I’m currently reading two contemporary novels and one early 20th century novel that have gotten me thinking about stakes and plot.
Plot is easier to describe to writers, and to readers: exposition, rising action, climax, falling action and the resolution. A scene is set; a problem is introduced; the problem is addressed dramatically; this address has consequences that cause more action; the problems are resolved (very roughly.)
Stakes are “what’s on the line”: if your character doesn’t get something, what’s on the line for them? If I don’t win the lottery today, ok, whatever, I have a job, nothing changes. If I don’t win the lottery today and I have 1 hour to come up with the money to release my pet hamster from hostage, that’s stakes. The reader doesn’t care about what happens to me next in the first scenario, but the reader cares a lot about what happens to me (and the hamster) in the second.
I’m reading Edith Wharton’s The House of Mirth for a bookclub with friends; the book has a plot, and it has stakes. I’ve got a quarter of the book left to read and Lily Bart, pretty and charming but kind of dumb, is essentially homeless, in debt up to her eyeballs, and being used as a pawn in several other people’s own personal life plots. Will she get herself out of this pickle?? I doubt it, it’s a social satire and novel of manners. But I am engaged enough by the plot and the stakes to keep reading and see what happens.
There is a kind of contemporary novel that has stakes but, arguably, no real plot. To borrow a term from the kids, these books are mostly just vibes. There is often a premise: a reason we are meeting all of these characters at this time in particular. But the chapters read like little vignettes or sketches, scenes with great descriptions that deepen our understanding of the characters and make us think, and these chapters give the books stakes (a reason to care enough about each character and how they might all fit together to keep going) but if I were to describe to you the plots of these two novels they’re essentially… a group of people connected by X are living their lives. They don’t really have plots in terms of actions moving the narrative forward.
I’m enjoying both of these books, I feel immersed when I’m reading and the worlds constructed are full and interesting. But when I put the books down I can’t really describe what I think is going to happen next. It makes it harder to pick them back up.
I do often see lesser versions of these types of vignette-vibes books in my query inbox: an interesting setup, nice little sketches, at the end you’re left with a feeling and a glimpse into a world but nothing has Happened. In lesser versions, the setup can feel overly contrived or reliant on external forces; but most often, the problem is that the sketches are just doodles. These vignette-y chapters have to be sooo good if you’re going to deny the reader a plot for them. I will have to want to underline every sentence or end every chapter with a better understanding of life itself.
The bar is higher. Sometimes I think, couldn’t the writer have put this lyric mastery and these compelling characters into a plot and see what happens?
I love this observation and have been thinking incessantly about conflict, tension and stakes (and by extension, plot), mostly because those seems to be the things that truly trip up newer writers (my early work is plagued by the absence of stakes omg!!!) But it also doesn't seem to be a massive focus in workshops and MFA programs? In my MFA we had a lesson on dialogue, talked a bit about plot, but I can't recall ever talking about stakes (or tension, or meaningful conflict). I took an absolutely amazing webinar on tension, conflict and stakes with literary agent CeCe Lyra and it completely changed my understanding of what story DOES. I love literary fiction, it's the bulk of what I read and write, but my favorite works are the ones that keep that sparkling prose and depth of thought/feeling/observation BUT with high stakes (or at least stakes that FEEL high to the protagonist. I think in this regard, (some) literary writers can really learn from the commercial writer's sensibility. (I ALSO started reading House of Mirth a few months ago and Lily Bart was totally stressing me out!!). Anyway, thanks for this post!