Amanda Frederickson's Blog: Musings - Posts Tagged "structure"
The Payoff
Think about your job. Love it or hate it, why do you work at your job?
Let’s face it, even if you adore what you do and can’t wait to bounce out of bed in the morning to go do it, what separates a job from a hobby is that little thing that comes in periodically as a tangible representation of the worth of your work: a paycheck.
If it came in at half what you expected, you would be pretty hopping mad. You would feel cheated. On the other hand, if it turned out to be twice as much as expected, boy, can we say glee? I don’t know about you, but I’d be doing some dancing.
I recently got hooked on a Korean historical drama (bear with me) and it does a fabulous job with cliffhanger endings for each episode. In the last few moments, there is always a dramatic twist or a face we haven’t seen in a while that promises trouble for our heroine, or the villain reveals a new dastardly scheme…. But. After the first few episodes, those little dramatic hints and implied promises didn’t really go anywhere. Schemes fizzled, faces disappeared again or weren’t recognized. It started getting boring. There was no payoff.
Then finally after twenty episodes, the carefully stacked house of cards has its entire foundation whipped out from under it, reducing our heroine to a wailing wreck, questioning her entire life’s purpose. Now we’re getting somewhere!
How many people are willing to wait twenty episodes (adding up to more than twenty hours, because those suckers are long!) for a plot to move forward?
Granted, the biggest payoff should be the ending or anything else will seem anticlimactic. But there should be movement in the middle too. Fulfilling smaller promises, like the cliffhanger endings, shows that the bigger promise (the ending) will also be fulfilled. If those promises are left hanging, you start wondering what you’re hanging around for.
And what about that ending? Have you ever gotten to the end of a book and said, “What? That’s it?” I know you have. I’ve been known to throw a book across the room, or at least to the floor. (Though these days I’m trying to break the habit since e-readers are more delicate than paperbacks.) For one reason or another, the paycheck wasn’t enough.
When I finished the first draft of my book Keystone, my beta readers gave me the same complaint in surround sound. There was a certain conflict I didn’t resolve in the framework of book one. They wanted that promise fulfilled now! So I did. I went back and added an entire component to the ending and I even played in another little twist that will have ramifications later. The result was a more satisfying ending and happy readers – always the most important part. Happy readers are my payoff.
Readers pick up a book for the implicit promise of a payoff. It’s the paycheck at the end of that 900 page fantasy epic, the whodunit at the end of the mystery, the culmination of the romantic relationship, the answer to the question, “What happens now?” The medal ceremony at the end of Star Wars, Neo in command of his abilities at the end of The Matrix, and mumblemumble*spoilers* in the Hunger Games.
Without a payoff at the end, the book is seeing airtime. Without smaller payoffs in the middle, the book is set down and forgotten. I think that might be worse.
Let’s face it, even if you adore what you do and can’t wait to bounce out of bed in the morning to go do it, what separates a job from a hobby is that little thing that comes in periodically as a tangible representation of the worth of your work: a paycheck.
If it came in at half what you expected, you would be pretty hopping mad. You would feel cheated. On the other hand, if it turned out to be twice as much as expected, boy, can we say glee? I don’t know about you, but I’d be doing some dancing.
I recently got hooked on a Korean historical drama (bear with me) and it does a fabulous job with cliffhanger endings for each episode. In the last few moments, there is always a dramatic twist or a face we haven’t seen in a while that promises trouble for our heroine, or the villain reveals a new dastardly scheme…. But. After the first few episodes, those little dramatic hints and implied promises didn’t really go anywhere. Schemes fizzled, faces disappeared again or weren’t recognized. It started getting boring. There was no payoff.
Then finally after twenty episodes, the carefully stacked house of cards has its entire foundation whipped out from under it, reducing our heroine to a wailing wreck, questioning her entire life’s purpose. Now we’re getting somewhere!
How many people are willing to wait twenty episodes (adding up to more than twenty hours, because those suckers are long!) for a plot to move forward?
Granted, the biggest payoff should be the ending or anything else will seem anticlimactic. But there should be movement in the middle too. Fulfilling smaller promises, like the cliffhanger endings, shows that the bigger promise (the ending) will also be fulfilled. If those promises are left hanging, you start wondering what you’re hanging around for.
And what about that ending? Have you ever gotten to the end of a book and said, “What? That’s it?” I know you have. I’ve been known to throw a book across the room, or at least to the floor. (Though these days I’m trying to break the habit since e-readers are more delicate than paperbacks.) For one reason or another, the paycheck wasn’t enough.
When I finished the first draft of my book Keystone, my beta readers gave me the same complaint in surround sound. There was a certain conflict I didn’t resolve in the framework of book one. They wanted that promise fulfilled now! So I did. I went back and added an entire component to the ending and I even played in another little twist that will have ramifications later. The result was a more satisfying ending and happy readers – always the most important part. Happy readers are my payoff.
Readers pick up a book for the implicit promise of a payoff. It’s the paycheck at the end of that 900 page fantasy epic, the whodunit at the end of the mystery, the culmination of the romantic relationship, the answer to the question, “What happens now?” The medal ceremony at the end of Star Wars, Neo in command of his abilities at the end of The Matrix, and mumblemumble*spoilers* in the Hunger Games.
Without a payoff at the end, the book is seeing airtime. Without smaller payoffs in the middle, the book is set down and forgotten. I think that might be worse.
