I hi-Jacked
this article by Les Edgerton – believe me – it’s worth reading! Rita
The Inciting Incident as a Trigger
The inciting incident is the crucial event—the trouble—that sets
the whole story in motion. It triggers the initial surface problem and starts
to slowly expose the protagonist’s story-worthy problem. Now, the protagonist
won’t fully realize the extent of his story-worthy problem in the opening
scene, so the initial surface problem has to be so compelling that it forces
him to take immediate action. The protagonist’s understanding of his
story-worthy problem, then, will grow clearer to him as a direct result of what
he goes through in his journey to resolve it.
Also keep in mind that each of the protagonist’s attempts to
resolve the initial and subsequent surface problems must end in failure. There
can be partial victories, but once an action ends in success, the story is
effectively over. Success, in this case, means that all the problems are
resolved. That cannot happen until the final scene of the story.
So, if we were to broadly outline the shape of a publishable
story—the inciting incident and all its intertwined surface and story-worthy
problems—it would look something like this:
·
The inciting incident
creates the character’s initial surface problem and introduces the first
inklings of the story-worthy problem.
·
The protagonist takes
steps to resolve the initial surface problem.
·
The outcome of the
major action the protagonist takes to resolve the initial surface problem is
revealed, triggering a new surface problem. The scope of the protagonist’s
story-worthy problem continues to unfold.
·
The outcome of the
major action the protagonist takes to resolve the additional surface problem is
revealed, and yet another surface problem is created. The story-worthy problem
continues to become more apparent to the protagonist, as well as to the reader.
·
Another outcome is
revealed, and more surface problems are created. The story-worthy problem
continues to become clearer.
·
All lingering surface
problems are resolved, and the story-worthy problem is fully realized. The
resolution of the story-worthy problem is represented by both a win and a loss
for the protagonist.
Notice that this isn’t a point-by-point outline of a plot. Also,
it isn’t like an essay outline, in which you provide the nature of the actions
to be taken (that “topic sentence” thing), but rather, the outcome of those
actions. Further, take note of the fact that this kind of outline provides only
for the major actions (of which there are usually three) the protagonist will
take to resolve the problem. That leaves room for dozens (hundreds?) of other,
smaller actions he can take to achieve his goal. This outline also leaves
plenty of leeway for you, as the author, to choose what actions your
protagonist will take, thus allowing you the artistic freedom to get the
protagonist to the outcome any way the author wants to. In short, it provides a
roadmap of highways for the narrative car, but it doesn’t include the scenic
routes.
An example of an inciting incident that kick-starts a novel is
the one Scott Smith provided in his best-selling novel A Simple Plan,
which was made into a film of the same name.
The story begins with a bit of necessary setup, giving a scrap
of family history. The backstory is that the two chief characters in the
story—Hank, the first-person narrator/protagonist, and his brother/antagonist,
Jacob—never have anything to do with each other except once a year, when they
visit their parents’ graves together. The backstory also describes their
parents’ death in a car accident that was really a joint suicide. In this case,
the backstory is crucial because it gives a plausible reason for Hank and Jacob
to be together when the inciting incident occurs. It also works because it
shows the reader the brothers’ relationship to each other, and that
relationship is Hank’s story-worthy problem. This is a Cain-and-Abel story, and
therefore the brothers’ history is important to the reader’s understanding of
what’s about to transpire. The entire history takes a little less than three
pages to detail before the narrative enters the inciting incident scene. Jacob,
accompanied by his dog, Mary Beth, and by their friend Lou, picks up Hank for
their annual pilgrimage. During the trip to the gravesite, a fox runs across
the icy road. Jacob has a slight accident, and Mary Beth takes off after the
fox. The three men go after the dog and discover a plane downed in a field. In
the plane, they discover a dead pilot and a bag filled with three million
dollars, and they figure out it’s probably drug money.
The initial surface problem begins with this discovery. Hank,
the straight-arrow brother with the pregnant wife, college degree, and
professional job, wants to do the right thing and turn in the money, but Jacob,
who’s a ne’er-do-well, high school dropout alcoholic, and Lou talk him out of
it. Against his better judgment, Hank accedes, and the brothers plunge into a
spiral of darkness until they get to the place where Hank kills his brother.
Finding the money and the decision that the discovery forces
Hank to make is the inciting incident, and it is delivered via a scene so that
the reader experiences what Hank does, at the same time he does it; the reader
experiences the same dilemma he does, emotionally. Hank’s surface problem is
how to please his brother by keeping the money, while assuaging his conscience
at the same time. Plus, he needs to avoid discovery of their crime and keep
from going to jail and ruining his life. His story-worthy problem—his lifelong
guilt over his good fortune in life and his brother’s wasted existence—(which
is tied directly to the surface problem) has been forced to the surface by
their parents’ deaths, which is why the brief backstory at the start of this
story works.
The protagonist’s action in agreeing to split up the money
instead of turning it in—an action he takes in order to gain his brother’s
love—is a flawed action, just as was Thelma’s in agreeing with Louise to not
turn themselves in after Louise kills Harlan. In each of these two stories,
both instances of well-meant-but-flawed actions by the protagonist are
responsible for the surface problem and are similar in nature. And, in both
instances, the surface problem exists to serve as the vehicle that drives the
story-worthy problem along the journey.
For
more techniques on hooking your reader from the very first page, check out Hooked by Les Edgerton. You’ll find tips for
avoiding the overuse of backstory, a rundown on basics like o
pening scene
length and transitions, and a comprehensive analysis of more than twenty great
opening lines from novels and short stories.
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