One Simple Question . . . or How to Plot your Novel in Seconds

I'll keep this short and sweet to stay in line with the theme of this post.

How to plot your novel in seconds depends on the Yes or No answer to the following question you should always start with before you even begin to outline: Does your protagonist eventually overcome, or surrender to, their dominant character flaw?

If yes (overcome), they are a triumphant protagonist with a false victory midpoint, a true victory climax, and a false defeat anchor point (all is lost) in between.

If no (surrender to), they are a tragic protagonist with a false defeat midpoint, a true defeat climax, and a false victory anchor point (all is joy) in between.

ERGO: end of Act 2A Midpoint --> end of Act 2B Anchor Point --> end of Act 3 Climax.

And what's so great about this is that your antagonist's plot points are the opposite of your protagonist's, meaning if you have a triumphant protagonist then you automatically have a tragic antagonist, and vice versa.

With this one simple question answered you've just mapped out the three most major key events of your story for both protagonist and antagonist, and all it took you was a few measly seconds to answer one simple question: Does your protagonist eventually overcome, or surrender to, their dominant character flaw?

The Easy Peasy Conflict Formula . . . or why Good + Bad x Worse = Great fiction!

I usually hate metaphors (especially when it comes to writing ‘advice’), but this one does possess a spot of magical wisdom as it pertains to creating great fiction: force your protagonist up a tree . . . then throw rocks at them until they fall.

When it comes to story, technically there exists nine acts (Act 1’s 1st & 2nd halves, Act 2A’s 1st & 2nd halves, the Midpoint, Act 2B’s 1st & 2nd halves, and Act 3’s 1st & 2nd halves) but let’s keep things simple and leave it to the base three acts of Beginning, Middle, and End. Or Problem, Complications, and Resolution. Or Act 1, Act 2, and Act 3.

I like to describe the three basic acts as follows:

Act 1 = Engage a major problem.

Act 2 = Mistakes exist as opportunities for learning.

Act 3 = Experience is the best teacher.

Because Act 1 represents the set-up of everything and everyone in your story while introducing its central conflict. Act 2 represents all the trials and tribulations the protagonist endures and overcomes while attempting to resolve the story’s central conflict. And Act 3 represents the protagonist applying everything they’ve learned through the adversity of your story then proving it against the antagonist to either a triumphant-positive (most common) or tragic-negative (least common) outcome.

But that’s the big basic picture of the story whole, and here we’re going to focus on the smaller puzzle pieces of its scenes and how they fit together.

After you finish crafting your latest glorious scene of minor protagonist triumph, you relax and bask in the awing genius that is wonderful you . . . only to ponder the inevitable as to that perfect scene you just wove upon the page by asking yourself, “Okay, so what happens next?”

Stumped?

Just apply the proven formula standby that one ‘good’ scene deserves two ‘bad’ scenes and you’ll never ponder for long. Though how much good and how little bad is up to you.

Devastate your happy characters, or just prickle their fouling turn of moods. Though understand this: a scene should be either a step toward or shove away from your protagonist resolving the story’s central conflict. Because just as with your overall story, every scene in it should involve a point of view character, a goal, and an obstacle preventing said character from achieving their current goal; ergo: conflict. The scene is over when it is determined that the point of view character either succeeds or fails, causing change to their previous status when before the scene began whether positive or negative.

The first necessary part is already provided via the good scene. Excellent. Next you chase it with two specific and important questions:

1. How can I make it bad?

Then . . .

2. How can I make it even worse?

The ‘good’ scene rewards your characters with success of some sort, however extraordinary or mundane, a positive step in the right direction: a new revelation of key information discovered; the harbored tensions between two arguing allies at last or temporarily smoothed through amiable compromise; small progress achieved toward resolving the main story goal; a minor subplot concluded with victory; whatever floats your boat as according to your particular story.

But then . . . (maniacal laughter ensues, full and deep and with head craned) . . . oh yes, and then you, the sadistic writer you are, should punish them with a doubly wicked turn of two negative scenes (bad, and worse), however major or minor, a negative shove in the wrong direction followed by a punch in the face as they stumble backwards for regaining stolen balance: someone close to the protagonist betrays them; a loved one is harmed, kidnapped or killed; a precious item is discovered broken or lost or stolen; a friendship dissolves through misplaced suspicion or an argument of a past misgiving resurfaced; the simple twist of a sprained ankle while running; whatever floats your boat as according to your particular story.

You can bundle the bad and worse scenes into one horrible scene if you like, depending on how good the scene preceding it, or keep them separate though chained in a sort of double whammy ala the shove then punch. Point being, reward and punishment go hand in hand when it comes to great fiction. Because reward followed by punishment instigates constant conflict, and conflict piques our interests while demanding we keep reading until its dramatic and surprising though logical and satisfying conclusion.

Two bickering neighbors outside?

You know you crack your window to steal a better listen while peeking through the blinders opened just enough of a touch to see what’s happening across the street.

A car wreck on the side of the road?

Of course you slow down while passing and staring at the police handcuffing the driver as their crying spouse tries to fight off Johnny Law.

Why?

Because conflict is interesting.

Offer your eager protagonist climber a daunting tree up which they clamber then shout victory while clinging to its swaying apex (Good).

Now throw rocks at them until they fall (Bad).

Now kick them in the ribs while laughing strong (Worse).

Then you remove a bit and allow them recovering space through which they groan into standing, dust off and, determined not to be undone, they prove eager for that next harrowing climb (Great)!

And when they do, make sure you grab another handful of rocks and take aim as they clamber once more up that inviting tree of conflict . . . because good + bad x worse = great fiction!

Traditional vs. Self-Publishing . . . or How to Price your Ebooks and Paperbacks Part Two

This advice is for the average fiction author self-publishing through Amazon KDP; nonfiction buyers are less price-sensitive because of the content involved and what they might learn from it.

I needed to update book prices on my website because of Amazon KDP’s new paperback price hike policy (**see below) and happened to take a gander at a previous article I wrote not so long ago about how to properly price your ebooks and paperbacks, and it got me thinking after quickly rereading it.

So let me Dr. Phil this ‘article update’ since I proved pretty damn long-winded in the first article while vomiting tons of various statistics and figures all over the place that might have left some of you just as confused going out the door as you were coming in because I never gave a definitive answer.

Let’s get down to the nitty-gritty and rub some dirt on it, shall we?

Traditional Publishing:

A traditionally published author receives 5–20% royalties on print books, and 25% on ebooks. On average, traditional publishing houses pay authors $1.25 per copy sold. The average word count for full length adult fiction in traditional publishing is 70,000 to 120,000 words, depending upon the specific genre. The average traditionally published book sells 3,000 copies over the course of its lifetime.

Self-Publishing:

Amazon KDP pays its self-published authors 60% royalties on paperbacks, 70% on ebooks priced $2.99 to $9.99, and 35% on ebooks priced under $2.99 or over $9.99.

Don’t buy into the hype rampant on YouTube about “How to earn $10,000+ per month selling your books my way on Amazon!” because those scam artists make most of their money from YouTube, are only baiting you into clicking on their videos because to them more views equals more money, and they spend a large amount of their YouTube earnings on expensive book promotions and advertising that most of us don’t possess the means to fund in order to finagle the sales results as ‘proof’ of their claims just so you’ll watch more of their videos while contributing to their revenue. The cold, hard fact is: 90% of self-published books sell less than 100 copies, and 20% of self-published authors report making no income from their books.

So what to do?

First, don’t get discouraged. Real authors write for the love of writing, not because of some get-rich-quick scheme.

Next, base the price of your paperback novel on the price of its ebook, meaning if you profit $3 per ebook sold then adjust its paperback equivalent so that it also profits around $3 per sale. These prices won’t typically be an exact match, so find the ebook profit per sale first then choose the over/under profit per sale closest to that number for its paperback equivalent. Just remember to keep both prices ending in 99 or 95 because these are the two top-selling prices of the market, so adjust accordingly. Also remember that most of your profits will come from ebook sales over paperback sales, and this discrepancy is only growing.

According to years of personal experience, hours of fondling Google’s naughty little search engine, Smashwords, successful authors like James Scott Bell, and plenty of other sources too many to name, the optimum price range for fiction ebooks is $2.99 to $4.99, depending upon genre and length. This is because the order of top-selling ebook prices on Amazon is:

1. $3.99

2. $2.99

3. $0.99

4. $4.99

5. $5.99

6. $1.99

7. $6.99

8. $7.99, $8.99, and $9.99 (these three have the same sales rate)

*the drop in ebook sales numbers from $3.99 to $5.99 is over half, and the drop in sales numbers from $5.99 to $7/8/9.99 is by half again.

Clearly the magic sweet spot is $3.99 for maximum sales, an affordable yet competitive price, and a decent author profit.

Though obviously genre, word count, either fiction or nonfiction, and author brand recognition all factor into this, but we’re talking the law of averages here.

The average word count for full length adult fiction in traditional publishing is 90,000 words.

The average word count for full length narrative nonfiction in traditional publishing is 75,000 words.

The average word count for full length prescriptive nonfiction in traditional publishing is 60,000 words.

Statistically, the ‘sweet spot’ for full length fiction (action & adventure, sci fi & fantasy, mystery & suspense . . . etc) is $3.99.

The ‘sweet spot’ for full length narrative nonfiction (memoirs, essays, auto/biographies . . . etc) is $5.99.

The ‘sweet spot’ for full length prescriptive nonfiction (business and finance, health and wellness, educational how-to’s . . . etc) is $7.99+.

This is because Amazon KDP’s ‘sweet spot’ for all ebooks is $2.99 to $9.99 in order to earn that tasty 70% royalty; anything priced above or below, even by a single penny, and your royalty rate drops to 35% (and don’t even get me started on Amazon’s 40% royalty Expanded Distribution option, which is a complete waste of time while earning you little if any money).

Fiction sells based on genre.

Narrative nonfiction sells based on theme.

Prescriptive nonfiction sells based on purpose.

All three depend upon the particular reader’s interests.

Fiction sells for less because most people read a novel only once or twice before giving it away, storing it on a bookshelf to gather dust, or deleting it from their digital reading device to make room for other books.

Narrative nonfiction sells for a little more because most people are interested in their favorite celebrity’s life story, or they can emotionally relate to your battle with overcoming cancer, your triumphant struggle against suicide or religious awakening.

Prescriptive nonfiction sells for a lot more because most people are seeking to learn something new, as well these books are often referenced over and again throughout the years because of what they have to teach.

As to self-publishing fiction prices and profits . . . factor in the average expected word count of your genre then base the paperback price on its ebook profit per sale.

If you’ve written an ‘average-length’ novel in your genre, pick $3.99 for its ebook price then adjust its paperback profit per sale to its ebook profit per sale.

If you’ve written a ‘below average-length’ novel in your genre, pick $2.99 for its ebook price then adjust its paperback price accordingly.

If you’ve written an ‘above average-length’ novel in your genre, pick $4.99 for its ebook price then adjust its paperback price accordingly.

Anything less ($0.99) should be reserved for loss leaders (the first book in a series that already has several novels released), promotional sales, or short stories.

Anything more ($5.99+) should be reserved for doorstopper novels (200,000+ words), and nonfiction books.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

No fuss or muss, no headache or hassle.

But again, remember that other things such as genre and author brand recognition factor into this. For example, romance tends to sell at a lower average price, whereas erotica tends to sell at a higher average price, just like most fantasy novels are expected to have a higher than average word count for normal prices.

As to author brand recognition . . . if it’s your first novel and you’re a complete unknown then choose a lower than average price to get your book into as many readers’ hands as possible so they’ll return for future novels. If you’ve been at it a couple of years with several novels out and have a growing readership then price your books to the average. And if you’re a well-known author with an established fanbase and a large catalog of published works then you can risk pricing your books higher than average.

Point being: stay humble and don’t be greedy; also, use your head and stop overthinking it because it’s not rocket science.

So why not just base all of your prices on traditional publishing profits?

Because traditionally published authors and their publishing houses have to split the profits of a book (which ranges on average from $1 to $4 per copy sold), and you also have to factor in house editors, PR teams, author brand recognition and all that snaz. Whereas self-published authors typically do all of the work themselves, which is why they deserve to profit more per sale.

There are plenty of free options available when it comes to cover design and interior layout (such as Midjourney, and Canva; both have paid options too and are well worth the cost), proper manuscript/document formatting, and when it comes to editing it is well advised that you should learn how to do this yourself instead of paying an expensive copyeditor (whom typically charges $10+ per printed page, double-spaced and with 1-inch margins) because knowing how to edit your novel will only improve your writing, which leads to less future editing while saving you money.

If you’re a real author then you’re not looking to get rich quick off of publishing one or two books as if writing is some kind of lottery, otherwise you’re in this business for all the wrong reasons. Instead you should focus on consistently releasing great content while establishing a loyal readership with a growing catalog of books, because authorship isn’t a sprint but a lifelong marathon.

And since the average traditionally published author earns $1.25 per book sold, you’re already earning more than them even if you price your fiction ebook lower at $2.99, which typically profits you around $2 per sale depending on the file size.

**If you don’t know by now (then this is a wake-up call), Amazon KDP has changed its printing policies so that all of its self-published authors are taking a huge cut to their paperback profits come June 20th 2023. Depending on the size of your books, this could mean as much as a 38% profit reduction per paperback sale.

Yup.

You read that right.

38% profit reduction per paperback sale.

That’s for the 8.5 x 11 inchers though, and the royalty cut reduces a little for the smaller trim size of your book (pretty much every book sized 6 x 9 and over is going to have a higher minimum manufacturing cost to print, and the larger the book the larger the cost).

I took Amazon’s ‘bulk update’ option to make things easier, but news flash: you will still have to go back and manually adjust all of the prices of all of your paperback books because that bulk-update will leave their prices all wonky and often much too high compared to the previous price.

Fact is, you’re going to have to bite the bullet and accept that you will earn less money from your paperback sales from now on than you did before. Either that or charge your potential readers a lot more, which is never a good idea and only leaves a sour taste in their mouth.

Anywho . . .

So why the minimum manufacturing cost price hike all of a sudden?

I’m guessing it’s the combination of Amazon’s hefty loss of billions of moolah on their failed Rings of Power woke-show alongside the flood of low-content books (journals, diaries, coloring books . . . etc) over the previous years that a plethora of scam-baiting YouTubers espouse as their get-rich-quick scheme.

Regardless, this is Amazon KDP’s new industry standard for all of its authors. Either deal with the heat or get out of the kitchen.

Magic Oracle Die . . . or the Fun Chaos Factor of Pantsing!

If you haven't noticed by now from reading some of my previous articles, I love employing dice into the creative process; probably because I've always been a tabletop gamer at heart (Dungeons & Dragons is stating the glaring obvious, I grew up playing beloved HeroQuest that will always hold a special place in my heart, I currently enjoy the excellent and highly recommended Four Against Darkness rpg for solo adventurers whenever I have a spare hour to dungeon-delve between writing and life, and I'm also working on finishing up a rules-lite homebrew solo rpg of my own design presently titled 'One-Shot Dungeon' that will hopefully soon see publishing release and, if enough others also enjoy it, may include future add-ons via adventure books, campaign expansions and character additions).

So here's another fun little dice-ditty to add to your writerly repertoire that's worked well for me.

I'm a plotter by nature, but sometimes it's fun to buck the trend and do a little pantsing every now and again. I enjoy challenging myself like that because it leads me down new and unexpected avenues of creativity otherwise untapped.

And I do this with my magic oracle die.

What's that, you ask?

What is a magic oracle die?

I unexpectedly procured it one fine day when taking my only cow for sale to market, and it's served me well ever since.

My magic oracle die is simple, really. The one-eyed traveling merchant who constantly twisted the ends of his dark moustache while cackling during our fateful trade swore it was blessed by the Gods who farted on it before casting it to Earth from the glorious heavens above.

One six-sided die, it be, and each side represents an answer to any Yes or No question I ask of it while also providing that answer an interesting little string of influences attached I might not otherwise think of.

While writing from the seat of my pants, I often pause and ask my magic oracle die a Yes or No question then roll and consult its result.

I call this the Chaos Factor because it introduces surprising and random though logical events into your writing you wouldn't otherwise think of on the fly as your fingers tap-tap-taparoo away at the keyboard.

So make yourself a tiny chart to keep on hand while writing to consult whenever you get stuck, bored, curious, or just want to throw a monkeywrench into your scenes and see what happens.

Here's the Chaos Factor chart of my magic oracle die (the numbers assigned are arbitrary because you have a 1 in 6 chance of rolling each response):

1. No . . . And . . . And.

2. No . . . And . . . But.

3. No . . . But . . . And.

4. Yes . . . But . . . And.

5. Yes . . . And . . . But.

6. Yes . . . And . . . And.

*You could also use a blank die and, with a Sharpie, write abbreviations of the chart results on its six respective sides: NAA, NAB, NBA, YBA, YAB, YAA.

TIP: the magic oracle die also works great while plotting your initial outline!

What this Chaos Factor chart represents is the initial answer to your Yes or No question followed by two additional effects dependent upon the response preceding it.

For example, you roll #6 (Yes . . . And . . . And) for the response to your question: Knowing two armed guards await her on the other side of a closed door because she sneakily pursued them here without their knowing . . . "Does my female protagonist detective throw caution to the wind and successfully kick in the door?"

(Yes) she manages to kick in the door that hits the first armed guard right in the startled kisser, (And) the unexpected impact knocks him out cold, (And) his gun fires a stray bullet during his unconscious collapse to the floor, shooting the second armed guard in the stomach while incapacitating him for interrogation.

Understand that this is not how you would literally write the scene, this is just a short sequential reveal of how the events possibly happen. If you like the result then you would obviously write the scene all the way through in more detail and with better description. If you don't like the result then just reroll for another.

Now let's say you instead rolled #5 (Yes . . . And . . . But) in response to the same question.

(Yes) she manages to kick in the door that hits the first armed guard right in the startled kisser, (And) the unexpected impact knocks him out cold, (But) his gun fires a stray bullet during his unconscious collapse to the floor, shooting the protagonist in her thigh while the commotion alerts the second armed guard to her newly injured presence who raises his gun and draws a steady bead upon her exposed position.

That's two Yeses, but what if you'd rolled a No instead? Okay, let's pick one at random and find out where it leads us.

You ask the same question, then roll the magic oracle die and get result #2 (No . . . And . . . But).

(No) she fails to kick in the door that proves so fragile her eager foot bursts through the rotting wood, (And) her kicking leg becomes awkwardly captured up to the thigh within the hole of her debacle while alerting the two armed guards on the other side to her intrusive and now vulnerable presence, (But) she manages to free herself just in the nick as enemy bullets pierce through the door in a spray of splinters while whizzing past her by inches as she tumbles backwards to the floor where she lays shooting a rapid return of blind gunshots that kills one guard while injuring the other—revealed after she risks sitting up, pistol clip spent, and views through the jagged hole of her initial kick upon the riddled door at the injured guard who sits clutching his stomach next to his dead companion, his gun abandoned to staunch the bleeding with his pressing hands.

(Yes) I added a bit of writerly flair to that last example for fun's sake, (And) I could go on and on providing endless examples of my magic oracle die, (But) I'll stop it here because I think you grasp the concept of how its wonderful Chaos Factor of influence works by now.

So grab your own magic oracle die and have some fun testing it out!

Protagonist Potential . . . or Why the Dominant Character Flaw is so damn Important

I've kept this lesson as concise as possible because I'm about to reveal the single most important piece of advice you will ever learn as a fiction writer regardless your genre, and often point, purpose and meaning become lost amid overcomplicated explanations which can lead to frustrating confusion.

Here is the core formula of every story ever told in its most basic form:

A flawed protagonist's ordinary world is disrupted by an unfamiliar event associated with their dominant character flaw. They endure trials and tribulations, both positive and negative, which are connected to their dominant character flaw. They eventually arrive to decision and either overcome or surrender to their dominant character flaw. Then they are either rewarded or punished accordingly.

So how does this apply to the Acts?
Like so:

Act 1 (Inciting Incident): A flawed protagonist's ordinary world is disrupted by an unfamiliar event associated with their dominant character flaw.

Act 2A (Trials & Tribulations): They endure trials and tribulations, both positive and negative, which are connected to their dominant character flaw.

Act 2B (Dark Night of the Soul): They eventually arrive to decision and either overcome or surrender to their dominant character flaw.

Act 3 (Triumphant or Tragic Climax): Then they are either rewarded or punished accordingly.


This simple core formula works for both Plotters and Pantsers as well every genre that exists because every story is about protagonist change, whether Triumphant positive or Tragic negative, all stemming from their dominant character flaw, and once that change is triumphantly rewarded or tragically punished your story is over.
This is why you must begin the creation of your story by establishing an interesting and relatable dominant character flaw restricting the protagonist from achieving their full potential, because everything in your story relates to the protagonist eventually overcoming or surrendering to their dominant character flaw as well the ensuing reward or punishment either earns them as the story's moral lesson, providing its proof of purpose to exist.

!Bonus!: I'll retouch on this here from other lessons as a reminder: every protagonist has two antagonists (Internal, and External). Because of this, every story has two climaxes (for lack of better terms: minor, and major).
The triumphant protagonist overcomes their dominant character flaw during the minor climax at the end of Act 2, which in turn provides them the capability to defeat the External antagonist during the major climax at the end of Act 3.
The tragic protagonist surrenders to their dominant character flaw during the minor climax at the end of Act 2, which in turn condemns them to losing against the External antagonist during the major climax at the end of Act 3.
The Internal antagonist the protagonist confronts during the minor climax at the end of Act 2 is the spiritual manifestation of their dominant character flaw inhibiting their growth.
The External antagonist the protagonist confronts during the major climax at the end of Act 3 is the physical manifestation of their dominant character flaw inhibiting their change.

Because it's all about potential, baby, and whether the protagonist achieves it for better or worse.