Now that we’ve passed the midpoint, things are starting to heat up in our story. The second half of the second act is where
your plot really starts popping. Your main character caps the dramatic event at the
midpoint with his decision to stop reacting and start acting. Almost always, this
is born of a personal revelation, even if the character can’t yet quite put it
into concrete terms. As of the midpoint, he’s becoming someone new. He’s
realizing his full power and stretching his wings to discover what he can do
with that power. His crippling inner problems are still getting in the way,
but, at the very least, he’s realizing that he has to do something either about
or in spite of them.

Because the second half of the second act will lead right
into the slugfest of the climax, this is the author’s last chance to get all
his playing pieces into position. We have to set up the line of dominoes that
will knock into the final major plot point at the 75% mark, and we do that by creating a series of actions from the main character. Although
he’s not likely to be in control of the situation, he’s at least moving forward
and calling a few shots of his own, instead of taking it and taking it from the
antagonistic force.
What is the second
half of the second act?
The second half of the second act begins (just as the first
half did) with a strong action from the character. He rises from the drama and
trauma of the midpoint and grits his teeth. He immediately responds with an
action that fights back. This can be a direct response to the antagonist, such
as Kel’s intensified attacks on the nobles in Brandon Sanderson’s Mistborn; an awakening from ignorance,
such as Prince Dastan’s search for the truth about the dagger in Prince of Persia; an intensified drive
toward the primary goal, such as the beginning of the Sparta Tournament in Warrior; or an inner squaring of the
shoulders, such as the return of the militia after an especially brutal attack
by the British, in The Patriot.
The series of actions in the second half of the second act
mirrors the series of reactions in the first half. In a sense, of course, the
character is still reacting (if you peer too closely at the
line between action and reaction, it can become blurry very quickly). But the
emphasis is on his own inner purpose now, rather than his need to raise his
shields and duck his head. He’s not in control of his destiny, but
at least now he’s trying to do something about his lack of control.
Where does the second
half of the second act belong?
The second half of the second act begins with the midpoint
and spans 25% of the book to the beginning of the climax at the 75% mark. This
is a good chunk of the book, and the character needs every bit of that space to
get himself in gear. He has lessons to learn and problems to face, so that
he’ll be ready to confront the antagonistic forces (both inner and outer) in the
climax. Don’t skimp on this part of the story. But also be wary of having him
change too much after the midpoint.
His final personal crisis will occur in the climax, and you don’t want to
lessen the impact of that moment by allowing the character to fix himself up
too soon. Use this part of the book to prep him for his final battle and
foreshadow the inner demons he’ll have to face.
Examples from film
and literature
As always, the masterpieces of talented storytellers can
teach us boatloads about how to apply this important element of structure to
our own stories. Let’s take a look at our chosen books and movies.
Pride & Prejudice by Jane Austen (1813): After being pushed
completely off balance by Darcy’s proposal and subsequent justification of his
other supposed misdeeds, Lizzy spends the second half of the second act realizing she’s
misjudged him and that, indeed, she’s falling in love with him. Her actions in
this segment take place more on an internal platform than an external one. She
is actively realizing her mistakes and owning up to them (first privately and then
more or less publicly in her attempts to treat him with respect and kindness
when they accidentally meet at Pemberley). This is a good example of how the
second half of the second act can be used primarily as a time of catalytic
epiphany and self-realization.
It’s a Wonderful Life directed by Frank Capra (1947): After
spurning Old Man Potter’s attempts to buy him off, George comes to grips with
his life in Bedford Falls and moves forward. He and Mary have four children,
and he remains home during World War II (“4F on account of his ear”) and
continues to protect his town from Potter’s avarice and manipulation. Thanks to
his renewed commitment to the Bailey Building & Loan, in the aftermath of
Potter’s failed attempts to corrupt him, George is able to put his life into
pretty good order during this second half of the story. Of course, viewers
already know this is only the calm before the storm of the climax.
Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card (1977): After having the
misfit Dragon Army dumped on him at the midpoint, Ender spends the second half
of the second act rising to the challenge. He knows he’s been put at an unfair
advantage, and he knows Graff and the other instructors are deliberately
testing him by pitting him against other, more powerful students. But instead
of caving to the pressure, Ender squares his shoulders and rises to the
challenge. Thanks to his refusal to stand down, Dragon Army becomes the best
army in Battle School.
Master & Commander: The Far Side of the World directed by Peter
Weir (2004): After finally finding himself in a position to track down the Acheron, Captain Jack Aubrey’s series of
actions in the second half of the second act take him down a surprising road,
when his best friend, surgeon and spy Stephen Maturin, is accidentally shot. For
the first time in the film, Jack chooses to break free of his obsessive pursuit
of the Acheron, in order to take
Stephen to dry land where he can be operated on in order to save his life.
Takeaway value
The second half of the second act offers more possibilities
for variation than perhaps any other segment of structure in the story (and
that’s saying a lot!). Let’s reexamine the possibilities, so we can then
apply them to our own stories.
1. The second
half of the second act begins with the dramatic turning point at the 50% mark.
2. The midpoint
begins a series of actions on the main character’s part. Even though he’s likely
still reacting in a sense, he’s no longer reacting from a place of ignorance.
He’s no longer entirely on the defensive without the ability to attack in his
own right.
3. This segment
is often a place of revelation for the main character. He sees things—himself
as much as the antagonist—more clearly after the midpoint.
4. His actions
can be as much a period of inner revelations as actual aggression against the
antagonist. Sometimes his attack on the antagonist is actually nothing more
than a complete and deliberate ignoring
of the antagonist.
5. Some of his
problems will be resolved in this section, but the major problems—both inner
and outer—will remain to be solved during the climax. Often, the problems that are solved in this section only serve to
exacerbate or bring clearer focus to the true underlying conflicts.
_________________
Click the “Play” button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Wordplay podcast in iTunes).
Story by K.M. Weiland
Tags:
action
,
Feature
,
middles
,
midpoint
,
reaction
,
second act
,
secrets of story structure
,
story structure
,
SYN
This is such a great series of posts. Knowing these key points of your story before you start writing really helps keep your plot moving. I so wish I would have known all this before I wrote my first book. It would have saved me years of revising.
One of the simultaneously great and frustrating things about writing is that there is always more to learn. Every new book has new lessons to teach us. I'm glad you're enjoying the series!
This series is so great. Thank you for writing it! :D I'm bookmarking every one of these posts! :)
So glad you're enjoying them and finding them useful!
Fabulous post. The middle or second act is a large chunk to be concerned with and it's made easier by helpful advice like yours. I don't usually analyze my stories, but I'm finding with your posts, I'm checking into them, saying, yes, yes, this goes here, this happens here, and so on. Thank you for the lessons.
Being able to analyze and recognize structure elements within our own stories after they're written is actually one of the best ways to solidify the structure format in our heads. If we can see what we're already doing right, it's easier to just keep doing it right in future stories.
Katie, you are an infinite source of wisdom )
Katie, the best part of this series of posts is the blow-by-blow deconstructions of familiar stories along with your expositions. A fantastic resource.
@Grigory: Thanks for reading!
@Terry: Thanks, Terry! Deconstructing and analyzing successful stories is the best way to learn structure. Talking about acts and plot points is all fine and well, but it's difficult to really grasp the concept until we see it in action.