Beat sheets are amazing tools that can guide you to write a great story, but unfortunately, they also have their pitfalls. For those unfamiliar with the term, a beat sheet is like a story template, and it can help you brainstorm and/or map out a sturdy structure for your story--generally speaking, anyway. Some of the most famous beat sheets are Save the Cat!, The Hero's Journey, and 7 Point Story Structure (depending on the version you are using). There are also beat sheets for writing romance (Romancing the Beat by Gwen Hayes has a great one).
These guides walk you through the beats--the moments that move the story forward--so that you can use them to shape your own more-likely-to-be-successful story.
Though, I must admit, the term "beat" is a bit of an ambiguous one in the writing community, as it gets used both for parts of the whole narrative arc, and for tiny parts that exist in scenes, and people define the term in different ways (which isn't very helpful when you are learning). Some people argue beats are plot points, others say they are shifts in emotions or tone. And sometimes in a screenplay, the word is used to denote a pause. So yes, another ambiguous writing term to add to the list. But anyway . . .
Beat sheets can also be useful when learning about story structure, what happens when and how (and sometimes, why).
And some people are rather religious about beat sheets in the writing community. There are many people who will speak as if every story needs to follow this specific beat sheet, and they will try to fit every story that's been successful into that beat sheet.
While many successful stories will--actually--fit multiple beat sheets, not all of them will fit a popular beat sheet.
Beat sheets are super helpful, but I also feel like they have damned a lot of stories, writers, and to some degree, even the writing community itself.
And this isn't even a post about how "all stories are different and beat sheets don't really matter!" which is also another mentality I sometimes run into, usually from newer writers, and I feel like it often glamorizes ignorance. I mean, it's totally possible to write a great story without a beat sheet, but to stick your nose up at them and argue they don't matter is ignorant to me. (But certainly writers are welcome to do whatever they want--I'm not here to police you!)
The real problems that come from beat sheets aren't the beat sheets themselves, but the common misconception that beat sheets are the "bones" of story structure.
They're not.
They are actually the flesh you add to the bones.
. . . Which is one of the reasons why we cover beat sheets at the very end, not the beginning, of my writing course.
. . . Because they are useful in helping you see how you can add flesh to your story structure "skeleton," but they are not the skeleton itself.
True story structure lies underneath them.
This is why you can find stories that don't follow Save the Cat! or the Hero's Journey, or whatever, and they still really work!
If you start with the "flesh" and never learn to see the "bones" underneath, you are unknowingly putting a ceiling on your stories and yourself as a writer.
And using a specific beat sheet for the wrong type of story can introduce new problems.
I can give an example.
Most beat sheets guide you to write a positive change-arc protagonist, but that is only one type of character arc. If you are writing a negative-arcing character, or a positive steadfast character, you are going to run into problems when following Save the Cat! or the Hero's Journey, or even 7 Point Story Structure (depending on what version you are using). You're going to get confused at certain parts, because the beat doesn't seem to work right for your story. If the negative-arcing character doesn't overcome a flaw, then what are we supposed to put in those moments that say the protagonist does? Or if the positive steadfast character doesn't have a flaw to overcome at all, then you may wonder, what belongs in "The Ordeal" beat?
This can lead to a lot of confusion and stumbling blocks.
And if you think your story must follow the beat sheet, you may not be able to find your way to success.
Similarly, a lot of romance beat sheets say you need to hit a "breakup" at the end of the middle. While that is often a fantastic idea, and an idea that works well, it's actually not a requirement. You can write a satisfying story by putting the breakup smack dab in the middle (at the midpoint).
Also, many beat sheets tell you that you should hit the inciting incident at about 12% in, but plenty of stories hit it right in the first chapter (The Hunger Games being one of the most famous).
To add to all the confusion, there are many people in the writing community who are trying to run every successful story through a beat sheet, and because they don't understand there is a "skeleton" underneath, they are arguably labeling the beats wrong in the story (imho anyway).
So . . .
Let's talk about what the "skeleton" of plot structure actually is.
First, you need the correct bones.
The vital bones of plot are goals, antagonists, conflicts, consequences . . . and then turning points.
Of those . . . arguably goals and turning points are the most important elements, as I talked about in a recent post. You need to have goals in place; and the turning points (also known as "plot points" and "plot turns") will somehow shift the goals and/or the plan to get those goals.
(This is for writing plot, mind you. It's possible to write a "story" that doesn't really have much of a plot.)
There are other plot "bones," but the elements I listed are the most critical.
To me, structure is different from plot. Structure is about organizing, arranging, and timing.
Structure is about arranging the bones into a proper skeleton.
And this is one of the problems with starting with beat sheets (imho)--they don't teach you there is a difference between plot and structure. They are usually taught lumped and tangled together, so then it's a little more difficult to actually see what is going on. Because you can't discern the individual parts.
Once you have your bones, you can create this basic story shape: Rising action (where the character in pursuit of a goal, encounters an antagonist, which creates conflict). The climax (which is a turning point). And falling action (where the consequences take effect, and tension and conflict dissipate, to some degree).
This is basic story structure.
And it's a fractal.
Each act follows this structure.
Most commonly, stories are made up of three acts, with the second act being the longest (usually about 50%). Because it is so long, it's common to split this into two parts, and each has a turning point (also known as a plot point or a plot turn).
This gives us four major peaks (or turning points) for the story.
Now, looking at this, we could technically argue this is four acts, because there are four repeating shapes, but to keep with the language that is most popular, I call the middle parts Act II, Part I, Act II, Part II.
These peaks are the major plot turns of the story.
This is the basic structural skeleton of the story.
Now, there are commonly medium-sized turns between each of these major peaks.
I call these Turn A, Turn B, Turn C, and Turn D.
These are also plot turns, but they (usually) aren't as big.
They are usually used to get the story on track to hit the next major peak (which is why I drew them like this).
These add some "joints" to this skeleton.
This is the true skeleton of plot structure.
Typically. I say "typically," because technically you can make other skeleton shapes, but this is the most common, especially for successful stories.
This is not a beat sheet.
These are the foundational pieces of plot, organized by structure.
The beat sheets are the flesh.
In reality, you can flesh out these skeletons in a lot of different ways.
Commonly, the inciting incident will be Turn A.
But it technically doesn't have to be.
It can be at the start of the story as a hook.
The third peak is commonly a major loss for the protagonist.
But it technically doesn't have to be.
It can be a major victory . . . or a "hollow victory."
The point is that there is a plot turn at these parts, and that the proper plot elements are in play.
Plot turns can show up as a lot of different things when fleshed out. A big reveal, a key event, a surprising twist, a major success, a crushing defeat, a swap in plans, or a change in goals.
Beat sheets guide you on how to fill this skeleton in.
Save the Cat! wants you to put the inciting incident (which is called the "Catalyst" in that approach) at Turn A. It wants you to make the second major peak (the midpoint) a big success, and the third major peak a loss ("All is Lost"), followed by a significant falling action ("Dark Night of the Soul"). It encourages you to write a positive change-arc story.
(Although Blake Snyder, the creator, does say you can adapt this beat sheet, this is what the original beat sheet guides you to create.)
The Hero's Journey is actually very similar, but it uses different names, and offers a slightly different perspective. While it's traditionally drawn as a circle, the approach still follows this shape, believe it or not. The area that is maybe debatable, is that it doesn't really talk about the second peak, which is commonly called the midpoint.
In any case, these turns often get called different things, depending on what approach you use.
But usually the beat sheets are just putting flesh on this same skeleton.
Gwen Hayes has an excellent romance beat sheet. It fleshes these peaks for a relationship plotline like this:
And while this is the most common approach, you could technically put a breakup at the midpoint instead of at that third peak.
But in order to successfully make changes like that, you typically need to understand that the beat sheet isn't the skeleton--it's just the flesh you put on the skeleton. You still need those four peaks.
But you can flesh that skeleton out in all different kinds of ways.
You also don't even technically always need a "Refusal of the Call," like the Hero's Journey says (Finding Nemo doesn't have one). If you know what you are doing with plot and structure, and what the true purpose of that beat is (to impress upon the audience the potential consequence (a.k.a. stakes) of the main plot), you can write a great story that doesn't have the protagonist Refusing the Call.
Similarly, Save the Cat! wants you to write a moment in Act I, where someone states the theme ("Theme Stated") to the protagonist. While that's useful and effective, you actually don't have to do that. The purpose of that moment is to introduce the thematic argument of the story, but you can do that in a bunch of different ways. It doesn't have to show up as someone saying it to the protagonist. It could show up as the protagonist saying it to someone else. In fact, it doesn't even need to be put in dialogue. It could show up as an action. It could also be demonstrated by two strangers the protagonist passes on the street.
But if you follow The Hero's Journey or Save the Cat! religiously, you will always have the "Refusal of the Call" beat and the "Theme Stated" in dialogue to the protagonist.
That's not a problem in and of itself.
Yet my point is that when you treat beat sheets like a religion, like they are the skeleton of story itself, it limits the types of stories you write. And if most people do that, it limits the types of stories the writing world produces.
And when some people read this, they react by wanting to throw away all beat sheets and by portraying ignorance as wisdom. They sometimes act as if they are better than others, because they have disrespected beat sheets. Typically such people rarely see the bones and skeleton at all, and are often flying blind. If they are naturals, they can maybe make it work (which is great for them!), but because they don't understand exactly what they are doing right and how things work, they can't easily create something new or different that works just as well. This can become a "ceiling" to their potential.
. . . just as being religious about beat sheets can put a "ceiling" on your potential.
But I don't want to put a ceiling on your potential.
And I don't want to put a ceiling on my potential.
I want us to understand the bones, and how to use them to create satisfying skeletons, that we can then flesh out in various satisfying ways. I want us to understand why these beat sheets often work, and when they fall short. I want us to understand how they can limit you, in addition to understanding how they can help you.
Unfortunately, that is much more than I can explain in this post! But I have this blog, which can help, and my writing course, which can help (though it's not open to registration at the moment).
But for now, my main point in writing all this, is to say, beat sheets aren't the skeleton of story. They are the flesh. So while we should learn about and from them, we should also be cautious of their shortcomings and not treat them as religions. They can absolutely help you shape an amazing story! They are wonderful tools. But they can also limit you to the same type of story, or, even introduce problems into the story you are writing, if you don't understand their weaknesses.
That's pretty much what I'm trying to say.
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