And by vital I mean life-giving as well as essential. Your through-line is the great big question you ask at the beginning of your story, the one that keeps your reader hooked through every page.
WHAT IS YOUR BOOK ABOUT?
You could answer ‘about 30,000 words so far’. Many people say their book is about one of the big abstract issues like war, heroism, exile, true love or that mixed blessing we call family. Those are themes. Most good books have at least one theme though they’re not essential. So, a theme is an issue you would like your readers to think about, after they’ve closed your book and are going on with their lives.
Your through-line is the big plot question you ask at the beginning of your story, the one that keeps your reader hooked until it’s answered, one way or another, close to the last page. It is not about the meaning of heroism in general, it is about the heroic survival of a particular character your readers care about. Through-lines are about what you want your readers to feel.
Your theme is:
- an abstract question
- appealing to the intellect,
- affecting as many of your characters as you like,
- that you need not answer – let readers make up their own minds,
- is not necessarily something that will be attainable or resolved by the story’s end and
- more than one theme is fine though, if you have more, they should link in some way.
Your through-line is:
- a specific question about a particular need. Will Jill get a pony? Will Carrie marry Big? Will Sherlock find the killer? Will Black Beauty survive?
- It’s an emotional question of high stakes
- about a particular person, preferably your main character(s). A thousand pages of statistics teach us about rough sleeping but in Stuart: A Life Backwards (below) it’s Stuart’s own life story that gives it emotional urgency.
- Your through-line question should be humanly attainable (achieving world peace goes in the ‘theme’ section) and
- it must be attained or answered in the story. The answer doesn’t have to be yes but there should be a sense of resolution at the end.
An example of a through-line
A fine example of a powerful through-line is in Stuart: A Life Backwards. This excellent book came about when its author Alexander Masters worked in a facility for homeless people in Cambridge and met a rough sleeper called Stuart. They became friends and decided to write Stuart’s life story. Alexander’s first draft was painstaking but, by his own admission, dull. Stuart didn’t like it either and came up with a stunning through-line and structure.
Write it backwards, Stuart said, starting in the present and going back in time to his childhood. Write it like a Tom Clancy thriller, he suggested too, and next is where his marvellous through-line comes in. Readers should ask, he said, who stole Stuart’s innocence. Who ‘killed’ the boy he was.
Who stole Stuart’s innocence? Who stole his life, in other words, and when the answer comes, everything hilariously aggravating about Stuart (and there’s plenty) is instantly understood and the reader’s heart is broken. Stuart died between the finishing of the book and its publication: he didn’t survive to see Alexander awarded the Guardian First Book prize for their work.
Who stole Stuart’s innocence? Will Joey the Warhorse survive the Western Front and come home to the boy who trained him? Will Anna Karenina survive? Will the community of Watership Down rabbits ever manage to settle safely again? Will the boys in Lord of the Flies ever be rescued?
EXERCISE – 10 MINUTES
Choose one of your favourite stories? Give yourself ten minutes to define and write about its through-line. This is not always as easy as it sounds. In the film Titanic, for example, we know that Rose survives for decades after the wreck. The film’s through-line is how she survives.
Your favourite story will have sub-plots – do they have through-lines too? Are they different from the main one? Are they linked to it and to each other? Do the characters have their own personal through-lines? How do they all connect?
EXERCISE – 10 MINUTES
Let’s think now about the story you are writing. Please don’t be discouraged if this exercise turns out to be tricky. At first draft stage, it’s not at all unusual to have through-lines that spread like deltas – in fact, that’s often why people lose heart and give up. Thinking about your through-line at any stage can help keep you on track.
See if you can sum up your through-line in 20 to 30 words. It may well feel impossible but keep trying. You might find yourself coming up with three or four through-lines. Don’t worry, your story is work in progress.
Exciting as your several through-lines might be, it’s important to keep scribbling around them until one edges forward as the most urgent. Some classic novels have more than one but if you’re working on your first novel, try to keep things simple and clear. The clearer your through-line, the stronger and more saleable your story will be.
Your through-line is precious. It’s your story’s backbone, its engine, the thread that holds your story’s beads together, and it should appear somehow in every chapter. Occasionally readers will forgive a little tangent but keep it brief. (By Book 4 of A Game of Thrones, George RR Martin had so many of us readers by the heart that we kept reading as if it was an endurance test, but our favourite characters and their through-lines were missing from that fourth book and, to be honest, he lost a lot of us.)
Once you’re confident of your through-line, congratulate yourself. You now have what is known as your ‘elevator pitch’ for those precious ten seconds when somebody introduces you to an agent or publisher and you’re asked what your novel-in-progress is about.
Crucially for your story, once you know your through-line, you are equipped to destabilise it in every stage of your story, nudging up your stakes as you go, until you reach your destination. As Wilkie Collins said, make them laugh, make them cry and, above all, make them wait.
A QUICK WORD ABOUT STAKES
What lowers your stakes? Anything that makes a reader put down the book and forget to pick it up again. This list comes from my Cambridge writing group – please feel free to add your own:
- Diverting the story into something else (away from your through-line),
- Too much leaden description,
- Telling us what we know already or can guess,
- Spelling out every damn thing,
- Being predictable, or too unpredictable,
- Unsympathetic or boring characters,
- Showing off research and
FINAL EXERCISE – 10 – 15 minutes to start with
For practice, let’s imagine a static scene where one of your characters is sitting in a traffic jam, pauses lost in thought while they’re up to their wrists in washing up water, or takes time out to look at the sky.
First, let’s discover how your character (X) is feeling at the beginning of the scene. Start with a brief scribble-chat together:
- What can X see, hear, taste, smell and touch?
- Is X hot or cold, comfortable or not, in tight clothing or loose, in a familiar place or a strange one?
- What is X’s mood: stressed or calm, low or excited, fearful etc.?
- How does X feel about what’s just been happening ? For example, has X just left an exam or job interview and is worried about the outcome?
- What does X want most in all the world?
You should have X’s voice flowing nicely in your imagination now as they lead you through their senses, surroundings, mood, context and agenda.
Now, and this is the crux of the exercise, find a way to bring X’s thoughts around to your through-line, if you haven’t already. As you keep writing, see if you can let your character raise your novel’s stakes to greater urgency with a lightning jolt.
Even a static scene can be full of activity. In fact, the contrast in pace can work to your advantage and produce an unforgettable chapter. As long as you bring your stakes and character together with your through-line, all will be well.
4 thoughts on “Through-line – the single most vital trick in writing a novel”
I know what you mean of course, but it might be interesting to do world peace as throughline. I remember years ago reading a story about a society where the important decisions were made by an artificial intelligence. More recently it struck me that the AI doesn’t have to be perfect. Imagine that an inventor has come up with an AI that mediates and judges human disputes. Occasionally it gets it wrong, but the crucial thing is that it’s just mechanical. Anyone who is interested can look at the AI, see how it works, and see that it is free of bias.
If people agree to submit their disputes to this system, they know that it is fallible but honest, unlike human judges who are fallible but sometimes corrupt. So the AI starts to build its empire, as more people see the advantages, but what happens then? Is the result an eternal paradise of incorruptible government? Does the empire grow voluntarily to a certain size, and then use unreasonable force against the hold-outs? Do people manage to subvert the AI’s rules?
Sounds great, go for it! I’m all for pushing boundaries and you sound as if you’re ready to write this. All the best, R
Ah, no, it’s not really a complete idea. I don’t know what characters would go in it, apart from the AI. Writing the AI would be quite fun, though. Would it be cynical, superior, or has it been created in such a way that it’s always incredibly eager to help people?
It sounds like one of those ideas that’s determined to grow for you. All the very best with it, R