The Three-Act Structure, with Dinosaurs

In my last blog (“Plotter vs Pantser”) I looked at some of the ways writers might (or might not!) plot out story beats for their novel.

Since two of the three versions I mention include some type of outline, how about exploring one of the popular, and certainly most ancient (the idea goes back at least to Aristotle!) versions: the Three-Act Structure?

On an unconscious level, you already know this one. You recognize it when you watch a movie or when you read a book. But maybe you haven’t put it into conscious words.

Usually it goes something like this:

Act One:

The beginning has to do a few important things.

It sets up your main characters, gives us a glimpse into who they are and maybe what their regular life looks like.

But then: the THING HAPPENS. Call it the Inciting Incident, the Catalyst, the Call to Adventure, or just the push out of the comfort zone. Something kicks off the story.

Which leads to the character deciding to engage- even if it’s reluctantly. What’s important here is that your reader is hooked by the character and their decisions.

Example: In Jurassic Park your hook is pretty easy. Dinosaurs and people. Of course you want to see that movie. We meet Alan Grant and Ellie Sattler on a dig and know their daily life is dirt, dust, and hard work.

In comes John Hammond with a hook of his own: a tropical island getaway for a weekend and a lot of money for a “wee testimonial” about his park. What could go wrong?

The big Plot Point One comes as the characters see their first dinosaur and the awe of the moment overwhelms everyone.

Act Two:

The longest part, and often the part that drags because people find it the hardest to write successfully, pacing-wise.

Here our main characters face challenges (both internal and external) and have to adapt to meet those challenges. Here’s where subplots come in, characters have their moments of self-discovery, and- most importantly- you keep raising the stakes, both on a personal and external level, depending on the conflict.

Right in the middle something goes terribly wrong for your characters. Usually that connects to whatever the character’s main goal is.

Now they have to take stock, maybe reevaluate the plan and their goals. 

Example: Things build as Jurassic Park’s characters debate the wisdom and ethics of bringing back dinosaurs (“God creates dinosaurs. God destroys dinosaurs. God creates man. Man destroys God. Man creates dinosaurs.” “Dinosaurs eat man. Woman inherits the earth.”)

A storm and a scheming Nedry shut down the power to get us to the mid-point: T-Rex comes out of her paddock and we are now all quite sure why it was a bad idea to do this.

Grant gets to grow his character arc from someone who preferred not being around people (especially children) to helping Hammond’s grandchildren get to (relative) safety.

Act Three:

The famous “all is lost” or “dark night of the soul” moment when your character is at their absolute lowest.

Maybe they are betrayed by someone they trusted, maybe they have lost total confidence in themselves, they think the enemy is too strong, they question everything they knew or wanted, etc.

This plot beat can last longer than the actual climax itself.

By the finale (or ‘denouement’ if you want to be fancy) you should have tied up all the loose plot points, concluded the overarching conflicts and goals from way back at the beginning of the story, and wrapped things up for your reader.

Example: In Jurassic Park you could argue the “all is lost” moment comes when everyone realizes Nedry isn’t coming back (of course, we know he’s been eaten) and Mr. Arnold (yay Samuel L. Jackson!) has to make the decision to shut down the power and reboot everything.

Stakes get raised after that: the raptors are out, more people get eaten, it’s a race for survival and getting off the island.

In the climax the people are saved (accidentally) by T-Rex in a nature vs nature showdown, where the animals are more about who’s on top of the food chain and less about the humans. By this time everyone (including the humans), knows where they rank on the food chain.

Of course, as the sequels show, some humans take longer to learn this lesson than others. But not the point here.

So, there you have it, the three-act structure, with dinosaurs. Of course, this is just one of the many ways to think about a story.

Try seeing if you can notice the basic three-act structure in whatever book you’re reading right now, or the next movie you watch.