The Secret Brew of Page-Turning Fiction

by James Scott Bell
@jamesscottbell

In my Super Structure system, I have a signpost scene called “Trouble Brewing.” As I explain in the book:

Somewhere around the middle of Act I is a scene where we get a whiff of big trouble to come. It’s not the major confrontation, because we’re not yet in Act II. But we can sense that it’s out there, brewing.

It’s a portent.

But it’s not only here that trouble should brew. It really needs to be bubbling throughout the book.

We all know that conflict is the lifeblood of plot. Without conflict, there is no testing of character, and it’s the test that reveals true the essence behind the mask. We wouldn’t give two rips about that whiny Scarlett if she didn’t get hit with the Civil War. Dorothy would still be down on the farm if it weren’t for the twister dumping her in a land of witches, Munchkins, a talking scarecrow, and trees that throw apples.

The testing should be ongoing, and each major scene should be a boat over troubled waters.

Back at the beginning of my serious pursuit of writing, I went to my favorite used bookstore and stocked up on paperbacks by King, Koontz, and Grisham. I started reading with a pencil in my hand, marking up places where I observed the craft at work.

One thing I noticed is how they would end chapters or scenes in a way that made me want to turn the page. I marked these places with the notation ROP (for Read-On Prompt).

Thus, you can end a scene with trouble happening (a guy with a gun comes through the door) or about to happen (the doorknob is turning). But it can also be reflected in the character’s thoughts.

In Kiss Me, Deadly, when Mike Hammer returns to his apartment after being sapped, questioned by the Feds, and told to lay off trying to figure out who killed the girl that was in his car, he sees his place has been searched. He figures it’s by the Feds, but also somebody else. The scene ends with a trouble-brewing ROP:

The smoke that was trouble started to boil up around me again. You couldn’t see it and you couldn’t smell it, but it was there. I started whistling again and picked up the .45.

Trouble as metaphorical smoke shows up at the end of a scene from Lawrence Block’s A Ticket to the Boneyard. Scudder is protecting Elaine, a prostitute who is the target of a serial killer. Turns out Scudder is also a target. The killer has left a message on Elaine’s machine:

“I was thinking of you earlier. But it’s not your turn yet. You have to wait your turn, you know. I’m saving you for last.” A pause, but a brief one. “I mean second-last. He’ll be the last.”

That was all he had to say, but the tape ran another twenty or thirty seconds before he broke the connection. Then the answering machine clicked and whirred and readied itself to handle incoming calls again, and we sat there in a silence that hung in the air like smoke.

In The Big Kill, Hammer sees a man in a bar with a bundle (that turns out to be a baby), crying. He hates to see a guy cry like that. Suddenly, the guy kisses the baby and races outside, leaving the baby behind. Mike follows and sees the guy down the street, just as gunshots from a car mow him down.

Why? Hammer, as always, has to find the answer (especially as he’s now the de facto guardian of the baby).

Later, he’s going over the facts of the case with his friend, police captain Pat Chambers. Chambers reels off his theory, and it makes sense on the surface. But Mike has doubts. The scene ends:

“You’re a crazy bastard,” Pat said.

“So I’ve been told. Does the D.A. want to see me?”

“No, you were lucky it broke so fast.”

“See you around then, Pat. I’ll keep in touch with you.”

“Do that,” he said. I think he was laughing at me inside. I wasn’t laughing though. There wasn’t a damn thing to laugh about when you saw a guy cry, kiss his kid, then go out and make him an orphan.

Like I said, the whole thing stunk.

To high heaven.

We want to know why it stinks, too. So we read on.

Try this: look at all your scene endings. See if you can add some form of trouble—brewing or happening. I’ve also found a ROP can be produced when you cut the last line or two of the ending. It leaves a sense that something is not quite resolved.

Which is what you want, right up to the page-turning end.

27 thoughts on “The Secret Brew of Page-Turning Fiction

  1. Jim, thanks for a good analysis of what causes readers to think, “I’ll just read one more chapter before turning out the lights.”

    My favorite authors seduce me, page by page, throughout the story.

  2. A critique partner referred to these ROPs as “landings.” One of the things we watch for as each of us presents a chapter for evaluation is how it ends. If I’m not overstepping, I did a post on the topic a while back.
    Happy Sunday.

  3. Great exercise for me to do right now as I’m reading through a first draft manuscript. For sure there are a few scenes where they won’t pass the ‘trouble brewing’ test…

  4. Thanks, Jim, for the reminder and explanation of ways to keep readers turning pages. I find the ROP, landing, or cliffhanger one of the most enjoyable parts of plotting, and include it in my outline.

  5. Thanks for these reminders, Jim.

    Super Structure is full of so much writing wisdom. I just went back to refresh my memory of it and was reminded of the whole title: Super Structure: The Key to Unleashing the Power of Story.

    I love the idea that the power of the story can be unleashed by understanding concepts like ROPs. That prompted a question: Is it possible to overdo it? I read a book awhile back (can’t remember the title) where the author put a cliff-hanger at the end of each chapter. It seemed to me that the author was writing the story around the cliff-hangers rather than the other way around. In other words, the story had become secondary. How do we avoid that?

    Having said that, I need to go back and review all the chapter endings in my WIP.

    • Kay, I think the key is to recognize that not all chapter endings are cliffhangers. As I point out here, there is a range from simply thinking about trouble to having trouble actually about to happen or happening. Variety is the key. Sometimes subtlety is called for. ROPs can be done in such a way that the reader isn’t knocked over the head every time.

      • For sure! You don’t want the reader waiting for the next hook, thinking here it comes.

        My S&S novel had about 70% hookish endings. I didn’t try for 100%, but I did go through and end a few more chapters with questions, instead of statements.

        How big is this frog? Hirand wondered.

  6. Terrific advice, Jim. The through line of the book must be trouble. I love the idea of a “read on prompt,” It’s something I aim to include at the end of each scene, certainly each chapter. It can be all too easy to go easy on our characters, when we really need to make more trouble.

    Your examples vividly illustrate this.

    Thanks for another great post on craft.

    Have a wonderful Sunday! I certainly will–it’s my wife’s birthday and our wedding anniversary. We were married on her 19th birthday, three weeks shy of my 21st, 41 years ago now.

  7. This is such an important topic, Jim. If nothing springs to mind while writing, I’ll leave myself a note “need landing point” to remind me to include a ROP. Can’t let readers put the book down without flipping just one more page. 😉

  8. Soooo important, this topic. It’s a weakness I see in many unsuccessful manuscripts. Mainly, that the writer doesn’t seem to understand *when* to end a scene. Not only so it creates suspense but also so it maintains a structural logic and can transition to the NEXT scene or chapter.

    Also, sometimes it’s effective to leave your best line in the scene for the end. 🙂

  9. Late to the party, but this post is gold. Saving it.

    And not just the post…the comments are instructive also. I never check in and out here without learning. Thanks everyone.

    Back from Texas…back to work on the morrow! 🥳

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