Where does the real story lie? What is the essence of your tale? What are you really trying to say? What is it about? Another way of thinking about story essence is to think of the central and guiding theme. Consider the terms story essence and theme as synonyms.
One of my favourite quotes about theme is from Terry Bain in Gotham Writers’ Workshop Writing Fiction:
‘The theme is the container for your story. Theme will attempt to hold all the elements of your story in place. It is like a cup. A vessel. A goblet. The plot and characters and dialogue and setting and voice and everything else are all shaped by the vessel. In many cases the vessel will go unnoticed by readers, but it would be very difficult to drink a glass of wine without the glass itself. The glass itself is, of course, part of the experience, but it is not one we always pay much attention to.’
After I read a manuscript, the first thing I do is attempt to identify what the work is about, the shape of the container holding the story together. If I can’t seem to grasp the story essence, its central and guiding theme, however hard I try and however long I ruminate on it, then I can be pretty sure that the writer is unclear on the essence as well. Or there may be more than one essence, which is an indication that the writer has not made a clear decision on the direction of the manuscript.
If you are just starting out with a story idea, you might not yet know what the story essence is. Even if you have a completed draft, you might not yet be clear on what it’s all about, that’s okay. Keep in mind that writers don’t usually plant themes, they find and nurture them and may only be able to fully identify what they are writing about in the second, third and later drafts. This does not in any way mean that earlier drafts are unworthy, it simply illustrates the complexities of the writing process and the mysteries of inspiration and creativity.
But finding clarity about the story essence will help you as you move forward with your project. It is an important tool to determine how to structure the plot, focussing on scenes that are expressive of your theme and setting aside story ideas that are not.
The key to understanding story essence is that there is a difference between what happens in a story, and what it is about. If we return to Bain’s metaphor, what happens constitutes the plot, akin to the wine, while what it’s about is the glass, the vessel that shapes the story. While there are many ways and means of telling a story and different genres require different styles and structures, every work can benefit from a clear understanding of what it is about. Peter Carey notes in his interview with Kate Grenville and Sue Woolfe for Making Stories that when he gets stuck or feels like he’s losing his way or losing his confidence, he sits down and writes, “This story is about…” I call this an essence sentence and recommend giving it a go.
An essence sentence won’t name a particular character or setting, but will instead reference ideas and emotions that can resonate with a wide audience. For example, from fiction and narrative non-fiction manuscripts I have worked on: ‘This story is about the ways in which family secrets shape us.’ ‘This story is about friendship and acceptance.’ ,This story is about the unique challenges women face striving to balance multiple roles.’ Promotional material for books often makes reference to the story essence, as do back cover blurbs. Check some out to get an idea of how they are expressed.
Once you’ve identified the story essence/theme and have it written in one or two sentences, place it somewhere in your writing space and refer to it often when you are writing and revising your work. As you develop the work over numerous drafts you are aiming to make the themes resonate for the reader, to amplify them. You don’t want to force them down your reader’s throat – there’s nothing more stultifying than didactic writing – but clarity about your story essence will help you make strategic decisions you are likely to face along the way about what can stay and what can go, about point of view choices, about character arcs, and about turning points in plotlines.
Phillip Pullman reflected on this process in writing Northern Lights, the first installment of the series His Dark Materials. Pullman said (my emphasis):
It wasn’t until I’d got halfway through the first part of Northern Lights that I realised I was writing a story about leaving childhood behind. But that aim or purpose, or theme, wasn’t where I started. It’s far too abstract. … In fact I don’t start with a theme in mind at all, but with characters in particular situations. If I’m lucky a theme becomes visible to me before I reach the end of the story, so I can go back and cut, or shape, or move, or amplify, or reduce various parts of the text in order to clarify the theme I’m beginning to see.
What’s the essence of your story?
See also Vital Organs Part 2: The Major Dramatic Question and Vital Organs Part 3: The Central Event
For more details on books referenced in this blog, see Recommended Reading and Listening.
