Calling a story “complex” is a high compliment. But what is complexity? How can we learn how to write stories that are complex—without skidding across that narrow dividing line into complicated? What’s the difference between a complex story and a complicated story? And is your story too complicated?
This a topic I’ve spent quite some time contemplating in recent years (not least because one of the major reasons my fantasy WIP went off the rails was my realization in revisions that it was just too complicated). A few weeks ago, in the post entitled “How to Structure Stories With Multiple Characters,” I mentioned in passing that:
One of the most powerful guidelines for any author is to “honor simplicity.” This doesn’t mean you can’t write stories of deep complexity, but it does mean you should never confuse complex with complicated.
This comment sparked a conversation in the comments of that post, in which Lila Diller asked:
Could you define more clearly what you mean about the difference between complex & complicated?
And so a post (or two posts, actually) was born. Today, I want to talk about several of the most common culprits for complicated stories. Next week, we’ll talk about how you can bring desired complexity into your work-in-progress.
What Is a Complicated Story?
What’s the difference between “complex” and “complicated”? As I mentioned in my original response to Lila’s question, I like to think of “complex” as “many streams all leading to the sea.” Meanwhile, “complicated” is more akin to “many streams leading to many different seas.” Both are the result of “many parts,” but complexity brings unity to the overall whole by connecting more of those parts, while a complicated story is one in which those many parts don’t quite come together to create a single effect.
9 Examples of Complicated Stories
There are many different ways, we can complicate our stories. Here are nine that come to my mind.
1. A Plot in Which the Structural Beats Are All About Different Things
Structuring Your Novel (Amazon affiliate link)
Ideally, your story’s structural throughline (as revealed by its major structural beats) will show continuity. Even if your story is vast and sprawling with a large cast, the structural throughline should be cohesive and focused. You don’t want to see the First Plot Point focusing on the conflict with the antagonist, the Midpoint focusing on a relationship subplot, and the Third Plot Point veering away to put the spotlight on a supporting character.
Iron Man 3 offers an example of a story that over-complicates itself because its structural beats aren’t all focusing on the main plot. (Read more about that here.) (Iron Man 3 (2013), Marvel Studios.)
2. A Story Featuring Varied Themes That Don’t Support Each Other
Writing Your Story’s Theme (Amazon affiliate link)
Theme is often one of the most complex aspects of a story. It offers the opportunity to add layers of depth and interest to an exploration of any single topic. However, to create a unified effect, all the sub-themes should support a single overarching thematic principle.
The easiest way to identify your story’s primary thematic principle is to examine your protagonist’s character arc. Look at the thematic Lie and Truth he will be interacting with throughout the story and especially in the Climactic Moment.
You don’t want your supporting characters’ arcs to focus on unrelated themes. For example, complications are likely to arise if your protagonist’s story is about seeking justice, while your antagonist’s story is about dealing with a midlife crisis and the love interest’s focus is on getting out of debt.
The Last Jedi was scattered in its structural throughline and, as a result, lacked any cohesive thematic emergence from amongst its many subplots. (Read more about that here.) (Star Wars: The Last Jedi (2017), Lucasfilm Ltd.)
3. A Setting That Is Scattered or Unfocused
Although not the most egregious offender, a scattered sense of setting can exacerbate the feeling that a story is complicated. A tight control of setting (with an eye on thematic intent) will benefit any story. Even in stories that intentionally cover a lot of ground, you’ll want a unifying factor—a pertinent reason why the characters are in these settings.
For example, setting-hopping stories such as those in the James Bond and Mission: Impossible franchises are, in fact, built around the idea of an international setting, which makes it all seem much less random than if, say, Elizabeth Bennett decided to take a quick vacation to Lisbon.
Martin Chuzzlewit offers a notorious example of a random and unnecessary setting, thanks to a lengthy section in which author Charles Dickens shoehorned his title character into a grueling tour of the United States. (Martin Chuzzlewit (1994), BBC2.)
4. A Story Featuring Too Many Characters Filling the Same Type of Role
One of the easiest ways to complicate a story is by adding unnecessary characters. This is especially true when you have multiple characters performing essentially the same role in the story.
For instance, ask yourself how many friends does your protagonist have? If there are several, do they really all play a fundamentally different role within the story? Or are Friends #2 and #3 just adding noise (aka, complications)?
Particularly examine how many antagonists your story offers. Although multiple antagonists can, in fact, add complexity (as we’ll talk about next week), they can also unnecessarily complicate a story. Look at your Climax. The characters who are important in the Climax are the characters who are important to the story. This doesn’t mean you have to axe everyone else, but this understanding will give you an idea of which characters may, in fact, be extraneous.
Spider-Man 3 notoriously sunk itself under the complicating deadweight of three major antagonists, when it would have done much better to have given due diligence to just one. (Spider-Man 3 (2007), Columbia Pictures.)
5. A Character Who Is Trying to Form Goals Based on Too Many Motivations
We want to write complex characters whose motivations are equally multifaceted. But when the protagonist’s reasons for wanting to kill the antagonist are based on the fact that the bad guy killed her boyfriend and on the fact that she had a bad experience with a serial killer when she was nine and on the fact that the antagonist reminds her the bully she hated in high school, it can all start feeling a bit convoluted and overdone.
I found the motivations of characters in the adaptation of The Witcher to be scattered and unconvincing. Yennefer in particular went from a motivation based on a tight and convincing backstory to having more motivations than I could count—all of which were primary motivations at different times. (The Witcher (2019-), Netflix.)
6. A Magic System Influenced by Multiple Metaphors
This one is, obviously, going to be pertinent only to speculative fiction such as sci-fi and fantasy, but it’s an important one. One thing most of the best fantasy stories have in common is a cohesive magic system. This doesn’t necessarily mean it has to be as high concept as, say, Brandon Sanderson’s Allomancy in Mistborn (in which different types of metal grant different types of magical powers). But particularly since you will have to explain the details of a magic system to readers, you don’t want to over-complicate its basic physics.
The Magic System Blueprint by C.R. Rowenson (affiliate link)
The late Blake Snyder called this “double mumbo jumbo.” Basically: if the main metaphor for your magic system is “weather,” you don’t want magic users also drawing power from runes or ghosts or some such. (C.R. Rowenson offers an excellent system for creating cohesive magic systems of all types in his book The Magic Blueprint System.)
7. A Story With “Tonal Whiplash”
A story’s tone will set up much of your readers’ experience. If that tone jerks all over the place, it can quickly give them whiplash. This is a problem in its own right, but it can also make an already problematic story feel even more complicated. This isn’t to say a dark story can’t offer moments of tenderness or humor, or that a light story can’t occasionally break your heart. But the tone itself should remain consistent in telling readers what this story is about.
Baz Luhrman’s Australia opens as if it is a lighthearted romantic comedy, gets viewers settled into that, then takes several ninety degree turns into totally new tonal directions—which is not so much a cause as a symptom of its complicated plot. (Read more about that here.) (Australia (2008), 20th Century Fox.)
8. A Story With Disorganized POVs
Common sense tells us that the fewer POVs a story features, the less complicated it will be. And yet common sense also tells us that adding POVs (and even plotlines) can be a good way to add complexity.
So which is it?
It all depends on how the author manages those POVs. Random POVs (which can be caused by narratives that head-hop, narrators introduced late in the story, or narrators who are utilized for only a single scene) will often contribute to a more “ragged” feel for the overall narrative.
On the other hand, a controlled use of POV, in which narrators are carefully chosen not just for their viewpoint but for their thematic importance, and in which transitions are thoughtfully timed with respect to the overall structure and “shape” of the story, can create an organized feel in even the most complex stories.
9. A Story Featuring Plotlines or Characters Who Don’t Come Together in the End
Finally, we have what is probably the worst offender to the charge of a “complicated story.” Many of the above mentioned complications won’t necessarily sink a story all on their own. And audiences will often hold their patience until the end and forgive any loose ends if the finale satisfies them.
If, however, your story’s multiple plotlines and/or many characters do not all come together in the end in a way that feels satisfying, that’s a clear sign you were trying to juggle too many balls and couldn’t catch them all in the end. If you find that either you can’t tie off all your loose ends by the Climax and/or that the only way to do so is to cop to coincidences and contrivances, you’ll want to pull back and examine some of the previous points in this list to see where maybe you can trim out elements that aren’t contributing to the bottom line.
Jupiter Ascending was full of lots of interesting plotlines and teasers—almost none of which were pertinent to the ending or, in some cases. even explained. (Read more about that here.) (Jupiter Ascending (2015), Warner Bros.)
***
There are, of course, many other ways a story can complicate itself, but this list is a good place to start. The main difference between a story that is “complicated” and one that is “complex” is simply that the complicated story doesn’t work and the complex one does because it is able to bring all its pieces together into a seamless finale that makes sense.
Stay Tuned: Next week, we will look at how to successfully deepen your story with desirable complexity.
Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! Can you think of any more ways in which a story may complicate itself unnecessarily? Tell me in the comments!
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About K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland
Another amazing article, thank you so much! I am currently in the final phase of finishing my 1st draft on a novel and keep catching myself wondering: “Should I just eliminate this character?” “Wouldn’t it be better if I just cut this subplot/location/flashback/scene”? “Why bother with all this stuff if I’m gonna throw it all out during rewrites/editing anyway.”
So yeah, I’m afraid of things getting too complicated and confusing (and long). However this article has kind of reinforced my original instict that many (probably not all) of those elements do have their rightful place in the story because they do all work in the same direction, aim for the same ultimate plot goal, support the theme or flesh out things like the world and magic system. And, of course I’m indebted to you and your previous articles for even having this awareness of cohesiveness and “making every element matter”.
One “tactic” I have sort of developed for myself is to check in with my characters (usually in form of dialogue between the PoV character and their close confidantes) after scenes or big events/changes in the story and spell out in that discussion for the characters (and the reader) what whatever just happened means for how to go forward, how it affects their goal and how to get there. I might throw out those “reviews/briefings” later or drastically shorten them, but it really helps me make sure that whatever happened in the preceeding scene a) actually mattered and b) how does this affect whatever comes next. And if there’s no clear answer (or the characters themselves are “confused”) then something probably went really wrong 🙂
That’s a good technique. As you say, it won’t always be appropriate to leave scenes like that in the final version of the book, but that kind of exercise can be so helpful for the writer in gut-checking what they’ve written.
Brilliant insights here – nicely encapsulates the problems and solutions. I think it’s useful to note that some of the problems can remain within a story as long the writer is rigorous in simplifying other aspects.
For instance there’s one author who successfully works many multiple POVs into his stories – and that’s Mick Heron. His Slow Horses contemporary espionage books are brilliant. The POV shifts are rapid and often – verging on head hopping – but usually not within one scene… but sometimes. He does not use a chapter structure because the POVs are so short.
But somehow it all hangs together. His books do so because the telling of the tale is orchestrated to move a single plot forward. Every POV conveys important information that is necessary to the story. The tone is unifying – consistently bleak, funny, macabre, and insightful. All the POVs convey unique characters, so you can tell which character’s head you’re in by the nature of the character’s thoughts – a bit of work required by the readers results in more engaged reading somehow.
It’s all fascinating how he breaks the rules and gets away with it. A lot like the characters that populate his books… or mostly get away with it. Like I said – macabre. Read them – in order. A lot of lessons to learn there in how to deal with complexity without falling into complication.
Very true. In themselves, none of the problems I’ve mentioned are categorically going to break a book. It’s when the problems pile up that we run into problems. Dickens, for example, was notorious for his use of coincidences for bringing all his many pieces together in stories. In some instances, such as the one I mention in the post from Martin Chuzzlewit, the pieces still don’t come together. In others, the stories work anyway because he’s able to make the ending work.
Thank you for another clarifying post, Katie! I’m writing draft number five of the first novel of a planned trilogy and have certainly struggled with several of the 9 examples you provide. I’m looking forward to its sequel next week 🙂
Recognizing the problems in your own work is the hardest part, so you’re already past that!
Oh how I understand complicated! It’s the complex, with few characters, that intrigues me; try as I might I just haven’t garnered knowledge or talent or…. but finally maybe hopeful.
Writing a simple story well is no easy feat. If we can learn to do that, we’re already way ahead of the curve. True complexity often comes of its accord, I find. At any rate, I’ll be discussing some helpful tools for creating complexity in next week’s post.
Thanks, looking forward!
I use the rule of thumb that the characters need to be complicated, but the plot needs to be simple. Many writers get that backwards.
I like that.
Yes, I agree with you regarding Yennifer in The Witcher adaptation having too many motivations. I also find all the different groups with various magical powers a bit bewildering. Then there’s the well-discussed mixing of timelines in season one.
Anyway, the visuals, the action and the well-trained British actors held my interest enough to help me work through the story.
Why are British actors so good in these fantasy roles? It can’t just be the accent. The Witcher seems to be an incidental campaign to make Henry Cavill the next James Bond.
I couldn’t make it through Season 2. I liked the book but thought the adaptation was a hot (pun not intended) mess. 😉
Great list. I knew those films/shows didn’t work for me. Thank you for explaining why!
Thanks for reading!
“As I mentioned in my original response to Lila’s question, I like to think of “complex” as “many streams all leading to the sea.” Meanwhile, “complicated” is more akin to “many streams leading to many different seas.”” <- That's a great metaphor.
In one of my WIP, there's a character who, in my heart, needs to be axed because the role she plays is too similar to another character. There's a reason I made them separate characters in the first place–I originally envisioned them as showing two sides of a particular force–but at this point, I can see that the extra nuance the second character brings doesn't justify the extra complication (especially since she only appears in one scene). A darling to kill, sigh. I'll have to adjust the other character so she can fulfill both parts, but it'll be easier for the reader to have one less character to keep track of.
Those are tough darlings to get rid of. Sometimes how we envision something working out and how it actually works out are very different. But by the time we realize we have to cut something, it’s so entwined in the story that it’s a tricky mess to extricate.
In my current WIP-two things happen one of my characters gets killed by an unknown illness and the other is taken by a shapeshifter. I may put only 16 characters in story.
Do you have a list for self-publishing?
I’ve talked about my process for self-publishing here: https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/steps-to-self-publish-your-book/
Thanks for stopping by!
Your articles are far more valuable than any college courses I can think of, and I don’t have to go anywhere or pay tuition. 🙂 For a mostly self-taught author, your posts are very helpful, thank you.
You’re very kind. So glad you’re enjoying them! 🙂
Thank you! Great advice here.
Thanks for commenting! 🙂
I would just like to say how much I appreciate you sharing your knowledge.
Great to hear you’re finding it useful. 🙂
Oh, I needed this! Some of my readers have chided me for ‘complicated’ plots. First I realized that these were the ‘friends of the author’ who just read them cuz they love me, not because they read science fiction or thrillers, the complicated-plots genres. Then I decided to give up worrying even the little bit that I’d been, because they all said ‘…but I really like the end.’ So I knew I was probably OK, even before Katie the Maestro explained it all. NOW I have things to look out for – looking forward to the next one too!!
In my own experience of having friends or family read genres in which they are not experienced readers: take their comments with a grain of salt. This isn’t to say ignore their recommendations, but hold them lightly until they are confirmed by other readers who understand the genre.
Amen, LOL. What’s especially funny to me is that the folks who find my books on Amazon Unlimited have all been ‘but I never read science fiction’ people. So I appear to appeal to readers who don’t read the genre. It’s all funny….
That’s cool!
Over-complicating is something I often do. In pursuit of complexity, I tend to ignore any kind of warning lights that go off in my brain. And by the time I realize it, I’m waist-deep in a pile of subplots, useless side characters, and dead-end rabbit trails. I’ll definitely keep all of these points in mind, and I’m looking forward to next week’s post, as well!
Totally. Over-complicating goes along with overthinking, so I am well-versed in it. 😉
This is excellent advice! In the pursuit of creating something realistic, I have given too many motivations to one character. I convinced myself it was depth, but it was ultimately just confusing for me and the reader. Thanks for sharing these tips! Glad to know what else I can look out for in my writing.
Glad it was useful! And, yes, when we’re confusing ourselves that’s usually a good sign we need to pull back and reexamine–because better us now than readers later! 😉
Great article. I had been wondering if a character I added and his subplot made the story more complicated. I made him integral to the plot and it ended up being a surprise at the end. After reading your post, i realize my story needed him. He also serves the theme as a foil for the protagonist. Thanks.
That’s awesome. Love it when it works out like that!
This is very timely, because I realized recently that I think I lead characters in wrong direction and reached a dead end. Over complicated with too many sub characters. Working to get out out of it now. Thanks for the advice.
Yes, large casts of characters can cause lots of troubles in the end. :p
I have a WIP where the timeline is bringing me to the point of abandoning it. The story is about how the hero and antagonist handle the same issue, which is violence and its associated guilt (they’re both young naval officers). The main plot line keeps the issue of violence centre-stage. But what happened in the past, an inciting event and the impacts it has already had over several years, is essential to frame the main plotline. So .. time shifts .. flashbacks .. backstory .. temporal POV .. memory .. how to manage the world of the story, which needs the context of years, even though the main story happens over the course of a few months. I have both complexity and complication .. and just difficult problems to solve!
should maybe add, it’s historical fiction, so there are constraints imposed by historical events some of which can’t be messed about with
Yes, once you add in external constraints, like historical events, what is already complex can turn into a nightmare. This is one of the reasons i moved from historical fiction to fantasy! :p
lol .. thank you for those words of encouragement!
I managed it once, years ago, with a novel set in Africa in the 1960s, but this one is tying me in knots. I just thought there might be some mileage in considering time frames as a complicator.
Your story sounds interesting!
I don’t know much about historical fiction unfortunately, so I can’t offer any specific advice, but I will offer this: Don’t give up. That’s the mistake I keep making. I’ve found that whether you’re looking for them or not, the right ideas will always come to you—but they’ll come faster and more formed if you actively search for them. “If you know the question, you know the answer”, as they say, and I think it’s true. It may not always feel true, but you’ll come to find it is. You have to first find just the right question, and then search just as hard for the answer.
Sorry if I’m babbling, I hope this makes sense.
In the end, remember this: you’re doing better than most of us, that’s for sure.
Good luck with your story!
I’m both a writer and a visual artist and I’ve noticed I make things overly complicated in both mediums when I don’t really have a clear idea of what I’m doing and am hoping if I throw enough stuff together I can hide that underlying confusion. The result is usually more like someone trying to hide a lie by making their explanation really elaborate and in the process coming across as lacking integrity.
My favorite artistic projects have been ones in which I was obsessed emotionally and intellectually with some subject AND came to one essential strong conclusion about that subject. Things become too simplistic if I don’t care enough about or know enough about the subject (“Look! I drew a square with another square and four lines! It’s a chair!”). They become too complicated if I don’t know what I intend to say about the subject or what the subject even is (“This chair is cozy and nice to sit in! Or maybe it is an angsty representation of solitude! Or maybe it’s not a chair! Maybe it’s a teacup!”)
“I’m both a writer and a visual artist and I’ve noticed I make things overly complicated in both mediums when I don’t really have a clear idea of what I’m doing and am hoping if I throw enough stuff together I can hide that underlying confusion.”
This is SO spot-on.
Great post as always! I am seeing hints of 4, maybe 5, maybe a smidge of 7, a bit of 8, and 9 in my draft so far. My first draft (formerly one book, now two) inherently has additional complications because the story sort of cuts-off at the end of book one even though we have a climax and resolution with the protag’s main plot conflict. I’m still not fully satisfied with this. Maybe I should merge the books back into one even though it would be twice as long…
I also have a protagonist and a main character, who are in two separate places for most of book one. Important supporting characters also have POV scenes, although I have made sure that my protag has a higher percentage than all the others combined.
Some of these supporting characters fulfill similar roles; however, they fulfill these roles for different characters, not the protagonist. I suppose that makes it even more complicated, doesn’t it? 😀 What a lovely mess I have.
Ideas?
Looking forward to next week’s post!
As I talked about in this post about multiple main characters, it’s important that characters in separate places or plotlines have a full complement of supporting characters. So I wouldn’t worry about replicating “roles” in this instance; you have a good reason for it.
As for the rest of your concerns, next week I will be talking about some tools you can use to bring good complexity to a story. Perhaps you’ll find something there that will help you streamline your story into what you want it to be.
I agree. I like to have a clear idea of where I want to end up, it helps me figure out how i want to get there. However, i am always open for surprises my characters give me.
It’s a good balance!
Hello! This is a good, thoughtful post, Thank you!
I love your articles and insights! Thank you so much for sharing them.
While I can’t think of any further ways in which a story may complicate itself unnecessarily, I do have a way of determining how to evaluate the focus of characters, themes, and objectives through evaluating POV. I thought this may be of interest to you and your readers. I got this idea from taking apart one of my favorite TV shows. Here’s what I found:
For any scene, list 1.) the main speaker, 2.) who the main speaker is speaking to, 3.) additional characters present (A) who say something, and (B) who say nothing.
Using pencil and paper, draw four concentric circles. The central circle represents the main speaker, so write that person’s name in the center circle.
In the second ring, place as many dots as the main speaker is speaking to. These are not necessarily “secondary” characters to the story but those who are onstage playing the role of the secondary character(s) for this scene. I list only those who make a valuable reply that helps drive the story. Space out their dots so they’re more or less equidistant.
In the third ring, place as many dots equidistant as there are other characters who are present but whose comments do not drive the story. These tertiary characters (group A) may or may not have names but do make comments.
There is only a fourth ring if the MC is talking to or among a crowd. These are tertiary characters (group B) who have no speaking parts. (I.e., these are any additional background characters that are present, such as by-standers and passersby.)
Finally, focus only on the characters who have contributed comments (or actions!) of substance to the scene’s goal. With the primary speaker acting in the role of the scene’s MC, draw a loop around the speaker and whoever the speaker directly influences, without crossing more than two levels. Repeat the ring diagram for any number of scenes to find patterns of relationship in the overall story. (Again, this can be done with varying emphases–goals, themes, whatever.)
The value-add is, if we look at the roles actually being played in the scene(s), then we can pick up more quickly on when the roles need to be played by the MC (or his nemesis). From there, we can better see where we’ve accidentally farmed out more valuable roles to other characters.
When I mapped out the characters for the story-arc of the tv show I was studying, I found this:
The MC primarily influenced characters A, B, & C. In this pattern of influence, A was the MC’s sidekick and B & C were regularly antagonistic.
In the next level, A, B, & C each influenced a similar pattern of characters under them. (Such as good sidekick or window character D and numerous though generally unnamed nonspeaking groups of characters: group E, group F).
Conversely, the relationships between the MC’s nemesis and his subordinates were similarly arranged (though I found it less distinct).
Through those subordinate relationships (such as evil sidekick F, evil group E), the antagonist influenced certain of these characters who might play a non-speaking part when on-stage with the good MC. Off-stage from the MC, these dubious characters performed heinous evil actions and/or verbally stirred up doubt and confusion for either the generally good characters B or C.
It was easy (as a viewer) to pick out which characters or groups were associated with which rival.
Although A, B, C, and F often tried to have their own agenda, they kept getting pulled back into the main story arc—a story arc from which they could not escape. Thus, their sub-stories continually contributed to the main story. (Although, I found this approach also stymied their growth, which frustrated me as the viewer and—I felt—cheapened the plot overall with filler.)
So, at any given moment, even though this was a complex story, the story was kept confined to this political struggle and the growing tensions between the nemesis and his rival.
Granted, it was a tv show, but it has helped me tremendously in conceputalizing how to handle a large cast without overly complicating the waters. Or, at least I hope it will!
This is great! Thanks so much for sharing it with us.