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vivsinkpot · 26 days ago

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First things first, I really really enjoy your articles. Thank you so much for the time you invest in helping other writers.

My next thing - I'd like to request two articles: a first chapter checklist similar to how you did the "Unforgettable First Line" and just a general checklist or how-to for any chapter in the book (same thing, similar to the "Unforgettable First Line). I mention the second one, because I feel like I want to apply everything you write to my whole book, not just my first chapter. It not be prudent (or beneficial) to both of them without repeating yourself unnecessarily. So, maybe just the second one with little notes about what to include in the first chapter or how that chapter is different.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

How to Structure Body Chapters in a Novel (and Why the First and Last Chapters Are Different Creatures Entirely)

“If the first chapter invites the reader in and the last chapter releases them, the body chapters are where they fall in love.”

THE FIRST AND LAST CHAPTERS: FRAMING THE EXPERIENCE

Before we dive into the middle, let’s look at the bookends. Because the first and last chapters aren’t just part of the plot—they’re emotional architecture.

🗝️ The First Chapter

Sets tone, mood, voice, world

Introduces character and their starting point

Hints at conflict or tension

Raises a question the reader wants answered

Often begins in a moment of unbalance or transition

Feels like: “You’re here now. Something’s about to begin.”

Scene 1: Introduce the protagonist & tone. Let the world breathe.

Scene 2: Show tension. A moment of instability, shift, or choice.

Scene 3: End with a question, discovery, or door opening.

It’s less about “what happens” and more about “how it feels.”

🕊️ The Final Chapter

Resolves (or intentionally leaves unresolved) core emotional threads

Echoes the beginning — mirrors, reversals, closure

Shows how the character has changed (or failed to)

Often slows down or sharpens in focus — a final breath or cut

Feels like: “Here’s where we leave them.”

Scene 1: Let the world settle. Mirror the beginning.

Scene 2: Reflect, choose, or change. Emotional resolution.

Scene 3: Leave on a lingering image, line, or question.

You might tie the plot knot, but the emotional resolution is what truly ends a story.

SO WHAT ABOUT THE BODY CHAPTERS?

Think of the middle of your book as a chain of emotional shifts that gradually rewire your protagonist from who they were to who they become.

Each chapter must do something to:

• Shift character dynamics

• Complicate the conflict

• Introduce consequence

• Build momentum

Let’s break it into a model you can use again and again.

STRUCTURING A BODY CHAPTER

(The 5-Part Micro-Arc Formula)

Most body chapters work best when they feel self-contained but unfinished — like a heartbeat in a larger rhythm.

1. THE HOOK (Start with tension)

Begin in motion or on the verge of it

Ground us with setting and POV

Introduce an obstacle, mood, or question early

Example:

“The last person she wanted to see was already waiting at the gate.”

2. THE OBJECTIVE (What do they want?)

Show your protagonist (or another focal character) trying to do or get something

This gives the scene direction

Even if it’s small: a conversation, an object, forgiveness, escape, proof

3. THE OBSTACLE (Why can’t they get it?)

Something goes wrong.

The conflict escalates.

Someone lies, leaves, or lashes out.

The character makes a mistake or faces a new truth.

This is your turning point. It’s why this chapter exists.

4. THE SHIFT (What’s changed by the end?)

A relationship dynamic shifts

A secret is revealed

The stakes rise

The character’s mindset changes

This is the emotional heartbeat. Even if nothing explodes, something must shift.

5. THE CLOSER (Why do we keep reading?)

Leave on tension, revelation, irony, dread, or a decision

Plant a question, image, or threat

Pull the reader toward the next chapter like a current

Examples:

“She looked down at her hands. And for the first time, they were shaking.”

“The door clicked shut behind him. He hadn’t said goodbye.”

TIPS FOR BODY CHAPTERS:

1. Ask: “Why does this chapter matter emotionally?”

If it’s just moving plot around, consider condensing it. Emotion is what makes a chapter memorable.

2. Every chapter is a negotiation.

Characters should want something — and be thwarted, delayed, or redirected.

3. Use a mirror structure occasionally.

Begin and end with a repeated image or phrase.

Start with a lie, end with a truth.

Start together, end apart.

This makes a chapter feel crafted.

4. Don’t resolve everything.

Let some threads tangle. The best chapters end with emotional echo.

A QUICK STRUCTURE YOU CAN STEAL:

[Chapter Outline Template]

Scene 1: Introduce location/character/mood shift

Scene 2: Present goal + obstacle

Scene 3: Conflict escalates / reveal / shift

Scene 4: Aftermath (emotion, reflection, tension)

Final Line: Pull us forward with a question, decision, or image

You can expand or condense this for pacing—but keeping this flow in mind helps anchor your chapter arcs.

IN SUMMARY:

The first chapter invites us in.

The last chapter lets us go.

The body chapters make us stay.

Each one should shift something — mood, relationship, tension, desire. That’s how you keep the reader falling forward.

👩‍🏫 Your Challenge:

Pick a body chapter from your WIP and write a one-sentence summary for each of the five micro-arc parts: Hook, Objective, Obstacle, Shift, Closer.

Thank you so much for the request! If I’ve missed anything or misunderstood the ask please let me know! 💕

#writeblr #writing community #writers of tumblr #writing tips #creative writing #vivsinkpot #amwriting #writing advice #novel writing #story structure #chapter structure #bookblr #how to write #writing resources #writing help #tumblrs writers #prose craft #long form fiction #vivwrites

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trensu · 1 year ago

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Heyyy, long time no post, huh? I'm dropping another chunk of stasis in darkness for you guys! And I wanted to remind people that these posts are basically rough drafts. The final product will hopefully be more polished but in the meantime please enjoy!

After Steve convinced the old man he meant no harm, he’d been allowed into the home. The Lord of Night hadn’t been super specific about the purpose of his quest, only that Steve had to bring him to Wayne Munson. Steve discreetly looked around the home as he entered it. The old man was obviously unwell and had been for a while, given the state of the house. Steve had the creeping suspicion that the time limit the Lord of Night mentioned was linked to the man’s health.

“What are you doing?” Wayne Munson asked suspiciously once he had returned to the kitchen with Steve in tow. He had sat heavily in one of the old worn chairs at the table but Steve, instead of joining him, began to clear the table on impulse. Steve halted awkwardly.

“This ain’t your house, boy,” Wayne said with a scowl. “I can take care of myself.”

Steve did his very best not to look at the scattered mess in the kitchen or living room. It was not the mess of a dirty, careless person. It was the mess of someone tired and overwhelmed. It was the mess of someone in pain who was too proud to ask for help. Steve took in Wayne Munson’s watery eyes, wan skin, and the clothes that were plain things, tattered from use, but mostly stain-free. Steve quickly added all these details and came up with a plan of attack. He set the plate back down.

“Yes, sir,” Steve agreed easily. “I’m aware, but I serve the Lord of Night and he sent me to you specifically. In our god’s name, I must assist you in any way I can.”

Wayne’s expression wavered. Steve pushed again. He lowered his gaze in a slightly embarrassed manner, letting a note of uncertainty color his words.

“I don’t know what else to do until nightfall,” Steve said. He rubbed the back of his neck bashfully. “I don’t want him to think I’ve neglected you.”

“What happens at nightfall?” Wayne asked.

“It’s when the Lord of Night wants to see you,” Steve said. Wayne blinked.

“Me? He wants to see me?”

“Yeah! So, if you could please let me,” Steve said, putting on his most endearing smile, “I’d like to take care of you until then. You know, make sure you’re comfortable and get the place ready for a divine visit. If it’s not too much trouble, sir?”

“Uh, no, that should be fine. Is…is there anything I should do?” Wayne asked dazedly.

“Not really. All I know is he really wants to see you tonight. Oh, maybe you’d like to rest until then? A nap, so you’re not drowsy when he arrives.”

Wayne nods, still in shock at the news. He didn’t protest when Steve helped him out of the chair and let him lean his weight on him as they navigated to the bedroom. Wayne sat on the bed as Steve drew curtains closed over the room’s single window. The curtains were thick enough to dim the sun to a pale yellow glow.

“I didn’t know there was anyone else who followed him,” Wayne said as he lay himself down over the covers.

"He told me you’re the only one left, besides me,” Steve told him. “And I only discovered him a month ago by accident.”

“By accident?” Wayne asked with a wry grin.

“My friends found a holy text when we were researching other gods. It was the only one of his in the city's whole library. Then we had a hell of a time trying to find his last shrine. When I finally found it, it was falling apart. He’s been forgotten,” Steve said. At Wayne’s troubled expression, he hurriedly added, “But now that I’ve pledged myself to him, I’m going to make sure people know him again.”

Wayne did not appear convinced, but he finally settled to rest after Steve promised to wake him before sunset. Steve took the opportunity to clean. He hadn’t been lying to Wayne when he said he wasn’t sure what to do until nightfall. It didn’t help that Steve also liked to keep himself busy. Being idle made him itch.

The house was small. Aside from Wayne's bedroom, there was only a cramped kitchen and a modest living room. From the small window of the backdoor, Steve could see a short, worn path to an outhouse.

Given the size of the house, though there was a mess everywhere, it didn’t take Steve very long to clean it all. When it was done to his satisfaction, there were still a few hours left until sunset so he wandered outside. The porch railing was covered with broad green leaves from intertwining vines but Steve left that alone when he saw the small garden nearby. It was full of ripe vegetables that Steve assumed Wayne had been unable to pick himself given his condition.

By the time Steve had picked the vegetables, pulled the weeds, and watered the garden, the sun hung low in the horizon. He cleaned himself up the best he could in the kitchen sink and took one of the chairs from the table to the bedroom before waking Wayne.

He told Wayne what he accomplished during Wayne’s repose. While Wayne expressed his gratitude politely enough, it was still apparent to Steve that the old man was irritated at having needed the assistance at all. To keep Wayne from dwelling on that, as well as to satisfy his own curiosity, he coaxed Wayne into conversation.

“Can I ask, uh, how you–I mean, how did you know? How did you know the Lord of Night existed?"

Wayne laughed at Steve’s befuddled tone. The laugh turned into a coughing fit. Steve quickly fetched him a glass of water and put it on the bedside table after Wayne had a drink.

“My family’s a bunch of no-good criminals,” Wayne croaked. “Were. It’s only me now. But before, each generation of Munsons took it up. Like a family tradition.”

“Criminals?” asked Steve cautiously.

“Thieves and con men. Some ladies of the night, if you catch my meaning. They knew of our Lord of Night and passed the knowledge down,” Wayne sighed sadly. “The life of a criminal ain’t what you call stable. We lost bits and pieces of him with every generation. Like his name. No one’s known his name for a very long time. Is that why he wants to see me? Did I fail him?”

There was genuine distress in Wayne’s question so Steve hid his disappointment. He had hoped the Lord of Night’s last worshiper would at least have a clue about where to start the search for the lost name. He focused, instead, on reassuring the old man.

“I don’t know why he wants to see you, but he wasn’t angry when he sent me. He sounded excited.”

“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Wayne said uncertainly.

“Definitely,” Steve assured. Before Wayne could sink into his gloom again, Steve said, “I know you said you’ve lost some knowledge, but do you know if the Lord of Night has any prayers? I haven’t…I mean, I’ve tried to worship him but I don’t think I can do it right without a prayer. I’m kind of new at all this.”

“My ma used to say our Lord didn’t have patience for formalities,” Wayne said, brow furrowed. “They bored him so he only had a few official prayers. There was one where we’d thank him for any dreams he gave us. I think there was another one that asked for dreams to bring inspiration or something of that sort. I don’t really remember those–ma would be boxing my ears for that if she was still around. I remember the one for protection, since we used that one a lot. It goes:

Lord of Night, Guide us through all phases Of the moon; May the dark be free of All dangers, While your many stars burn.

Wayne’s voice cracked into a coughing fit near the end. Steve hurriedly offered him water again once Wayne had caught it again. Wayne took a few mouthfuls and repeated the prayer again so Steve could learn it. It took a few tries, but Wayne was patient and by the end of it, Steve had it memorized.

“Is that the only one?” Steve asked, hoping to learn more. Wayne grimaced.

“It’s the only one I really remember. The Lord of Night prefers stories. My ma would tell us the best bedtime stories. Said they were for our god as much as for me and my brother. I was never good at coming up with new stories, so I retell my favorites or tell our Lord about my days and give him a little offering.”

Steve wasn't much of a story teller. He supposed he could do as Wayne did until he met up with Robin and Dustin again. They constantly chatted about books they’d read. Steve couldn’t help but notice how, once again, his friends seemed a better fit for his god than he was; all Steve could give his god was his shield and sword. It was discouraging. He had to figure out a way to make up for it somehow.

“What kind of offerings?” Steve asked.

He wanted to give his god more; he wanted to give the Lord of Night something he’d actually like. It wasn’t lost on him that the Lord of Night took him under duress. Who else would’ve been able to complete this quest?

“When I was young, it was horse shoes,” Wayne chuckled at Steve’s confusion. “Thieves are supposed to give him a part of their loot but my ma and pa were horse thieves. They got horseshoes and would leave one for each horse they stole, tied with a braid made of the stolen horse’s mane.”

“You stole horses?” Steve said, unable to fight off a grin as he remembered the conversation he had with the Lord of Night about it.

“Me and my brother, before he passed,” Wayne said with a weak nod.

The sky had darkened by now. Steve pulled the stone out of his satchel. He carefully unwrapped it from the cloth and set it gently on the bedside table next to the glass of water. Wayne eyed it quizzically.

“It’s from his shrine,” Steve explained. Without any further fussing, Steve stood up and went to the door.

“Don’t leave,” the Lord of Night said.

Steve turned to see the god, hooded in his cloak of constellations, sitting in the chair Steve had vacated. The Lord of Night had not even glanced Steve's way when he spoke to him. The god’s attention rested solely on Wayne.

Steve hadn’t seen or spoken to the Lord of Night since he’d been accepted as his holy warrior. The god had needed to conserve his energy, he explained to Steve, so that Steve could complete his quest. The god’s cloak was as mesmerizing as the first time. However, this far from the shrine, the god did not look as solid as he had during the nights he spent with Steve.

“I wanted to give you two some privacy,” Steve said softly.

“I think Wayne would appreciate not being alone,” the Lord of Night said.

The old man stared at the god unblinkingly. Wayne’s expression was one of awe and fear, so Steve did as he was told and stayed in the room though he chose to lean on the wall furthest from the pair. He was still close to them in the tiny bedroom, but it provided the pretense of privacy.

“My Lord?” Wayne’s voice was barely audible.

“Hello. I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” the god said.

#trensu tells stories #steddie #stasis in darkness #stranger things #i'm gonna be honest #i absolutely have no idea how prayers are structured and i've got like zero experience in poetry #i do NOT like how the prayer turned out but #i did my best okay?#steve is so eager to use holy words #i had to give him SOMETHING #also #i'm starting to think i should've been like numbering these posts or something #but it's not like they're actual chapters or have a consistent length yknow?#so idk

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