The story arc can take several forms. It can be linear, a straight shot from the inciting incident to the conclusion. This kind of story takes our protagonist through a series of events that all lead to one ending, a point well away from where it began. The protagonist has left his roots behind and is transformed into a hero.
Another arc takes the protagonist on a journey that can end several different ways, all of them taking our characters down a winding path with many choices, roads not taken. They also are altered by their experiences for good or ill.
Yet another arc takes the protagonist back to their beginnings, transformed and ready to face their future.
My favorite arc to play with is the double circular arc, also known as the infinity arc. The majority of this post appeared here in November 2023, so if you have read it already, thank you for stopping by. The infinity arc is on my mind as it’s a method I am employing in a current short work-in-progress.
When I plan a story, I divide the outline into 3 acts. In a 2,000-word story, act 1 has 500 words, act 2 has 1,000, and act 3 has 500 more words to wind up the events. No matter the length of any story, if you know the intended word count, you can divide the plot outline that way.
Knowing my intended word count helps me create a story, from drabbles to novels. For me, it works in stories with a traditional arc as well as those with a circular arc.
In any story, the words we use to show the setting, combined with a strong theme, will convey atmosphere and mood, so fewer words are needed.
The story I’m using for today’s example is the Iron Dragon, a 1,025-word story I wrote during NaNoWriMo 2015. That was the year I focused on experimental writing, putting out at least one short story every day and sometimes two.
This is a story of the web of time glitching and the perceptions of the characters who experienced it.
Some speculative fiction stories work well as a double circular arc—something like an infinity sign, a figure-eight lying on its side: ∞
In a circular narrative, the story begins at point A, takes the protagonist through life-changing events, and brings them home, ending where it started. The starting and ending points are the same, and the characters return home, but they are fundamentally changed by the story’s events.
The infinity arc presents one story from two different viewpoints. The story begins with character 1, takes them through the events, and brings them back. At that point, the story takes up character 2 and retells the events through their point of view, bringing them back to where they began. (Two circular story arcs joined by one event.)
Both characters begin at the same place, experience the event(s) concurrently but separately, and arrive back at the same place. The worldview of both is challenged by what they have lived through.
The two characters may not meet. In the Iron Dragon, my characters physically don’t meet in person. However, they briefly occupy the same patch of ground during a glitch in the space-time continuum.
This story ends where it began but with the two sets of characters having seemingly experienced two different events. Their perception of the meeting is colored by the knowledge and superstitions of their respective eras.
The first paragraph of the Iron Dragon begins in the middle of a story—the center of the infinity sign. Those opening sentences establish the world, set the scene, and introduce the first protagonist. The following three paragraphs show the situation and establish the mood. They also introduce the antagonist—what appears to be an immense dragon made of iron.
At this point, our first protagonist knows that he must resolve the problem and protect his people, which he does. There is more to his side of the story, of course. But this is a story with two sides. Aeddan’s point of view is not the entire story.
Again, I had to set the scene and establish the mood and characters. Here, we meet the second protagonist, an engine driver named Owen. He has the same needs as Aeddan and also resolves the problem. Neither character would have understood the strange physics of what just occurred had Michio Kaku been around to explain it to them. Both do what they must to protect their people.
The final paragraphs wind it up. They also contribute to the overall atmosphere and setting of the second part of the story. As a practice piece, this story has good bones. I didn’t feel it was the right kind of story for submission to a magazine or contest, as it’s not a commercially viable piece. So, I posted it here on this blog on November 4th, 2016. #flashfictionfriday: The Iron Dragon
Word choices are essential in showing a world and creating a believable atmosphere when limited to only a small word count. I had challenged myself to write a story that told both sides of a frightening encounter in 1000 words, give or take a few. I wanted to expand on the theme of dragons and use it to show two aspects of a place whose national symbol is the Red Dragon (Welsh: Y Ddraig Goch).
But I also wanted to use the double circular story arc, seeing it as a way to tell one story as lived by two protagonists separated by twelve centuries and a multitude of legends. That meant I had 1000 words to tell two stories.
Short fiction allows us to experiment with both style and genre. It challenges us to build a world in only a few words and still tell a story with a beginning, a middle, and an end.
The act of writing something different, a little outside my comfort zone, forces me to be more imaginative in how I tell my stories. It makes me a better reader as well as a better writer.
Credits and Attributions:
Wikimedia Commons contributors, “File:Flag of Wales.svg,” Wikimedia Commons, https://commons.wikimedia.org/w/index.php?title=File:Flag_of_Wales.svg&oldid=808619174 (accessed November 19, 2023).
To meet Alfredo, Grandma, and Sylvia Wannamaker, Dan’s next adventure, The Elevator Pitch, is 
Knowing my intended word count helps me create a story, from drabbles to novels. For me, it works in stories with a traditional arc as well as those with a circular arc.
At this point, our first protagonist knows that he must resolve the problem and protect his people, which he does. There is more to his side of the story, of course. But this is a story with two sides. Aeddan’s point of view is not the entire story.
When a new writer decides to begin their career by embarking on writing a novel, the magnitude of the undertaking soon becomes apparent.
Writing a drabble takes less time than writing a 3,000-word story or a 70,000-word novel, but all writing is a time commitment. When writing a drabble, you can expect to spend an hour or more getting it to fit within the 100-word constraint.
I use a loose outline to break the arc of every story I write into acts, each with a specific word count. (I’ve included a graphic at the bottom of this post.)
I mentioned rewards in the title of this post. The completed story is a small gift you give yourself, and the surge of endorphins you experience in that moment of “Yes! I can write after all!” are the reward.
My answer is simple. We write short stories and submit them to magazines, anthologies, and contests.
If you have a story that was a contest winner, you may be able to sell it to the right publication.
Anthologies will close on a specific date, or after a certain number of submissions have been received.
These steps demonstrate your level of professionalism. Editors at magazines, contests, and publishing houses have no time to deal with unedited, poorly formatted manuscripts. Their inboxes are full of well-written and properly formatted work, so they will reject the amateurs without further consideration.
Narrative essays are drawn directly from real life, but they aren’t necessarily factual or accurate representations of events. They often detail a fictionalized experience or event that affected the author on a personal level.
Choose your words for impact! Writing with intentional prose is critical. A good essay has been put into an entertaining form that expresses far more than mere opinion. Narrative essays sometimes present deep, uncomfortable concepts but offer them in a way that the reader feels connected to the story.
And on that note, we must be realistic. Not everything you write will resonate with everyone you submit it to. Put two people in a room, hand them the most exciting thing you’ve ever read, and you’ll get two different opinions. They probably won’t agree with you.
Life in the Realm of Fantasy 