on her podcast, STORY EFFECT. Visit Abigail’s website if you’re a writer looking for an editor who will help you grow as storyteller, and who has experience in differentiated instruction, traditional publishing, and film.

The post Scene Analysis: The Importance of External and Internal Value Shifts in Characters appeared first on DIY MFA.

Today, I wanted to address the four questions used in my previous articles, which some writers have shared can feel esoteric. After discussing this with a group of close Story Grid editor friends, we took a crack at simplifying some of the diction used to phrase these questions. I’ve also changed the fourth question in the group to align with some changes Story Grid has made in the past months. 

Here are the major changes to the questions you should consider when reading and analyzing a scene, thus determining if it is a scene that works, or advances a plot and/or develops a character:

1.  What are the characters literally doing? This question is the same question used in my previous articles. Although standard, it’s important for readers and writers to understand what the characters are literally doing so we can see how they contrast with the obstacles creating conflict in the scene. And almost all–if not all–scenes should have conflict! 

2.  What is the character’s scene goal and why are they pursuing it? This question simplifies the essential action in a scene—i.e. a character’s want or intention. Knowing what a character wants in a scene sets up a reader’s expectations for how that character advances the plot in a specific moment. Also, knowing that a character wants something and observing how they pursue it makes the scene more purposeful—and interesting—because we understand what’s at stake when conflicts get in his or her way. 

3. What life value shift has changed for one or more characters in the scene? Which one of those value changes is most important and should be recorded on the STORY GRID SPREADSHEET? This question pools the major elements determining a scene’s purpose. By identifying the life value in a scene and how it changes from beginning to end, we see what has advanced the plot and/or developed the character on an internal and/or external level. All scenes must change in order to meaningfully contribute to the plot and characters. Scenes that don’t move fall dull and insignificant. So, understanding how a scene changes on the external and/or internal platform will clarify if the scene actually advances the plot, and it illustrates if there has been a polarity shift from beginning to end—i.e. positive to negative, negative to positive, positive to double positive, etc.

4.  What Story Event sums up the scene’s literal and essential actions and the value change—i.e. what is a one-sentence synopsis for this scene that we should record on the STORY GRID SPREADSHEET? This is a new and important question! As mentioned in how to analyze a scene (read on to understand this in depth), readers should be able to identify the STORY EVENT for a scene, or an active change of life value for one or more characters as a result of conflict (one character’s desires clash with another’s). Essentially, question four identifies what a character is doing and why, and how certain obstacles—or conflicts—are preventing him/her from pursuing their want with ease. 

Now that we’ve simplified and clarified the four questions used to analyze a scene—and read with a purpose! —let’s explore how we can analyze the opening chapter/scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows.  

SUMMARY OF THE SCENE  

In the dark of night, two Death Eaters, Snape and Yaxley, appear in a moonlit lane. They address one another and then proceed to Malfoy Manor, where Voldemort currently resides. Immediately, Voldemort directs Snape to sit next to him on his right, and points Yaxley next to a chair beside another Death Eater, Dolohov. The meeting adjourns with Voldemort question Snape’s latest insight. Snape shares the news that Harry Potter will be moved from Privet Drive on “Saturday…at nightfall.” Voldemort is pleased, but shifts his attention when Yaxley says that he had heard a different plan (from Dwalish, an Auror). Snape smiles and assures that this is a false trail. Snape goes on to counter Yaxley’s resistance by confirming that the Order thinks the Ministry is under Voldemort’s control, and that the Auror Office will not oversee Harry Potter’s protection.   

Although nearly under the Dark Lord’s control, the Ministry is not yet fully overrun, despite Yaxley’s success at placing the Imperius Curse on Pius Thicknesse, Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. So, Voldemort returns the conversation to their plan to attack Harry Potter. Voldemort likes that the Ministry won’t be able to track Harry, since it will leave Harry out in the open and available for him to attack. Voldemort admits that too many mistakes have been made when it comes to Harry Potter, and even confesses that many have been his own. Voldemort’s company falls silent at this indication, and waits for instructions on how Voldemort plans to kill Harry Potter. Voldemort says he must do this himself.

To do this, Voldemort requires another wizard’s wand. He chooses Lucius Malfoy’s wand, despite Lucius’ extreme discomfort with this. After some cruel banter intended to insult the Malfoy family—specifically regarding Tonks’ recent marriage to Lupin—Voldemort admits that many of the oldest bloodlines become diseased as time passed. In the final moments of the meeting, Voldemort (using Lucius’ wand), summons the floating—and now conscious—body of Charity Burbage, a professor of Muggle Studies at Hogwarts. Using her as an example of what’s to come, Voldemort silences and then murders Professor Burbage, ignoring (like Snape) her direct pleas to Snape to save her. Once dead, Voldemort feeds Charity’s corpse to his snake, Nagini.   

ANALYZING THE SCENE

A STORY EVENT is an active change of life value for one or more characters as a result of conflict (one character’s desires clash with another’s).

A WORKING SCENE contains at least one Story Event.

To determine a Scene’s Story Event, answer these four questions:

1.  What are the characters in the scene literally doing? 

Voldemort and his Death Eaters attend a meeting. 

2.  What is the character’s scene goal and why are they pursuing it? 

Voldemort wants to confirm the best plan of attack on Harry Potter—i.e. he wants to kill Harry himself. On a similar scale, Voldemort also wants a new wand to attack Harry since his wand has a connection with Harry’s wand. 

3.  What life value shift has changed for one or more characters in the scene? Which one of those value changes is most important and should be recorded on the STORY GRID SPREADSHEET? 

Voldemort begins his meeting with the Death Eaters unaware of the current plans for transporting Harry Potter—information he wants desperately in order to plan his attack. Despite some doubts, Snape convinces Voldemort that Harry is being moved on Saturday by a means the Ministry of Magic cannot track, and Voldemort decides that he needs to be the one to kill Harry himself. Voldemort seizes Lucius Malfoy’s wand and uses it to kill Professor Charity Burbage.

Life Values:

• Voldemort: Unaware to Informed 
• Lucius: Unnoticed to Humiliated  
• Professor Burbage: Life to Death  

Life Value for the Spreadsheet (follows Voldemort): Unaware to Informed 

4.  What is the Story Event that sums up the scene’s literal and essential actions and the value change—i.e. what is a one-sentence synopsis for this scene that we should record on the STORY GRID SPREADSHEET? 

Voldemort holds a meeting with his Death Eaters to plan an attack on Harry Potter after Harry leaves Privet Drive, to which there are a couple of possibilities. 

HOW THE SCENE ABIDES THE FIVE COMMANDMENTS OF STORYTELLING

• Inciting Incident: Causal. Snape and Yaxley arrive at the meeting.  
• Turning Point: Revelation. Snape confirms that Harry will be transported in a way that is not regulated by the Ministry of Magic. 
• Crisis: Best Bad Choice. Voldemort—admitting that he’s made mistakes with Harry in the past—debates how Harry Potter should be killed. He can either attack and attempt to kill Harry on his own at the risk of failure, or he can leave someone else to kill Harry—which he, with new knowledge, does not believe will succeed.    
• Climax: Voldemort confirms that he must be the one to kill Harry Potter and demands that Lucius Malfoy give him his wand. Though obviously anxious, Lucius gives Voldemort his wand, which Voldemort uses to kill Professor Burbage in front of the company.   
• Resolution: Nagini feeds on Professor Burbage’s corpse and Voldemort and his Death Eaters prepare for their attack on Saturday.  

Final Thoughts

The world has grown dark by the opening of Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, for both the muggle and wizarding world. Although written as its own chapter, the opening of book seven in the series works very much like the opening of books one and six—as a mini-prologue before diving into the third-person limited perspective we will follow for the remainder of the story. This is a clever, stylistic choice on Rowling’s part, as it allows us to sense immediate tension and danger for Harry even before we see him—and especially for when the Order attempts to transport him to The Burrow on broomsticks. We know Snape got the plan right, so we’re given a set up that will be quickly paid off. 

Thus, as readers, we’re excited to read what happens to Harry Potter when he leaves Privet Drive, and understand the stakes for when this happens: life and death. Although the opening scene in Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows works as a subtle prologue that focuses on Voldemort and his pursuits and wants instead of Harry, who is the main POV for the story, the Story Event and other scene essentials in this scene successfully build tension in a way that advances the plot, develops characters, and makes readers nervous for Harry and his friends! 

If you’d like to learn more about how to analyze, read, and write a scene with purpose, check out my other articles using the Story Grid Scene Analysis Template on DIY MFA, or visit my website at www.abigailkperry.com. Thanks for joining me for this article today, and happy, mindful reading!  

Abigail K. Perry is a Certified Story Grid Editor with professional teaching, literary agency, and film production experience. In addition to writing masterwork guides that help people learn how to write, read, and edit like a writer, she works as a freelance developmental editor/book coach and diagnostic editor, and is a monthly columnist for DIY MFA. Abigail also teaches Genre-Focused writing workshops for the genres she specializes in, which include Women’s Fiction, YA Fantasy, Upmarket Fiction, Historical Fiction, and Scripts. As a podcaster, she’s a passionate advocate for the butterfly effect stories have on the individual and world, which she shares with listeners on her podcast, STORY EFFECT. Visit Abigail’s website if you’re a writer looking for an editor who will help you grow as storyteller, and who has experience in differentiated instruction, traditional publishing, and film.

The post Story Grid Scene Analysis: Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows appeared first on DIY MFA.

However, to this day, nothing has elevated my ability to identify what makes a scene “work” like the Story Grid Scene Analysis Template. In fact, I believe in these scene-analyzing tools and principles so much that I’m dedicating my monthly columns to teaching you how to master scene analysis, too. 

Why?

Because this will help you learn how to read like a writer, which means mastering how to Read With a Purpose! Score!

As a quick reminder, some of the essentials I will use in today’s scene analysis—as I breakdown the opening scene in Emily Griffin’s bestseller Something Borrowed—can be found in my initial article about Story Grid’s Scene Analysis Template, which I highly recommend you take a few minutes to review if you find you are unfamiliar with any of the following terms/tools/principles in the remainder of this article.

All set? 

Great! Let’s dive into how Emily Griffin enlivens a scene that works in the opening of her breakout novel, Something Borrowed. 

Something Borrowed: Chapter One Summary 

Something Borrowed by Emily Griffin is a New York Times bestseller and women’s fiction masterwork that depicts what Entertainment Weekly called, “the hopeful hearts behind and unsympathetic situation.” Published by St. Martin’s in 2005, Griffin’s novel brought a new voice to women’s fiction with a tale about two friends and their relationship that goes comically awry after the so-called “good girl” and protagonist, Rachel, sleeps with Dex, the fiancé of her best friend, Darcy. 

Before this scandalous night, hard-working lawyer and likeable Rachel always felt second-best to Darcy’s charm and good luck (and looks). She dutifully accepted the role of sidekick, happy to support Darcy’s dreams and endeavors even if Darcy never treated Rachel with equal respect. And yet, several of the crooks fabricating this lopsided relationship explode in Chapter One of Something Borrowed, set on the eve of Rachel’s thirtieth birthday.

Here’s the rundown: 

In this chapter—or scene—we learn an important backstory about Rachel and Darcy’s relationship, which clearly establishes Rachel’s view of Darcy as the better-half in their dynamic duo. Rachel is vulnerable and flawed, and we momentarily sympathize for her. This is Rachel’s lot in life, which she’s been fine with at some low level. But now she is starting to recognize a whole new level of insecurity and longing amidst her reflection on her friendship with Darcy. 

Rachel shares the childhood memory of how Darcy and she discussed their assumptions for what they would do on their thirtieth birthdays. Rachel predicted it would include some form of celebration with her charming husband with her as a happily married and successful mother and lawyer.

When the day comes, in reality she’s faced with unavoidable emptiness. Griffin writes, “My wants are simple: a job that I like and a guy whom I love. And on the eve of my thirtieth, I must face that I am 0 for 2.” 

On the flip side, still-best-friend Darcy loves her job and is newly engaged to Dex (who Rachel introduced to Darcy). Rachel—trying to have fun on her birthday night out with friends—can’t stop ruminating about how Darcy is the “lucky one.” They’re in a much better place than Rachel because when you’re “engaged or married, turning thirty just isn’t the same thing.” 

Cue the sad violin. 

Despite the self-pity, Rachel keeps all these opinions to herself. In this light, the reader understands Rachel’s defeatist thoughts because what middle aged person hasn’t questioned their professional and romantic position in life at one point or another? Don’t say you haven’t. This is human, and this is what draws the reader closer to Rachel. 

While Darcy flirts with a bartender in the fancy New York City restaurant, Rachel concludes a hard truth. She’s unsettled about her future and slightly regretful about her past. She has good things going for her, sure, but overall she’s just…meh. 

As the birthday night progresses, Rachel grows increasingly more drunk. There’s dancing and Darcy is the center of attention. Later, Dex starts to escort his drunk fiance home but he is nagged into staying. This poses a complication that, unbeknownst to Rachel, will raise Rachel’s internal and external stakes.  

Rachel and Dex head for another drink in a different bar. Here, they really start to bond and we sense their instinctive chemistry. Complications arise when Rachel nearly mentions a memory of Darcy. But reminding Dex of Darcy would spur him home to her, and Rachel isn’t ready for that yet. With this, the reader is sucked deeper into the sticky-potential of the story. Something is going on and the tension continues to crank up the heat. 

On their way home, Dex tells the cab driver to make it two stops. The night seems to be on its last end until—Dex starts kissing Rachel without warning. Between kisses, stakes boil over when Rachel hears Dex tell the cab driver it will only be one stop. 

At her apartment, Rachel admits that she experiences a “lucid instant where I consider what I was missing in my twenties” and what she wishes to find in her thirties. With this redirected focus, Rachel pushes Darcy out of her mind and embraces Dex in her bed. 

Thus begins the wild emotional roller coaster that will unravel not only Rachel’s internal search for satisfaction while potentially ruining her oldest friendship, but the romantic events that dangerously complicate the page-turning plot of Griffin’s New York Times bestseller.    

Analyzing the Scene

Remember! 

A STORY EVENT is an active change of life value for one or more characters as a result of conflict (one character’s desires clash with another’s).

A WORKING SCENE contains at least one Story Event.

To determine a Scene’s Story Event, answer these four questions.

1. What are the characters literally doing? Rachel celebrates her thirtieth birthday with her friends, including Darcy and Dex. 
2. What is the essential action (character’s want/intention) of what the characters are doing in the scene? On a global scale, Rachel shares that she wants a job that she’s happy with and a man that she loves. She also shares that, in this scene, she has neither. If only, if only! The essential action that illustrates Rachel’s movement towards getting one of these is when Darcy goes home, and eventually Rachel and Dex stay behind—alone—for another drink. 
3. What life value has changed for one or more of the characters in the scene? Rachel starts this scene unsettled and slightly depressed—she’s not happy with her current romantic and professional life as she enters middle-age. During her birthday celebration, she continually compares her disappointing circumstances to Darcy’s marvelous ones. Although unintentional in how her actions could hurt Darcy, Rachel’s position starts to shift after Darcy leaves and Rachel spends time alone with Dex—eventually leading to a wild, scandalous hookup. On a grand scale, Dex moves from Committed to Infidelity.
4. Which life value should I highlight on my Story Grid Spreadsheet? Rachel moves from Unsettled to Romantically Charged/Excited—this could also be viewed as an agent of Loyalty to Betrayal. (Remember, we use the Socratic Learning Method when analyzing scenes, so how I name/see a value shift could be different than you! It’s not about naming the shift with the perfect words that make you a strong reader, but rather identifying how a shift exists while also understanding how to argue why this advances the plot and develops the character(s).)    

How the Scene Abides the Five Commandments of Storytelling

Inciting Incident: Causal. Darcy invites Rachel to a birthday dinner (this is an inciting incident that occurs in medias res; it initiates Rachel’s night out with her friends).   

(Progressive Complication) Turning Point: Action. Dex invites Rachel for another drink after everybody leaves.   

Crisis: Best Bad Choice. Rachel can deny Dex’s invitation, guaranteeing that she will return home thirty and alone, or, Rachel can accept Dex’s invitation even if Dex isn’t Rachel’s boyfriend and doing so could lead to more intimate bonding.  

Climax: Rachel accepts Dex’s invitation. At the next bar, they bond over commonalities and eventually take a cab home. Although Dex instructs the cab driver to make two stops, the ride quickly escalates into a backseat make-out session. Rachel and Dex both get out at Rachel’s apartment and go upstairs together.   

Resolution: Rachel and Dex hookup.   

The Big Takeaway

Looking at this scene, it’s somewhat obvious as to why this opening chapter immediately captivates the reader. There are high stakes on both a romantic and internal scale.

Although some lines are blurred as to who initiates the hookup—Dex or Rachel—ultimately, they’re both responsible for the events that unfold. In any story, a hookup flush with romantic chemistry is enough to tug the reader forward (here we come chapter two!) because it stimulates a value shift.

What makes Something Borrowed’s opening chapter even more encapsulating is Rachel’s internal stakes mixed with her external ones. We see an explosion of private stakes turned public because of how the events will inevitably impact more than Rachel’s internal and romantic state after this night.  

In this light, it’s remarkably clear that both the plot has advanced and Rachel’s character has developed. There’s a lot more than meets the eye in this New York, middle-aged woman looking for a more satisfying professional and romantic life in this book. As readers, we’re eager to find out what Rachel’s willing to sacrifice and risk in order to get what she wants.

This opening chapter presents a scene that works in a big way, and understanding why it works using Story Grid’s Scene Analysis Template will only help you level up your skills as a reader and writer—by teaching you how to read with a purpose.

Abigail K. Perry is a Certified Story Grid Editor with professional teaching, literary agency, and film production experience. In addition to writing masterwork guides that help people learn how to write, read, and edit like a writer, she works as a freelance developmental editor/book coach and diagnostic editor, and is a monthly columnist for DIY MFA. Abigail also teaches Genre-Focused writing workshops for the genres she specializes in, which include Women’s Fiction, YA Fantasy, Upmarket Fiction, Historical Fiction, and Scripts. As a podcaster, she’s a passionate advocate for the butterfly effect stories have on the individual and world, which she shares with listeners on her podcast, STORY EFFECT. Visit Abigail’s website if you’re a writer looking for an editor who will help you grow as storyteller, and who has experience in differentiated instruction, traditional publishing, and film.

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