You sat down, fired up. Maybe you had a spark of an idea you couldn't shake, or maybe you'd done the work: beat sheets, chapter outlines, the whole thing. Either way, chapter one felt electric. Chapter three still had momentum. And then somewhere around chapter four or five, the train just... stopped.
Feel familiar? Welcome to the Sh*t in the aptly named Sh*t sandwich, and here is what you can do about it.
Fixing a Thin Plot
One of the first places you should be looking when it comes to your story is your plot. Sometimes when we have an idea for a great novel it's the climax that comes to mind "A magic ring that controls it's wearer and it's indestructible outside of throwing into a volcano" While The Lord of The Rings is much, much more than that single plot point often a story does start from that one large idea and then needs to be flushed out into it's finer points.
One way to find new subplots for your characters is to think of ways to put roadblocks in front of them. In real life, we avoid conflict as much as possible, but in our books, conflict is interesting. Does the detective in your novel find a fingerprint? Too bad it's smudged. Did they find a receipt for some gloves? hmm seems the gardener dropped it. Paint your characters into a corner, and then have them work their way back out.
But obstacles for your primary plot will only get you so far; characters (and stories) are much more dimensional than a singular goal. Your character might have a budding romance while also preparing for a meeting with the King to decide the fate of his being knighted. These are often called subplots, and are the glue that introduces your characters, your lore, and your world.
Losing The Plot
Of course, having subplots in your story, while making them more interesting, can introduce a crucial problem that often doesn't rear its ugly head until several chapters in: Losing the plot altogether.
Often, as a writer, you'll spend a lot of time exploring different ideas that come to mind. Instead of our brave hero approaching the king to become a knight, what if instead he flees the kingdom entirely in search of another kingdom? If your primary plot point is focused on that hero's journey, then that can work. But if you needed your hero to be in the palace to slay a dragon, then having him in another land entirely can become a problem.
This is where outlining can be a serious advantage over pantsing. When you outline, you have the bones of your novel in place, and while your hero is off exploring another kingdom, your outline is staring at you, demanding to know if he's going to be back in time for supper.
Of course, not everyone outlines their novel ahead of time, so if you are a panster and are exploring a far-off land, it can be helpful to stop for a moment and consider a way back, even a couple of quick jotted notes about the character's journey can save you hours of writing going to the darling graveyard later.
However, whether it's a thin plot or you've gotten lost in the weeds of chasing a side quest, one of the most common side effects is the sag.
The Sag
I'm going to level with you on this one. This is perhaps the most common and hardest part of writing a novel. Quite often, when a writer talks about writer's block, they might as well be holding up a map with a pin right in the middle of their manuscript that says "I am here". The sag happens when you've written your opening scene, the characters have set off on the quest, the primary plot driver is in place, and now you're shrugging your shoulders, going... now what?
When a manuscript hits this point in its journey, quite often writers go in one of two directions: the first is throwing up their hands, closing their word processor, and never coming back to the story again, quite often moving on to the next shiny idea. If you have a drawer full of half-finished manuscripts, then this might be you. The second type of writer will write some of the next chapter, potentially walking their characters in circles before tossing their progress in the dustbin, rinse and repeat.
There is, however, a solution, and before you roll your eyes and close the tab - hear me out - it's the outline. Now I know I seem to be hating on the pantsers in this article, and trust me, I hear you. I wrote my first novel entirely from start to finish without an outline. You can be a panster and be successful in your manuscript, but if you're finding you're stuck in the desert of "what happens next," then I encourage you to give an outline a try.
Start by doing a reverse outline: how did our characters get here, what events have taken place, what was their motivation? Quite often, what will end up happening through this process is that moment of "Oh yeah! The Manticore!" (An example of my own plight in Whispers in the Woods) where the plot thread you needed to push the plot forward will finally present itself.
But of course once you've finally overcome middle earth and start seeing the surface once again, another ugly issue is likely to surface along with it:
The Tangle
Sarah, our hero has been sent into the forest to handle an encampment of orcs that are making their way toward the village, she gets there to find the Orcs have far outstripped the numbers they expected and she races back to counsel where she reports her findings sending her off to discover the orcs numbers where she... wait a moment that's circular logic.. and while it may seem obvious in this simplified example, was much less so when I found myself in this very position in my own manuscript.
So how does something like this happen? Writing a novel is not a fast affair, so on Sunday, when Sarah discovered the orcs and discovered their numbers, you had every intention of sending her to counsel where they would surely dispatch a larger patrol to handle them. But then, between work and chores, by the time you sat down to write once again, the idea had long vanished, and you instead have the counsel send our hero Sarah, who is, after all, strong, resilient, and practically an army in her own right, to handle the concern, only to arrive at the exact same conclusion once more.
Another great example of such conflicts comes about when you work on threaded chapters. A group might, for example, be on a quest to deliver the potion from the apothecary to the wizard; meanwhile, the wizard has been to the apothecary themselves and has already set off for the badlands. In both cases, it can be hard to decide what to keep and what to cut, and the situation deflating as you delete hours of work or paste it into a brand new document called "The problem child" (Totally Hypothetically).
There are a few techniques you can use to prevent this frustrating situation from happening.
First, try to make a point of building a daily writing routine. By keeping up a routine, you are going to keep your novel fresh in your mind, and you're much less likely to create a paradox in your story. Second, keep brief notes about what has happened in your book so far. If you're an outliner, keep updating your outline so it reflects the reality of your manuscript, and if you're a panster, take 5 minutes when you've finished writing to essentially outline what you've written. Then, when the time comes to write, you can review your previous notes to quickly get up to speed.
Ultimately, a novel is a large and complex document, and you're bound to make a conflict or two. Try not to beat yourself up over these things, and remember that is what editing is there to resolve. At some point you are going to arrive at the second slice of bread in your shit sandwich where you write your climax, and ultimately the end. The important thing is to get the words on the page, like marble a novel is often crude in it's original form and it's through the careful chiselling of the editing pass where it's true form emerges.
And remember the only difference between a writer and a a dreamer is the tap of the keys or the stroke of a pen.