I’m working on a series on pacing. You can see other posts in the series here.
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Now that we’ve looked at words, sentences, dialogue, and paragraphs…let’s look at plot.
Plot has pacing, just like everything else in writing. The number and type of events in a plot add another layer to the pacing, beyond words, sentences, paragraphs, chapters, and scenes.
George R.R. Martin’s A Song of Ice and Fire series (a.k.a. Game of Thrones) has multiple characters and plot lines in every book. Some of the characters have an arc throughout the book; some of them have arcs that span across books. Some of the POVs don’t last very long; their arcs are interrupted and end in death.
“The Cask of Amontillado” has one POV character, no more than a handful of words of backstory, simple characterizations, and few, if any, of the usual structures that you’d find in a Joseph Campbell plot. It’s under 3,000 words.
Here’s the plot:
- SETUP:
- My friend finally crossed the line, and I determined to have my revenge.
- I never responded to his insults; he didn’t realize that my emotions had turned.
- He was a genuine conoisseur of wine.
- HERE’S HOW IT WENT DOWN:
- I met my friend at Carnivale while he was drunk.
- And told him that I had some exotic damn wine that only he could really be entrusted to drink.
- His greed got the better of him, despite his cold.
- Greed and buffoonery drove him forward. I tried to make him go back, see?
- Forgive me my little jokes, hints to my victim as to what was to come. It amused me.
- He just stood there while I locked him up.
- THE CLIMAX:
- Even after I locked him up, I asked him one last time if he wanted to leave.
- No, no, he wouldn’t have it; he’d rather have the Amontillado.
- I started bricking him up.
- Then he started to sober up. First he was silent. Then he tried to escape. Could not the man apologize for what he had done?
- I continued. He screamed, either at me or for help. I was frightened, and may have poked around a bit with my rapier.
- He kept shouting; I tested the wall, and it was secure all right. I started yelling back.
- With one stone left, he tried to convince me that it was all a joke.
- I never joke.
- He demanded that I free him for the love of God.
- He never once apologized, I’ll have you know.
- THE WRAPUP:
- I finished walling him up. I felt kind of bad, but here I am, fifty years later, a free man. RIP, my friend.
No try/fail cycles, no twists and turns, no real wordcount.
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