by C. S. Lakin
Another definition of a pinch point is the place where a road narrows. A driver might be cruising along, when suddenly she is pinched—hemmed in on all sides, with no place to pull over. Stopping would be dangerous, and turning around to go back is unthinkable.
The pinch point is all about revealing the force of the opposition. An opposition that eventually, in the story, narrows the means of escape, forces the hero to make hard choices, to take a stand, or to press pedal to the metal and surge to the goal. Or all three.
Whether it’s a singular opponent or nemesis; or a natural force, such as a tornado; or an entity or group, such as the legal system or Congress, the pinch point brings to the forefront the opposition.
This helps show how high the stakes are.
Pinch points can also focus on the emotional change in the character as he reacts to the new situational development that occurs at these pinch points. Often the protagonist is unaware of what the opposition is doing, but as a result of the events taking place in these pinch points, consequences follow, ones that directly impact him.
Though the first pinch point falls between the quarter mark and the Midpoint, it doesn’t necessarily imply you can’t show your antagonist earlier in the story, or that this moment is meant to bring full attention on him (or it).
First Pinch Point Examples
Here are some examples of the first pinch point in movies you may be familiar with:
The Hunger Games: Katniss enters the game and is attacked, flees, and discovers Peeta has abandoned her and joined a group of killers.
The Help: Miss Hilly announces over coffee that she’s going to publish her “Home Help Sanitation Initiative” in the local newspaper.
Raiders of the Lost Ark: Indy thinks Marion is dead. He confronts Balloq and threatens to kill him. Stakes go higher.
The Empire Strikes Back: The emperor tells Darth Vader to hunt down Luke Skywalker.
Alien: The alien detaches from Kane’s face and hides in the ship where the crew can’t find it.
Top Gun: Right after Maverick screws up big-time on a practice flight, Iceman confronts him in the locker room, pointing out how he’s risking lives.
The Bourne Identity: Bourne tracks down the last Treadstone operative, Jarda, who alerts the CIA to Bourne’s presence. They fight and Bourne kills Jarda—his first kill in two years—and it shakes Bourne up.
Ever After: Danielle (the Cinderella character) is propositioned by Monsieur LePieu, setting up what is to come at the climax. In addition, Danielle’s nasty stepsister Marguerite gets Henry’s attention at the tennis match and then almost exposes Danielle as her servant (two pinch points in succession).
Taken: Bryan (father) finds a picture of the Parisian young man who lured his daughter and her best friend into the trap. He attacks the man, demands answers, then chases him down the highway, where the man he must get information from dies in an accident.
The Martian: Mark Watney, alone on Mars, finally communicates with NASA, but his HAB blows up, destroying his food source, making his survival dubious. Mars—not any person—is his nemesis, and Mark is sorely “pinched” when Mars strikes him hard.
The Protagonist’s Reaction
This first pinch point is pointing to the main confrontations of your story. It’s beginning to show the immensity of the challenge for your protagonist. And often that reveals a big flaw in your protagonist.
Don’t miss that.
Think of the pinch point (or the protagonist’s reaction to the pinch point) as an opportunity to reveal a potentially fatal flaw in your hero.
Think about that moment in Top Gun. Maverick, after being confronted, realizes his serious flaws. If he doesn’t deal with them, they could cause disaster. This awareness pushes him to that Midpoint scene.
The result of this new development in your story is centered on the protagonist. Because now he has to do something about this new development, once he learns about it. At this point in your story, he has new information, and that moves him to new action.
In my historical Western Colorado Dream, I created a scene in the opposition’s POV. My hero inadvertently hurt this rancher’s only son, and the young man is now paralyzed. Enraged, Orlander waits for yet another doctor to finish examining his son. When the doctor comes out of the room and confirms there is no hope for recovery, the rancher decides to get revenge by sending his ranch hands after my hero.
Because I used my Ten Key Scene Chart, I knew I not only needed a scene like this (although this rancher has few scenes in the book), and I knew exactly where in my pile of scenes this particular one had to go. Using this layering method takes the guesswork out of the process of plotting a novel. Wouldn’t you like to stop guessing?
Don’t Forget Action-Reaction
Everything in story—just like the laws of physics—is about action-reaction. Something happens, a character reacts. He decides on a new action because of that, then gets back into action. This is the natural cycle of behavior. We hear or see something, we process, we make a decision, we act.
So as this pinch point reveals something key about the opposition, it—or the results it foments—may cause the protagonist to choose and then act, which barrels the plot toward the Midpoint.
In my Western, my hero has no idea that the “bad guy” is coming after him. It’s not until the big blowout gunfight at the fancy party at the climax that he encounters the rancher who is trying to kill him.
But the reader knows. And that’s what is most important in my story.
Your story may be different. Your protagonist may experience in person a confrontation with the opposition in that first pinch point.
With a natural event such as a storm or tornado, the stakes are raised and the hero makes a greater commitment to his goal (maybe to save someone in the storm). The point is to show how hard it now is going to be to reach that goal, which should add tension and drama to your story.
Really, all that pinch point is doing is showing the hero progressing toward his goal with the greater stakes and opposition revealed. He might now have more information that can help him defeat his enemy or thwart some complication. Think of the first pinch point as a kind of foreshadowing of trouble to come.
Can you think of a key moment in which you can show your protagonist’s central opposition between the time his goal is fixed and the Midpoint scene (which is where his commitment ramps into high gear)?
Don’t get all caught up in those specific markers. Just think about the point of your story and that goal your hero is after. It doesn’t have to be complicated.
The Second Pinch Point
If the first pinch point reveals the strength of the opposition, the second one showcases the full force of it. If your character faces the edge of a hurricane at sea at the first pinch point, showing him what he’s truly up against, the second pinch point is going to be the battle for his life with the full brunt of the storm.
This isn’t the climax, but it’s building up to it. It’s preparing the stage for the final attack, onslaught, or challenge your character will have to take.
Some insist that the second pinch point must come 5/8ths into the story, at the 62% mark, exactly between the middle of the story and the second plot point—the middle of the third act.
Can’t we just say this pinch point comes a bit before the climax, to ramp up the stakes and make things start to look impossible for your character? I’m good with that. But, hey, if you need to do the math and put everything on just the right page number, go for it.
Here are a few second pinch points from recent movies:
The Bourne Identity: Bourne returns to the hotel room where he killed Neski and his wife, and there he finally remembers what really happened to him. After the hotel clerk recognizes him, the police break into the room and he barely escapes.
The Incredibles: Helen’s plane, which is carrying her stowaway kids, is shot down over Nomanisan Island (I had to read that a few times to get it: no man is an island�
��ha-ha). Revealed are key facts about the antagonist, Syndrome, and his intent to destroy the OmniDroid and garner glory in the eyes of the Metroville citizens.
Ever After: The wicked stepmother discovers Danielle’s deception (pretending to be a countess, essentially lying to the enamored prince) and locks her in the cellar on the night of the ball. A terrific pinch point that cries out “All is lost!”
Taken: Bryan, while searching frantically for his kidnapped daughter, discovers Kim’s friend Amanda dead. He tortures the last surviving Albanian and learns Kim has been sold to a French official. Could you think of any better way to show the opposition at full force than this?
Pinch Points Are Key Developments
This basic structure fits every genre. Even a children’s fairy tale will show the wolf making inroads in the forest, confronting Little Red on her way to Granny’s at the first pinch point. And what happens at that second pinch point? Little Red, having arrived at Granny’s house, is noting those big teeth Granny has, followed by the sinking realization that it isn’t Granny lying in bed in that cute nightgown and bonnet.
Key plot developments often occur at the second pinch point: a friend dies or betrays the heroine, the key plan to reach the goal falls apart, some unexpected twist throws the biggest obstacle yet in your heroine’s path.
Frodo getting chased by the black riders in The Hobbit introduces the force of the opposition in the first pinch point. But having Gandalf fall into Moriah, leaving the fellowship grieved and leaderless, creates an even more difficult situation in the second pinch point. New, harder decisions must now be made, and the door to great conflict between the characters has now opened.
The second pinch point in The Martian reveals those in opposition to sending the spaceship Hermes on a rescue mission to get Watney. But the flight director goes behind the NASA director’s back and secretly informs the crew of the Hermes that Watney is alive and, if they choose, they could attempt a dangerous rescue. They go “rogue” and set a course back to Mars.
In my novel Colorado Promise, the second pinch point occurs when my heroine is shocked by the public announcement that she’ll be marrying Randall—a coup d’etat by her father, who is her primary opposition in her pursuit of the love of cowboy Lucas Rawlings. Now it seems impossible that Emma and Lucas will ever get together.
As with all my novels, I didn’t plan that scene to fall at exactly the 62% mark in my book. I just pulled up my handy desktop calculator, multiplied the total number of pages by .62, and voila!
But, honestly, I don’t think in terms of exact pinch point placements. I just think of bigger and bigger conflict to create as my story gallops to the climax. And I make sure I have the opposition coming full-on at these general places in the story.
Focus on the Conflict!
So many of these key scenes I’m going to be sharing with you in this layering process are going to center on conflict. And on that action-reaction cycle I mentioned.
Think of those two pinch point moments—one early in your story and one before the climax—in which you can put your character in a vise. Pinch him hard. Make him yell.
When Bruce Wayne’s mansion is destroyed and he’s left for dead by his nemesis in Batman Begins, he’s in quite a pinch.
We often see characters in the most hopeless of situations at this point in the story. Play it up, make it big. Make it hurt.
This doesn’t have to be a high-action scene though. In a relational drama or women’s fiction, this pinch point might look like a heated argument that results in the protagonist losing the support of her best friend, forcing her to make that last push to her goal seem impossible.
* * *
Your assignment: Come up with your first and second pinch points. Think about your key opposition in your story. The first point is where you reveal the power and (possibly) the motivation or intent of this opposition. The second pinch point should bring to the forefront the full threat or power of the opposition (be it storm or evil enemy).
When you’re satisfied that you’ve created the best pinch points write them into your Ten Key Scene Chart.
Chapter 8: Twists and Turns
Twists make good stories terrific. Twists are surprises, reversals. Just when you think . . . then the unexpected comes out of nowhere (or maybe it’s expected, but here it comes anyway).
We need to understand how twists work in a story. You’ll need two of them—important ones—in the first layer of ten scenes. Sure, you can more, many more! But you need two impacting twists in your framework.
Call it what you will, but a twist is basically what it sounds like. It’s a shift in movement. When you twist your body, you turn in a different direction.
It’s a complication. The hero (or any other character) is going along in a direction, and something changes or impedes the forward movement. New information or new developments twist the path being taken.
Plot twists will wrench the current direction of the story in a new, perhaps unexpected direction, and they can vary in strength.
I doubt many writers sit down when plotting and say, “Gee, I need a few twists and turns. Let me list a bunch and figure out where to put them.” More than likely they happen as a result of the writer trying to think of interesting conflict to add at specific junctures in the story.
If you’ve been compiling index cards with all your great scene ideas, it’s likely some of those scenes are twists.
Where Do Twists Go?
Twists can occur in many places in your novel. The Inciting Incident, in a way, can be considered a twist because it’s that first moment that shifts your protagonist in a new direction, presenting a new opportunity. However, it might merely be a situation that prompts the character to get moving—following that action-reaction behavior—rather than an actual twist.
Twists, by nature, are unexpected.
When Charlton Heston’s character at the end of the original Planet of the Apes movie sees the half-buried Statue of Liberty in the sand, that’s a strong twist. It’s wholly unexpected, revealing to him and the audience that he is on Earth instead of some strange planet.
When Bruce Willis’s character in The Sixth Sense realizes he’s dead, that’s a great twist. It’s not just a surprise—because twists are more than that. It’s a game changer for the story and what follows in the plot.
Twists, though, don’t have to be monumental. In most stories they are going to be small but significant to your characters. They may impact the protagonist primarily, but you can have twists that alter the courses of secondary characters as well.
With thrillers, you may have a dozen small twists and turns that create setbacks for your main character as he pursues his goal. Those twists are the obstacles that keep popping up and forcing the character to steer around, jump over, or plow through to keep making progress.
In this layering system, you are going to have two big scenes with big twists as part of the first ten scenes.
Twist #1 comes somewhere after the first pinch point (at that nebulous or exact 37% mark) and before the Midpoint.
What’s Twist #1 about? Something new happens: a new ally shows up, a friend becomes a foe. New info reveals a serious complication in reaching the goal. The protagonist must adjust in response to this setback.
Twist 2, similar to Twist #1, comes after the second pinch point (somewhere around the 67% mark) and before the climax. In this twist, an unexpected surprise rears up, giving (false?) hope. The goal now looks within reach. This might be in a mentor giving encouragement, the acquiring of a secret weapon, or the obtaining of an important clue.
A novel may have lots of small twists that are basically complications and obstacles the protagonist encounters. But you’ll want to have one or two huge twists that wrench the story, and those are terrific when done well.
I’ve chosen to include two big twists as part of the first layer of novel structure. You may decide you don’t want or need those twists. But before you decide, why not try
to come up with something and see how it works in your story framework? I think you’ll be glad you did.
Misdirect with a Plot Twist
Twists are all about redirection—or misdirection. Going against expectations.
Think about what readers are expecting and hoping for at a given moment in the story. Then keep tweaking the story into new directions that stun and delight them.
If your POV character is seeing indications that her boyfriend is going to propose to her—he’s invited her to a special dinner, says he has something important to tell her, etc. —she’s going to get her hopes up. The more you, the author, can imply that’s the boyfriend’s intention, the more impacting the twist will be when he shows up at the restaurant and tells her, sadly, that he has to call it quits. That his long-lost love he thought dead was really alive and well in Chicago (“we’ll always have Paris . . .”) and he just happened to bump into her at the dry cleaners. Or something like that.
To keep readers from noticing clues, bury them in the emotion or action of another section. For example, in an adventure novel, offhandedly mention something during a chase scene, while readers’ attention is on the action, not the revelation. Then bring it full frontal later on.
Think about casting suspicion on other characters. This is good misdirection. Another’s actions can be suspect, misinterpreted. Someone running out of a coffee shop can assumedly be meeting a lover clandestinely when he is actually responding to a call that his mother has been rushed to the hospital.
