Demystifying the Generalized “Rising Action” of Your Novel’s Second Act (According to Brain Science)

Gina Kammer Author

What do you do with all this middle space in your novel manuscript before getting your character to the climax? Hint: use brain science insights.

Demystifying the Generalized "Rising Action" of Your Novel's Second Act

What Brain Science Says about Writing with Story Structures #8

The insights from cognitive psychology can help us understand the effects and usefulness of story structures, and this is what I break down in this series. In these articles on story structure elements, I dive into the effects of story on readers and how these structures play a part in that. I also offer suggestions for what writers can do to have the best of both worlds — both the joy of just writing and creating a tale readers will want to read.

You’ve moved your protagonist into act two of your story. This character has just been flung headlong into the main conflict and can’t turn back now. The enemy and stakes are clearer.

So now what?

What do you do with all this middle space in your novel manuscript before getting your character to the climax? We all know the dreaded “saggy,” “mushy,” slack, and drooping middle. This section along the plot curve typically takes a dive — a slow, onerous dive for the reading worst.

How do we draw the tension taut and keep up the forward momentum and sense of progress on the reader’s part?

My answer is this: 

character arc + conflict = unputdownable 

(even in the murky middle).

But let’s shed some light on the murk and find surer footing on our way forward than our poor characters taking the route through the Dead Marshes. We’re going to make a fairly close inspection of the piece of plot structure known as the “rising action” to help dissect that equation.

What Is a Novel’s Rising Action?

The rising action of a plot’s structure could very generally be defined as every event building toward the novel’s climax. However, it’s usually referring more specifically to the start of act two to the novel’s midpoint.

The rising action comprises more of a section of a novel than one specific beat. This tracks because the rising action is all about the journey — literally, figuratively, and metaphysically.

Unlike the other structural beats that rather necessitate the types of events that happen before and after, the rising action does a bit extra. In part, the rising action is the buildup to the midpoint. But it’s not merely the buildup. There’s a lot more going on here.

The rising action fulfills many of a story’s needs. It includes

• taking actions to pursue goals

• facing obstacles to those goals (conflict)

• an exploration of the world beyond the status quo

• character development

• buildup/setup for the midpoint

I want to dissect each a bit more. As always, I take an approach guided by the internal character conflict since, as brain science suggests, it ties the story to the reason readers should care. And that’s always my aim. If readers don’t care, they can’t be entertained or enlightened.

Ways to Keep Your Rising Action Climbing Instead of Slipping into the Muck

Think of the new challenges your protagonist must adapt to

• in a new setting/world
• to navigate a new situation
• budding relationships
• etc.

Find ways to contrast the old world (or beginning status quo) to the new world.

• How does it push your character mentally and/or physically?
• Can it press harder against your character’s inner demons/fears?

Most of all, consider how even while taking action to pursue a goal, your character still believes the lies of her inner demon.

• How can this idea drive her decisions and actions?
• How are those decisions and actions therefore misguided?
• Let her decisions lead to further obstacles — and especially to the midpoint complication.

In act two, your protagonist is beginning her journey to truth in earnest. But it’s going to take a little while for her to find her way. In her new world, your protagonist is forced to adapt to new challenges.

She’s left her old, relatively comfortable box (even if the original situation wasn’t ideal, it was at least familiar), and now she has a new situation to navigate and a new world to explore. She might have to learn new rules for getting by in this world until she can achieve her goals. 

For example, Frodo comes up against strange and dangerous creatures in the Old Forest as soon as he’s out of the safety of the Shire. He needs to use the verse taught to him by Tom Bombadil to escape the Barrow-wight. Even in Bree, the hobbits are no longer able to trust just anyone. Suddenly there’s great need for secrecy and deception for their safety. Harry Potter has not only a new school but a whole hidden magical world to learn about. Katniss has to play along with the Gamemakers and audience/sponsor expectations in The Hunger Games.

Save Your Novel’s Rising Action Like Video Game Progress

If you’re stuck in the muck in your novel’s middle, think of your story like a video game. What does your main character need to succeed in the final boss fight?

Brainstorm how your character can level up in

• knowledge
• training
• equipment
• personal growth

Use these prompts to inspire scenes full of conflict and obstacles testing your character to maintain momentum.

In terms of narrative video games, this is the section in the story in which characters equip themselves with knowledge, training, and items to prepare for the final boss fight. They need to grow and develop through obstacles in their path before they have what it takes. In a novel, this also means that these obstacles are precisely made to challenge the protagonist’s inner demons, which she will finally come to understand by the climax (instead of continuing to be driven by the inner demons despite the plot that’s basically been attempting to force her to change this whole time). But at this point, the protagonist is still clinging to the lies of her inner demons and making subpar decisions that frequently lead to more setbacks and obstacles.

Perhaps at a couple of points along the way, the protagonist makes a more obvious connection to how far she’s come. She realizes that back in her status quo world, she never would have dreamed she’d be able to do what she’s doing now. 

Or maybe there’s a poignant grounding beat that helps the protagonist remember her roots and purpose to help her tackle her plan to achieve her goal. These moments also help to signpost that growth for readers. This sort of reflection is common and relatable in most readers’ lives, so it draws on those memories to give readers a sense of awe along with the protagonist. Rather than cheesy or cliche, it actually creates better immersion and an emotional portal for readers to vicariously feel that sense of accomplishment — and, as a side effect, that what they’ve read through thus far has been quite the adventure.

So, yeah. There are quite a few things going on in the rising action section of your novel. However, it’s useful to work backward a bit by knowing where your plot metaphor is going so that you can use this section of rising action to help your characters get there. The immediate aim is the novel’s midpoint. So if you think of the major twist or turning point that occurs in the middle of your story, how can you help your character get there?

An Example: The Fellowship of the Ring

I’m going to look at The Fellowship of the Ring to show how this might work. The midpoint (the beat which we’ll cover in-depth in the next post) happens during the Council of Elrond when Frodo makes his decision to take the Ring to Mount Doom himself. The second act possibly begins after the Brandywine bridge. The crossing marks the border of the Shire and therefore leaving the old world behind. So from there up to the Council of Elrond, the events constitute the rising action.

In The Fellowship of the Ring, the rising action is literally and figuratively a journey for Frodo. So many obstacles hinder him along the way. Gandalf hasn’t appeared to meet him, which is troubling. The pursuit of the Nazgul is terrifying. And this all happens on top of the fact that Frodo has never been so far from the safety of his home. He has a completely different world with many more dangers and untrustworthy figures that don’t all necessarily have to do with the main antagonist. But he does gain some equipment after the run-in with the Barrow-wight and has his resolve tested. His fear of corruption paired with his inexperience combines for a compelling internal and external conflict.

While Frodo’s friends are getting merry in the Prancing Pony, Frodo shows better caution. He’s learned a few things from the prior ordeals. Still, his incident vanishing with the Ring in front of the whole inn further complicates his efforts to remain discreet. Therefore, he’s understandably distrustful when meeting the stranger Strider. All of this shows just how far Frodo is from home, serves as obstacles, and also helps him along on his character growth journey.

For another surge in growth, the attack at Weathertop — a pinch point or “complication” — delivers. The hobbits stand their ground against the Nazgul on their own. A further obstacle is Frodo’s stab wound from the Witch-king. While he’s leveling up, so does the conflict. It follows with the pursuit to the Ford of the Bruinen River with Glorfindel to an epic victory (temporary though it may be) over the Nazgul.

Finally, Frodo reunites with Gandalf and Bilbo. He also meets key characters including Elrond and Arwen in Rivendell. Here he has a chance to truly reflect on where he’s been and how far he’s come. He talks extensively with Bilbo—a link to home and Frodo’s roots in the Shire. Bilbo also represents a reason to double down on Frodo’s resolve to protect the Shire by not just getting the Ring out of the Shire, but continuing as its bearer to destroy it for good. (And note that externally, Frodo receives better equipment in Rivendell to handle what comes later.)

But I don’t think Frodo could have made it to that decision of the midpoint back at the first plot point. He hadn’t yet experienced threats real enough to understand the stakes. He hadn’t been tested nor had a taste of what would be required of him.

So we see how the obstacles, the characters Frodo meets, the journey and progress, and then the knowledge and equipment gained all help to move him closer to the midpoint complication. Use this example — full of pinch points and a lot of internal wrestling — to help you think of your manuscript or outline in a new light.

Remember that none of the conflict or looming antagonists will mean much without a final character transformation in mind. So make sure you’re clear on your protagonist’s inner demons so that you can drive your character’s decisions in a misguided way that yields even more complications and conflict.

Your character will have a chance to eventually get it right, but that’s a discussion for another time! For now, keep taut your story’s middle and especially the rising action prior to the midpoint by setting into motion the components that your protagonist will need to make her transformation in the final act.

Categories: story structure