By Rachel Leitch

Short stories can be intimidating despite their size.

They seem so easy. They love to fool me that way. After all, they argue, they’re much shorter. Much less words and scenes and such to try to fill with brilliance.

But once you dive in, I suddenly realize I still have to keep the same emotional beats as a full-length novel. I still have to develop all the characters and make them realistic and sympathetic. I still have to work through all the stages of the character arc.

And plot structure! How could I forget plot structure?

All in 1,000 to 10,000 words.

Pretty soon, I find myself staring at the paper that was supposed to be my outline and wondering, “What am I even doing?”

Short stories—simply because of their brevity—actually have the opportunity to pack a harder punch with readers. Through the use of inferences, poignant images, and crackling events, we can drive home a point and try new ideas that may impact someone who would never have picked it up as a novel.

And the secret to it all is the plot.

If you’re familiar with Three-Act Plot Structure, then never fear! This universal method of plotting works for short stories as well. If you’re not familiar with it, now is your chance to learn on a much smaller scale. I’ll walk you through each main step of a short story and hopefully give you some tips on how to ace them.

If you don’t tend to be a plotter and this all looks like a lot to you, don’t worry! As with novel writing, you can adapt this structure to an outline that works for you. Even if you don’t have to have this all laid out on paper ahead of time as I tend to, you’ll probably get some idea of these plot components in your head before you start writing.  

The trick is to dream smaller.

Act One

1. The Characteristic Moment

The Basics: The characteristic moment is the first chance we have to meet your character. Usually, you throw them into a less-than-ideal situation in their normal world. When readers see how they react, they get a sense of who this character is. 

What stays the same: This is your chance to make your main character shine. This scene makes or breaks whether the audience buys your main character or not. And main characters are often the key to selling a story.

What changes: However, instead of having several chapters to showcase the very best of your character’s attributes and hint at the turmoil that plagues them, you now have one scene. Maybe not even a whole scene, depending on how many other characters you have to introduce. During this time, you also need to set up your setting and characters.

Aah! How do you cram all that into one scene?

A few tricks:

  -What place would demonstrate the time and place of your setting most vividly? Put your character there for the first scene.

  -What is your character’s element? Thieves steal. Bakers bake. Pranksters prank. What does your character do? Open your story with them in their element.

  -What is the one thing you want your readers to know about your main character? How can they demonstrate that one thing in this scene?

  -What is the main problem the main character faces? How can you at least hint at it in this scene?

For example: In my short story, The Girl Who Drove the Getaway Car , I put my main character, Isla Medlock, in her garage examining a rare car. I was able to sprinkle in a lot of neat 1920’s references. Plus, my audience knew right away that she wasn’t like other girls and had a penchant for the mechanical. It also hinted at her main problem, the conflict with her mother, when I revealed that Isla was in the garage during her mother’s party.

2. The Inciting Incident

The Basics: The Inciting Incident is what tears your character out of their normal world and forces them to make new decisions. 

What stays the same: Something comes out of the blue (or not) that changes your character’s world completely. There are two ways this can go. One, as not an active choice on the main character’s part, but rather, something that happens to them whether they want it or not. Two, as something that happens as a result of a choice they made earlier in the story. Both of these options have some very compelling stories to go with them, however, option two is most likely to grab your reader’s attention.

What changes: Because you’re short on space, you skip straight from the Characteristic Moment to the Inciting Incident. Everything that you cleverly set up a scene ago is flipped on its head.

While this change is understandably quite drastic, you’ll want to be careful to not overwhelm your reader.

A few tricks:

  -Could something in the setting, the character’s main trait, or the other important characters work against your main character? These elements are already set up and might seem less like a rocket out of nowhere, while still providing an appropriate, um, punch.

  -Could something stay the same (the setting, the character’s main trait, or the other important characters)? Maybe refer back to an event in the beginning or have your character exhibit that main trait again.

For Example: Isla shows up for a new job that her cousins helped get her, but she quickly discovers that she’s actually helping them escape with a stolen car from one of London’s wealthiest families. While this is a huge development, the setting remains the same, Isla’s personality doesn’t change, as demonstrated by her reaction to the event. Her cousins’ mannerisms also remain the same, even though everything else about the way we see them has changed.

3. First Plot Point

The Basics: The First Plot Point is the decision the character makes to deal with the Inciting Incident.

What stays the same: Your character still needs to make a decision about this inciting incident, and fast. That decision is what makes up the first plot point. It’s a new course of action, something they wouldn’t have tried before.

What changes: In a novel, they might have a couple chapters to ruminate and come to a conclusion. Now they have, oh, a couple paragraphs.

A few tricks:

  -Make sure whatever they would usually do in a stressful situation--their fallback--is far away and inaccessible.

  -Now that their usual course of action is gone, what would they try next? Don’t give them too much time to think about it. Just go with the first thing they would naturally try next.

For example: Now that Isla knows the scheme, she decides to stay with her cousins due to threats they’ve made against her and her family. Despite that choice, she immediately begins scheming her own way out.

Act Two

(Especially the Midpoint)

The Basics: Usually in Act Two, you have several chapters where your character is simply reacting. They’ve made their decision in the first plot point, but as they try to follow through on that decision, problems keep getting in their way and they have to readjust. Even though they’ve made that decision in the First Plot Point, they’re still trying to find a way to get back to the normal world as soon as possible.

These problems increase in intensity until the Midpoint. This is where they realize maybe the normal world wasn’t that great after all. They realize the mistake they’ve been making. Most importantly, they decide to change. K. M. Weiland describes this as the shift from defensive to offensive. The Midpoint is different than the First Plot Point because getting back to normal is no longer the goal. Doing something better, even though it’s hard is now the goal. 

And it is hard. This resolve is tested over and over in the second half of Act Two. (Again, normally with several chapters.) This leads up to a false victory where your character faces the antagonistic force and comes out the winner. (Or so it seems--but just wait until Act Three.)

What stays the same: The purpose of Act Two is still to bring your character from who they were at the beginning to the better (or worse) person they will be at the end. It may seem boring, but this is actually one of the most important sections of your story.

Your character will still spend some time just trying to get their bearings in the new normal. But most importantly, they will still make a decision that will change the game entirely and make them go on the offensive (the midpoint). They will face tests and trials on this new path that will ultimately lead to what seems like a victory.

What changes: Act Two is perhaps the act that gets the most condensed in a short story. Your characters only have a scene or two to react to their adverse situation before the midpoint smacks them in the face and they have to choose again. Once they have that plan, again, the tests and trials section is extremely condensed—perhaps even saved for the low point in Act Three (but I’m getting ahead of myself). For right now, your main character’s new mission, while not perfect, seems to end happily.

A few tricks:

  -What is a problem your character could face because of their decision in Act One? How can they attempt to get back to “normal”? 

  -Make sure your midpoint doesn’t get buried! We still want to see your main character make a choice to start fighting back, to become a better person. How do they realize they need to change? (Does a friend point it out? Do they see it in the villain? Do they lose something important because of their previous choices?) What do they need to change, and how do they plan to change it? 

  -What one thing would really make your character rethink their mission? Now have them face it and come out successful—or so it seems.

  -Make sure to leave that caveat--a tiny hole where everything could come crashing down--in the false victory. You’ll need it in Act Three.

For example: In my short story So Much More (https://racheljleitch.weebly.com/fiction/so-much-more),  Aleksandra reacts to her plan to pose as Anastasia Romanova being discovered—she goes ahead with her plan and announces herself as Anastasia at a ball that evening. Her midpoint comes when she receives the note from the boy who discovered her plan asking to meet her for coffee. She accepts. Her false victory is woven into the other two events—both by successfully pulling off her scheme, and by successfully agreeing to meet the one person who could destroy everything.

Act Three

1. The Low Point

The Basics: The villain finally gets their spotlight. This is where they show what they’re really capable of. Through a series of events, they knock out all the character’s progress and often take something very important to them.

What stays the same: Well, it’s called a false victory for a reason. Just when your character thinks they are on the brink of victory, the villain comes through and wrecks it all. (Literally, everything.) For just a few moments, the main character actually considers giving up.

What changes: Since you don’t have much time, you may not have time for a long series of events to wreck everything. You may need to do it all in one or two swoops.

A few tricks: The trick to nailing the low point in your short story is to take away the thing that means the most to your main character. All the other failures have been leading up to this. All the bricks they’ve built are knocked away and they’re left in the same place they were in the beginning.

  -What is the one thing that would bring your character to their knees? Now have your villain take that one thing away.

  -How would your character react to that one thing being taken away?

  -How can you figuratively or literally send your character back to where they were at the beginning of the story?

For example: In Simple Dances by Dani Renee (https://storyembers.org/second-place-winner-simple-dances/), Willie’s low point comes when he realizes that Gladys, the customer next to him whom he simply thought annoying, was actually lonely just like he is. He regrets not being kinder to her and missing the task he wonders if God put before him.

2. The Climax

The Basics: This is the “epic battle” of your story. Your character faces the villain once again. Because of the low point, the villain is now stronger. There’s more chance your character will lose. And if they lose, because of the low point, we now know how much damage that loss will do. 

What stays the same: Don’t let your character wallow in their misery too long before the greatest crisis they’ve ever faced stares them down. They now have the chance to run and face the crisis using what they’ve learned—or to make the final return to the place we found them in the beginning.

What changes: You probably won’t be able to do an epic Narnia-style battle. But short stories thrive on tension, and that tension can come from any number of places—relationships with other characters, adverse setting, and more.

A few tricks: 

  -What is the main character’s biggest struggle that you set up throughout the story?

  -What happens that forces him to face that struggle? 

  -What is the big decision he has to make while he is facing that struggle? (For example, giving into it or overcoming it.)

  -Does your character overcome the struggle or give into it? What happened earlier in the story that foreshadowed that choice?

  -How does all the conflict you've introduced earlier in the story reach it's boiling point in the climax?

For example: Willie now faces the choice to stay comfortably alone at the diner . . . or to follow Gladys and spend the day at the classic car show with her after all, giving up the lonely lifestyle he’s grown so accustomed to.

3. The Resolution

The Basics: We get to see the results of the character’s choice. The plot threads are tied up and the story ends.

What stays the same: Your resolution still needs to tie up all the loose threads and satisfy your reader.

What changes: But everything doesn’t have to be spelled out. You have a little play room here. Not every character has to have a clearly defined end—it just has to be enough that your reader doesn’t throw up their hands in frustration. Not every little detail of life here on out has to be clear. Hint at some of the endings or even leave the inferences in the hands of the reader.

A few tricks: There’s lots of small, subtle ways to illustrate how your character has changed and succeeded.

  -Contrast their current location/main trait/etc. with the beginning. How is it different?

  -Or go ahead and return them to where they were at the beginning. How do they react to it differently now?

  -Leave it hanging just a bit. Give the reader a sign the character has changed, but maybe don’t solve everything right away, and let the reader do it instead.

  -Make a list of the threads you need to tie up. Figure out which ones are important and which ones could be left to an element of mystery.

  -As with any other part of your story, get some test readers to let you know whether the ending stuck the landing.

For example: Your turn! Check out Simple Dances above and see how the ending leaves us satisfied without telling us every little detail of how the subsequent day and the rest of their lives went.

Conclusion:

Short stories have a unique way of connecting with a reader. They squeeze in places where longer stories can’t and make us pause for just a moment to think. And now you’re on your way to wowing them with a stellar plot! Stay tuned to Kingdom Pen—I believe I’ve seen some other awesome Dragon Slayers preparing some amazing tips for us—both on how to weave character arcs and other story components into this strong framework you’ve created and on how to execute specific points of the plot.

Until then, what section of a short story is the hardest for you to plot? Do you like plotting or would you rather figure it out as you go? What are some of your favorite short stories? Let me know in the comments below!