The Plot Thickens

In the last several days, the plots of two stories I'm tackling suddenly came together.

I was watching Ad Astra (a really good movie, by the way) when I realized what "Just a Regular Joe" actually looked like.  It came tumbling into view just as Brad Pitt was plunging down to earth, an image that itself made the movie for me.  Suddenly I knew what the main character in the story was struggling with, the relationships that defined him, everything. 

Similarly, after watching The Gentlemen in theaters, I knew how to write "Rest Stop."  (By the way, actually writing the thing will have to take a miracle, because now I have to do that on the day it's due, a classic scholastic scenario if there ever was one.) 

These were matters of knowing the stories but not knowing them.  There's a huge difference.  One is the basic plot, the basic elements.  The other is knowing what to do with them.

I think a lot of writers misunderstand this fundamental aspect of their craft.  They get hung up on the mere act of writing that they hope later revisions will iron out the differences.  But once you set out on a journey, you're already halfway there.  You have to have a solid plan.  If you haven't at least allowed yourself to figure it out along the way (another valid option), you're going to end up with something that's infinitely less than it could have been, because even if you and most of your readers won't be able to tell the difference, it will still be there.  And the story will die a slow death, or if you're really lucky, someone will care enough in the future to fix it for you.

Because the story is in the details.  The story is in how you tell it.  Movies have made it so much easier to distinguish the craft from the concept.  As far back as Citizen Kane, which hinges entirely on finally learning what "Rosebud" is (and in hindsight, everything makes so much more sense), and up to Memento, which is entirely defined by its flashback structure (seeing it in sequence would in theory make as much sense, once you'd seen it as originally intended, but then you'd lose the shape of it), filmmakers have understood that the language of the story is at least as important as the story itself.  Even the cold detachment of Melville explaining whaling is essential to the tragedy of Ahab's madness, however baffling and unnecessary it might seem to the unsuspecting reader.

So now I know how to tell a few of the stories I've been trying to tackle.  I'd had ideas already, but in hindsight they now look hollow and impoverished.  As to whether or not I can pull either of them off, that's another matter entirely.  But I can try.