Chapter 1: The Reading for Writers Journey

Welcome to the Reading for Writers Challenge, a 100-day endeavor where I immerse myself in Middle Grade and Young Adult literature with a writer's perspective, sharing insights with fellow authors and fans. Today's focus: Divine Rivals, chapters 29-34.

I thoroughly enjoy crafting the initial two-thirds of a narrative. The act of writing those sections is exhilarating. However, the final act poses a significant challenge for me. By "challenge," I mean that while the beginning is also demanding, it carries a sense of joy that the conclusion lacks. I dread writing endings.

The finale is where all my meticulously constructed plans seem to disintegrate. Everything I envisioned during the early stages of writing, when the book was merely a hopeful idea, feels overwhelmingly complicated.

In my search for direction and understanding—while yearning to reach the conclusion—I turn to various structural frameworks for assistance. Yet, clarity remains elusive.

For the initial segments of a story, these frameworks generally align. They might label story beats differently, but essentially, they are all speaking the same language.

Inciting Incident/Catalyst? It’s all the same!

Lock-in/Break Into Act Two? No difference here either!

Midpoint? Yes, they consistently refer to it as such.

But as one delves into the complexities of Act 2b, the waters begin to muddy.

All Is Lost, Dark Night of the Soul, or Low Point? These terms seem interchangeable. Yet, the term Climax? Really? How can we label the same moment both the Low Point and the Climax, which literally translates to "ladder"? Unless you’re descending into a metaphorical pit, this is incredibly perplexing.

From a character development standpoint, I acknowledge this point as the most pivotal moment. After the protagonist experiences an epiphany and recognizes her growth, the remainder of the narrative becomes mere details.

But honestly, those details are crucial to a story's success. If there's a structural universe where facing a formidable antagonist or holding a boombox to win over the love interest isn't termed the Climax, I wouldn't want to inhabit that world.

To illustrate this confusion, consider how various structures interpret the same story. The concluding segments often scatter across different frameworks, which leaves me more bewildered than enlightened. A prime example is Star Wars. I would love to accurately cite the diverse structural interpretations, but time constraints prevent me from doing so today.

Returning to Divine Rivals, the All Is Lost moment highlights how the emotional narrative overshadows the plot-driven elements. The overarching Dramatic Question is, "Will Iris locate her brother, Forest?" Yet, the more pressing question becomes, "Will Iris and Roman develop a romantic relationship?"

Interestingly, once Iris reaches the front lines, Ross doesn’t delve deeply into the brother's search. Forest is mentioned just enough to remind us of her mission, but the majority of our emotional investment leans towards the romance, her new friendships, and the perils of war.

Iris and Roman brave the trenches together, with Roman risking his life to shield her from an explosion. While this is a significant moment, it doesn't represent the All Is Lost point. If anything, it enhances their chances of a relationship (assuming he survives), as it reveals her feelings for him.

Iris's true low point occurs when she uncovers that Roman and Carter, her love interest/pen pal, are the same individual.

"No," she whispered. "No, it can't be. This is just a coincidence."

The world seemed to halt.

The cacophony in her ears returned, as though she had just endured an hour of artillery bombardment.

…

Roman Kitt was Carver. …

She was engulfed by a sudden wave of relief. …

But soon, questions began to flood her mind, gnawing at that moment of solace.

Had he deceived her? Was this all a game to him?

Surprisingly, her subsequent Dark Night of the Soul isn’t as bleak as one might expect. This is not a critique; after all, she has been gradually falling for Roman, so discovering their shared identity only requires a minor adjustment. Although he has deceived her for months, he attempted to reveal the truth, and he also risked his life for her, which makes her inclined to forgive.

It takes her about twenty pages to reconcile this realization.

At the conclusion of her Dark Night comes her Realization—the moment when she acknowledges her transformation.

"Good things never last long in my life. I reflected on all the people who were once close to me… and how they all departed, either by choice or fate."

…

"I reminded myself that despite being abandoned time and time again by those I loved, Roman had chosen to come to me."

And there we have it.

What can I glean from this experience? As Tom Vaughan states, it’s my role as a writer to understand my readers' desires, but I’m under no obligation to fulfill them. However, if I choose not to, I must offer something even more emotionally rewarding.

In this instance, Ross delivered precisely what I craved: a swift acknowledgment that the two men she loves are indeed the same person, without any contrived drama. She could have prolonged the tension, making it more arduous. Instead, she opted for a more straightforward approach, and I’m perfectly fine with that.

Many authors tend to drag out these moments excessively or employ actions and thoughts that feel out of character. I’d prefer a resolution that feels slightly too easy rather than one that is painful to read. After all, Iris and Roman still face a war, a missing brother, and a few deities to contend with. There are plenty of sources for conflict and drama without forcing readers to endure unnecessary obstacles.

LESSON LEARNED: The Dark Night of the Soul segment (between the All Is Lost and the Realization) should be as long as necessary, without being overly extended. Precise percentages don’t matter if they don’t serve the story I aim to tell.

Find all posts related to the Reading for Writers Challenge here:

The first video, "Getting Lost in a Good Book," features insights on the joy of immersing oneself in literature and the importance of storytelling.

The second video, "Why 'Getting Lost' in a Book is So Good," discusses the concept of escapism in reading and its emotional significance.