the devil — what is story?
I pulled the Devil card this week, so just to let you know, there will be some references to drug use and BDSM in this letter.
Today, I will be answering a question that haunts many writers! 👻
What is Story? Is it the same as plot?
If you've been a reader of this newsletter for a while, you might remember when I talked about writing as psychedelic. Writing can act as a portal to unknown worlds, and story is the substance that gets us there.
To help answer this question, I pulled a card from the Rosebud Tarot. This deck is based on the Smith-Rider-Waite deck, and is accompanied by the poetry of astrologer and witch Diana Rose Harper. The visual design is by Amanda Lee Stilwell.
Their take on the Devil is playful. Two figures are occupied in BDSM. The Devil's chains, which traditionally correspond to addiction and greed, are repurposed here for a consensual and creative act.
Diana Rose Harper writes: “While the person in black might seem to be running the show, the consent of the person in lace is an absolute necessity—temptation only works when agreed to.”
When we read a story, temptation only works when we agree to it. Like the two figures here, we must submit to story.
Story is a drug. Story is the reason we keep reading. We get high on the story to the point where we can forget our surroundings, the time, whatever else we're meant to be doing. Sometimes, a story can begin to feel more real to us than the mundane world.
Plot is architecture which supports and contains story. Thinkers like Joseph Campbell and Vladimir Propp have suggested that there are a limited number of plots in the world. Imogen West-Knight's recent Twitter post claims to outline all possible novel plots. You might recognise your work-in-progress. Mine is literally the first one: “hmm… something not quite right about this house.”
I find these tools useful to analyse story, but not to build it. It is important to understand why certain story shapes appeal to readers, and there is nothing wrong with using these as guidance. I love a good dramatic midpoint, a journey through the forest, or a dark night of the soul. The problem comes when we stick to these shapes at the cost of story.
If plot is external, then story is internal. It is a drug that is generally administered to us through the perspective of one particular character. Even when there are multiple characters, it is likely that there is one who we will be drawn to, whose story we vicariously experience. In some cases (as with certain kinds of detective story, poetry, or experimental fiction) the main character could be the reader.
Let's say that you're writing a story about a nuclear disaster. If you tell this story from the perspective of an unknown lab technician who overcomes self-doubt to save the universe, this is likely to be a very different story to one told from the point of view of the CEO of the nuclear power plant, or from the perspective of sentient plants that emerge from the scorched planet. The nuclear disaster is the plot, but the story is the character’s journey, and this is likely to indicate whether this novel is speculative fiction, an action blockbuster, or an experimental novella.
As in BDSM, boundaries, consent, and care are central to the act of reading and writing: using agreed upon parameters allows both the reader and the writer to sink into the story and enjoy it. If the parameters are too rigid, the work can feel static. If they are too loose, the focus drifts. Experiment with parameters that are flexible enough to explore the edge of the unknown without losing your reader in the abyss.
If in doubt, ask yourself what is at stake here? What will give someone chills when they read this?
Here are some questions to you think about story in your own work-in-progress. Start by thinking of a story that recently entered your bloodstream, that altered your state. This could be a novel, memoir, or essay, but it could also be the composition of a photograph, the volta in a sonnet, or a twist ingredient in a recipe. How did it make you feel? How can you make others feel that way reading your work?
Whose story is this? Whose life will your reader vicariously experience?
What is the one thing about this character that they transmit to everyone they meet? Why is this the one thing they cannot see in themselves.
What is their desire? Why do they think this thing will make them happy? Why won't it work?
What changes for this character that makes them realise the hidden but radioactive truth about themselves? Why does their desire no longer makes sense?
If you can answer these questions, you will have the transformation you need to sustain your story and to create a blissful temptation for your reader.