Two words often used interchangeably which mean completely different things: story versus plot. One of them is way more important than the other.
Understanding plot
Plot is the sequence of events that occurs during the novel; things that happen. Events, incidents, conflicts; these are the component parts of the plot that get you from the beginning to the end. They vary according to the genre; action, romance, crime. These all have recognizable elements of genre, conventions, and structures. They are the framework and the skin of the novel.
Plot is the first thing that engages the reader, perhaps more than character (although we talk a lot about compelling characters as the most engaging element).
If the novel is a journey, then plot is the ‘what’ and ‘how’ of the novel.
Understanding story
Story is the whole of the novel, greater than the sum of plot, character, setting and genre. Story expresses emotions and themes. It is more than what happens or to whom; story is why it matters. Story has emotional resonance. It stays with us long after we’ve forgotten the mechanics of plot. Through story, we are witness to the characters’ struggles, growth, triumph and failure. It is through story that we identify with the characters and their human experience. Even if the characters are blue-skinned aliens, rabbits or fish in the ocean.
Story is able to evoke a range of emotions in readers. The Greek playwrights spoke of catharsis, the emotional release experienced through engaging with art, a feeling of purification or purging of emotions such as pity or fear, or the arousal of joy, sympathy, love, justice, achievement. It is story that creates a sense of emotional renewal.
Classic plot, timeless story
Our favourite example, Jane Austin’s Pride and Prejudice provides the classic romance template. Every beat of the romance form exists in the relationship of Elizabeth Bennett and Mr. Darcy. The plot is a marvel of engineering.
But the story of Pride and Prejudice tackles relationship dynamics, social class, pride and, yes, prejudice. Lizzie’s pursuit of happiness, the outcome of the will-they-won’t-they romance, is far more important to us than the mechanics of miscommunication, perception, opportunities and pitfalls.
Complete and Contained
Plot can roam far and wide, break the laws of time and space; break the conventions of genre and story type. But story has to be complete and self-contained. The writer has to identify the themes are, the characters’ arcs of change; their opening state and end state. They have to provide a cohesive theory of why the story is important. It isn’t plot that makes us care.
It doesn’t ultimately matter who marries who unless we care why they marry. Story invites a moral judgement. Lizzie marries for love; readers cheer. Charlotte Lucas marries for security. Admirable moral pragmatism, or a tragedy? Or both? We’re invited to compare Charlotte’s fate with Lizzie’s expectations. It raises the stakes, heightens our emotions, deepens our engagement. Charlotte is a mirror to Lizzie, the two of them on the same road. When Lizzie rejects the path, we cheer her moral choice, even though it deepens the family crisis.
The Wickham elopement threatens ruin. Darcy proves himself by his intervention. Lizzie revises her opinion. She moves along her arc of change, he reveals the goodness of heart that was there all along. The plot serves the story.
Arcs, twists, new shapes
This is why I maintain anyone can write plot. There are no new plots, only new twists. It’s the emotional response to characters and outcomes that defines story.
My fantasy series consists of genre-abiding action-adventure plot elements in conventional plot structures. I’m doing nothing new. I’d like to think my characters have genuine rooting interest and struggles with which readers can empathise. Struggle is universal. Struggle is where story comes alive.