How Many Subplots is Too Many?

James Scott Bell


Someone on Twitter asked: How many subplots is too many?

At first, I was going to say something profound like, “That depends.” But then I started to noodle on it, and decided what we need here is a formula.

My tongue is planted only slightly in my cheek here, because the more I think about it, the more I think this formula actually works. If there’s going to be an exception, you’ll have to justify it. But if you stick to these parameters, I think you’ll be fine.

First, what is a subplot? It’s a plot line that has its own story question and arc. It usually complicates the main plot in some way. It may or may not involve the same Lead character as in the main plot.

A subplot is not merely a plot “complication.” A subplot has its own reason for being, and weaves in and out of (or back and forth with) the main plot. Or it might go along on its own until it links up with the main later in the book. But here’s the deal: because it does have its own reason for being, it’s going to take up a significant chunk of real estate in your novel.

That being so, here is my formula for the maximum number of subplots, by word count, you can have in your novel (a novel being a minimum of 60,000 words).

60k words: 1 subplot (e.g., in a category romance, you might have the female Lead plotline, and the love interest plotline, which intersect)

80k: 2-3

100k: 3-4

Over 100 k: 5

There is no 6. Six subplots is too many for any length, unless your name is Stephen King.

My thinking is that if you have more subplots than suggested above, they will either overwhelm or detract from the main plot.

Sound right? What’s your take on the care and feeding of subplots?

by John Gilstrap
http://www.johngilstrap.com/

Let’s do another first page critique. This one is entitled, “I Just Killed My Wife…Does Anyone Have Change for a Twenty?” The italicized block below is the original text (italics added by me):

It’s quiet here, although it shouldn’t be. I can hear my heart thumping in my ears. My breath is short and shallow. The beads of sweat trickling down the side of my cheek seem so pronounced. I should be hearing and feeling more than I am, but the sounds around me are muted. The girl I’m holding won’t stop crying, however, her sobs are more like faint background noise than anything I should be concerned with. The man pointing his gun at me is screaming something. I can barely hear what he’s saying. There is nothing in my foreground to take me away from the quiet I find myself suddenly enveloped in. Perhaps this is the calm one feels before they die.

The Glock I’m holding has no weight to it. It feels like a plastic toy. I’m sitting on the ground with my arm outstretched. It’s trembling as it aims at my target who is, in turn, prepared to fire himself. Suddenly we’re the living, breathing rendition of the Reservoir Dogs movie poster. The police have surrounded the building. I can see their pulsating lights penetrating the dark hallway beyond where I lie. With only a flashlight I left on in the other room and the emergency exit sign above the door, I can see the outline of the man I’m willing to kill, but can’t make out any details of his face. Parts of his weapon – the barrel and trigger guard – shine in our otherwise black surroundings. I should be home eating a TV dinner and watching Seinfeld reruns or Vampire Diaries. How did I end up here? How did I become a murderer?

There are some good bones here, I think; but as is the case in so many of the submissions to the Kill Zone, this one is way over-written for my taste. Before getting to the guts of the story, though, I have to say that I hate the title. Having said that, I have to confess that I always hate cute writing. Cute puppies and cute kids are great, but cute writing just makes me want to move on to the next choice on the shelf. If this were a published book on the shelves of my local bookstore, the title would keep me from even picking it up. But that’s just me.

Self-consciously clever or over-stylizaed writing are close cousins to cute. The more aware I am of the writing, the less engaged I am in the story, and for me, story is the most important thing. This is why I continue to believe that it is always a mistake to write in the present tense. I don’t like most present-tense books even when they are written by seasoned professionals. In less experienced hands, the distraction is overwhelming.

Now for the good stuff: Overall, I think the short sentence construction works well, even if in many cases the sentences are not quite short enough. Below, I’ve been presumptuous enough to edit the piece to demonstrate how shortening can make a piece stronger. Pay particular attention to how phrases such as “I’m sitting” and “it’s trembling” are stronger as “I sit” and “it trembles.” That -ing sentence construction is often troubling because it reads as passive.

Finally, the only major criticism I have is the throw-away reference to the Reservoir Dogs movie poster. It just didn’t work for me–largely because I have no idea what the poster looks like.

Now, here’s my shot at an edit:

“I Just Killed My Wife…Does Anyone Have Change for a Twenty?”

It’s quiet here. My heart thumps in my ears. My breath is short and shallow. The beads of sweat on my cheek seem so pronounced. I should be hearing and feeling more than I am, but the sounds are muted. The girl I hold won’t stop crying. The man pointing his gun at me screams but I can barely hear. Perhaps this is the calm before death.

My Glock has no weight. It feels like a plastic toy. My arm is outstretched. It trembles as it aims at my target who is, in turn, prepared to shoot me. Parts of his weapon – the barrel and trigger guard – shine in our otherwise black surroundings. I should be home eating a TV dinner and watching Seinfeld reruns. How did I end up here? How did I become a murderer?

Learning the Hard Way

by Reece Hirsch

A few years ago, I was fortunate to read a copy of Reece Hirsch’s thriller THE INSIDER before it found a home. Now, I usually don’t read unpublished manuscripts, because my agent warned me against it. But I knew Reece from a critique group, so I made an exception. And boy, am I glad I did. THE INSIDER is a heck of a debut, everything a good thriller should be. I recommend picking up a copy before they sell out, you won’t regret it. -Michelle

My debut legal thriller The Insider was published by Berkley Books this month as a mass-market paperback, marking the end of the first phase of my education in how to, and how not to, write a thriller. While I am but a humble newbie writer, I learned a few things in my six-year struggle to complete a novel and get it published. I make no claims to the wisdom and experience of your regular Kill Zone authors – they’ve all written many more books than I have. But here are a few lessons that I think I’ve learned, most of them the hard way.

  • The All-Important First Page. I’ve been enjoying the Kill Zone’s recent series of first-page critiques because the importance of the first page, and the first chapter, cannot be overstated. Take it from someone who sent his manuscript out to agents the first time with a less-than-gripping opening. The competition for the attention of agents and, later, publishers, is so intense that if the first chapter doesn’t grab them, they often won’t read further. I tried out several different openings for my book, in response to the urging of a couple of knowledgeable readers that it needed to be “bigger” and “grabbier.” They were right.

  • Write What You Know – Then Make Stuff Up. Despite the number of legal thrillers lining the bookstore shelves, I found that, as a practicing lawyer, there were still many aspects of the legal profession and law firm life that were relatively fresh ground for the genre. If readers recognize authoritative details drawn from life (in my case, the world of lawyers and law firms), then they’re more likely to follow you when you venture into areas where you’re working from research or sheer fabrication (in my case, the Russian mob). For example, in The Insider, I touch upon the tussles over billing credit among partners that can sometimes define a legal career. In another scene, I try to show the drama that can be found in the gamesmanship of an M&A negotiation. I also drew upon my knowledge of privacy and security law in developing one of the novel’s key plot elements involving government domestic surveillance and an actual National Security Agency program from the mid-Nineties known as the Clipper Chip. However, a little legal verisimilitude goes a long way with most readers, and I soon figured out that if I painted too accurate a picture of the life of a young corporate attorney like my protagonist Will Connelly, my book would be about as exciting as a day spent reviewing contracts in a due diligence room.

  • Embrace the Process. Many of the debut authors that I’ve met recently have a first, unpublished manuscript in the drawer, their “learner book.” Instead of scrapping my first attempt and starting over on a second book, I chose, perhaps from sheer stubbornness, to laboriously rework and rework my first book until it was publishable. Whichever route you take, there seems to be no getting around the fact that, unless you are some sort of literary prodigy, writing a publishable novel often takes years of painstaking revision and refinement. Find a reader or two that you trust and listen to their comments. If you hear a suggestion that you know will make your book better, don’t fight it – even if means discarding a chapter or character that you love or doing a page-one rewrite.

  • There Are Rules. This is a corollary to my point about revisions. There are certain rules and reader expectations that apply to thrillers. For example, your protagonist can’t be passive. And it’s always nice to kill someone early on. Read widely in your genre of choice, try to get a sense of the rules, and ignore them at your peril. If you’re violating a rule, make sure that you’re doing it knowingly and for a good reason, like subverting reader expectations.

  • BlurbQuest. One thing that surprised me was how early the success of a book is evaluated by publishers. Before a single reader has purchased your book, its fate will to a certain extent be decided by how many copies are ordered by booksellers. And how do booksellers evaluate a book by a debut author? They judge the book by its cover, the blurbs and the degree of push that the publisher is giving the book, as reflected in how highly it is placed on the list in the publisher’s catalogue.As a writer, you can’t control how good your cover art is (but I was really pleased with mine) or where a publisher slots you on their list, but you can be the master of your own fate when it comes to obtaining blurbs. And if your blurbs are really good, it may influence how your publisher views your book (and thus where you end up on their list and how much effort goes into the cover art). Start your BlurbQuest early, and don’t be afraid to approach established authors. One of the great, pleasant surprises of my debut author experience has been learning how generous fellow writers, even very successful ones, can be when it comes to reading and blurbing a new writer’s work. And Kill Zone author Michelle Gagnon takes the prize because she actually read my manuscript and blurbed me before I even had an agent!
  • Reece Hirsch is a partner in the San Francisco office of Morgan, Lewis, Bockius LLP.

Don’t confuse your readers

Confusion is a writer’s enemy. When your reader gets confused by something in your manuscript,  she has to stop to figure things out. I’m a cranky reader–if I get repeatedly confused, I stop reading.

There are many ways to confuse readers–some are sins of omission, others of commission.
Here are some of the major manuscript issues that have confused me as a reader:

  • Switching a character’s name from his full name to a nickname without providing enough context for the switch. For example, a character might be introduced as Dr. Anthony Powell, but then is referred to as Tony in the next reference. 
  • Using character names that are too similar: Terry and Tara, Brandy and Sandy, Milton and Merle.
  • Introducing an unusual word, term, or concept without enough context for it to be understood.
  • Including two characters of the same gender in a paragraph, followed by dialogue or action that is attributed to “he” or “she,” without clarifying who is speaking or acting.
  • Switching POV without a format break.
  • Allowing a character to drop from a scene for three or four pages, then suddenly reappear without reintroduction.
  • Including too many characters in a single paragraph or scene.

What have I left out? What are some of the things that confuse you as a reader, or that you avoid as a writer?

A Class Act

by Clare Langley-Hawthorne

I’ve just returned from a great weekend away at the Malice Domestic conference where Mary Higgins Clark received a richly deserved lifetime achievement award. From the first moment I met her in the elevator I was struck by both her graciousness and her humility. In all her speeches and panels she provided wonderful advice with an air of total professionalism. She was, in short, a class act.

Although almost everyone else I encountered was similarly professional I did witness, on occasion, behavior that convinced me it was time to address the delicate subject of ‘conference etiquette’ (or as I like to subtitle it ‘how not to make an ass out of yourself’). My draft rules of etiquette (and believe me, I’m hoping for your comments to add and refine these) are as follows:

  • Remember, if you happen to be a published author of any ilk, that arrogance like pride, usually comes before the fall. I couldn’t believe how some authors treated aspiring authors (or even other published authors) with barely concealed disdain – as if that somehow made their work seem superior. I know it’s a cut-throat industry but dissing others will not get you ahead.
  • Remember that marketing does not include foisting your book on a reader without their permission. I was actually at a session where I was told to ‘write my name’ on a slip of a paper only to realize (I was never told) that this meant I was now in an enforced raffle for someone’s book who was not even a participant on the panel I was attending…People need to be asked if they want your book or marketing material….
  • Remember the basic common courtesies – don’t push in, cut people off, ask rude questions (and yes, demanding to know some person’s print run may constitute a rude question if they don’t know you!) or crash other people’s parties.
  • Smile and be generous to those who are waiting on you at functions, serving you coffee, helping with the AV or volunteering. The snafu is rarely their fault…
  • When on a panel do not hog the mic, be rude to the moderator or generally act as though you are far too superior to impart your esteemed knowledge on the attendees (believe me, I actually saw all three occur!)
  • Remember the unwritten code of published and unpublished authors – we’re in this together – so never denigrate, belittle, bitch about or undermine a fellow to author to anyone else, least of all an editor or agent!

So those are some of my initial rules… What would you add or amend? What conference faux-pas/ breaches of etiquette/ acts of unbelievable rudeness have you ever witnessed?

Your Best Writing Advice

James Scott Bell


Today is “Talk Among Yourselves Day.” I want to hear from you.

The question I have is: What’s the best writing advice you ever received?

It doesn’t matter if you’re published, pre-published or simply the town eccentric — what is it that someone told you, or that you read, which has served (and is serving) you well as a writer?

I get asked this question a lot, and my own answer as been pretty consistent over the years. I’ll share that with you later in the day, in the comments, so for now let’s get the conversation going.

What’s the best writing advice you ever received?

Life is taking up all of my time.

By John Ramsey Miller

The Ramsey is back this week because I realized that although it may be pretentious, it is a vital part of my identity. Originally I put the Ramsey in because there were more than one John R. Millers scribbling. It is my actual name, even though the census bureau only wants the R, and has deemed the Ramsey irrelevant to existing in the rolls.

I’ve spent the past week learning to be a census taker, or an enumerator, and it’s been an eye opener. The idea of going up to a house and knocking on a door where I am not expected runs against my nature, and not necessarily being welcome to be on the front porch amazing. If you have never been told to “Get the F*ck off my property and don’t come back!” you are missing some real life up close. I took an oath and am fully capable of keeping your deepest secrets or I could go to prison for six years and be fined $250,000.00. So, although I love gossip, I’m not telling anybody anything that is PII (Personally Identifiable Information), or regarded as a “State Secret, or (as we say in the trade) a High Secret of the Federal Gov’ment.

I’ll say this about the Census Bureau, my class was comprised of people from all walks of life, some of which are working more than one job. Nicest bunch of people you’ll ever meet outside a writer’s conference. I’m not a best selling author doing research or looking to supplement my vast income from sales of my books, I’m another co-cog in the wheel and I like that.

I need to be knocking on doors and meeting people and running from dogs, and being rejected because I am a federal agent for a meddlesome government. I have awesome powers. “No Trespassing” signs do not apply to me and this is something the owners of the property often object to. The other day I went to an isolated location to pick up some old fencing for my chickens and the owners of the property had to walk down to a gate just like the one on the border of a small country. When they arrived I told them as a census worker I could have entered and he said, “That’s what guns are for.” And he meant it, or so you’d think is you didn’t know him, which I didn’t. After three shots of Ancient Age after loading the fence segments on my trailer, I told him, “You don’t have to cooperate with the census. This is America. Even though it is in the Constitution and serves purposes too numerous to mention, you can tell them to f*ck off, or chase them to your gate with a gun. They “can” fine you $100.00 (probably never happen) but they’ll have to come back and keep trying. But privacy is your right. And they probably won’t fine you. Do this for me,” I said. “Put a sign by the fence that says, “Census workers. There are two of us living back here in a cabin with two dogs and a cat. We don’t allow anybody on our property uninvited, which there is a mortgage on. I will tell you that there were two of us (a married couple) that were living here on April 1, 2010 and nothing else is any of your business. I’m crusty and my wife lets me be.” He agreed to do that.

The truth is most people who say, “get off my property” are good people. My fence buddy certainly is, but he is suspicious of the government and with good reason. I feel the same way about the government I have been watching for the past forty years. But I also know that the census is a good thing. I do believe that the information that links named people with a place in time is a great historical record (The PII records are sealed for 72 years), and the statistics are available to corporations looking for a factory location, an office, and so forth. The government uses the stats to bend and twist to justify this or deny that. Not my job to worry about that, but my right to worry if I like.

So for the next four weeks or so I’m not an author. I’m off today to run a rural route out in the county and knock on doors, and help gather information and not as an author, but as a strange man at the door asking impertinent questions. I’m sure I’ll have all the research for writing about door-to-dooring I’ll ever need.

So, guys and gals, when someone knocks on your door and asks to fill out a form because you didn’t mail it back in time, or fill it out, think of he or she as me, and smile and agree or refuse, but remember that person is somone’s son or daughter father or grandfather or whatever and be nice. believe me it matters.