The “saggy middle” of a story is one of the biggest challenges writers face. The Second Act is twice as long as the other two acts and yet is often less clearly defined. What’s a writer to do to keep the pacing just as tight and the events just as interesting over the long haul of the Second Act? The simplest answer is: Mind the Midpoint.
Writing instruction is often more prolific for the First Act and the Third Act, since their functions and responsibilities are more clearly defined. The First Act must hook readers and set up the conflict. The Third Act must ramp up into a satisfying Climax that concludes the conflict. Both of these acts are comparatively short, only a quarter each of the story, and so they are often very busy in their need to check all the necessary boxes.
The Second Act, by comparison, can seem a long desert trek. We understand something must happen between the setup and resolution, and we recognize this something is the conflict itself. But beyond that, we can sometimes struggle to keep this heart of our story pumping in a way that also keeps readers turning pages. Cue the saggy middle.
Structuring Your Novel (Amazon affiliate link)
Fortunately, there is an obvious and simple solution, and it’s the same solution writers use to compose the First and Third Acts: story structure. The heart of that structure in the Second Act—and, indeed, the heart of the entire story’s structure—is the Midpoint. If you have the Midpoint in place and working well (along with its fellow Second-Act beats the Pinch Points), your Second Act will be on its way to pulling its own weight.
Over the last month or so, we’ve been exploring the idea that story structure is inherently chiastic—a pattern in which we recognize that the beats in the second half mirror, in reverse order, those in the first half. We can see this most plainly if we view story structure less as an arc and more as a circle.
So far, we’ve discussed the link between the Hook and Resolution, the link between the Inciting Event and Climactic Moment, the link between the First and Third Plot Points, and the link between the First and Second Pinch Points. Today, it’s time to discuss the final structural beat, the lone ranger of the bunch—the Midpoint.
As you can see in the graphic, the Midpoint reigns alone at the base of the circle. It has no paired beat but is rather the pivot point around which all the beats in the first and second halves swivel. As such, the Midpoint does not specifically mirror any other beat (although, as James Scott Bell discusses, it is often the representative Mirror Moment for the entire story). Rather, it acts to resolve certain elements in the first half, with this resolution then become the catalyst for all the mirroring elements in the second half.
Structurally Speaking: What Is the Midpoint?
Within the structural nomenclature I use, the Midpoint is technically the Second Plot Point. Other instructors and systems sometimes give the Midpoint no other name and refer to the Third Plot Point as the Second Plot Point. Don’t get confused, since although the names may sometimes differ, the structural beats at the 50% and 75% marks still perform the same functions in all the varied instructional systems.
The Midpoint occurs at the 50% mark, halfway through the Second Act and (obviously) halfway through the book itself. Although many writers neglect the Midpoint in comparison to more noted moments such as the First Plot Point or Climax, the Midpoint is arguably the most significant beat within the story. It is what director Sam Peckinpah called the “centerpiece” of the entire story. Everything hangs upon it. In many ways, it is the moment that decides the ultimate fate of the story. What happens here—what the characters realize and decide—will determine whether or not they arc positively and triumph in the Climax’s final confrontation.
As such, the Midpoint will often be one of your biggest and most visual scenes. In a more adventurous story, this might mean you stage a big set-piece battle scene here. In a more relational story, it may be only one single significant visual or conversation. Regardless, it must be electric. It must dynamically move the characters and the plot.
Creating Character Arcs (Amazon affiliate link)
The Midpoint will feature at least one, possibly more, momentous revelations. Within the primary character arc and thematic exploration, the protagonist will encounter a Moment of Truth that forever changes his or her view of the story’s central philosophy. This revelation, perhaps in partnership with a further external revelation about the nature of the conflict itself, will forever evolve how the protagonist approaches the conflict—on both a personal and practical level. It signals a thematic shift from Lie to Truth (or vice versa) and an external shift from ineffective “reaction” to increasingly effective “action.” Not to put too fine a point on it, the lessons the protagonist has learned in the first half will now crystallize into an actionable plan in the second half.
(This article doesn’t discuss the First and Third Acts, but here’s the link to the corresponding First Act Timeline and Third Act Timeline graphics if you’re interested.)
Recognizing the Central Importance of the Midpoint
You can think of the pivot created by your story’s Midpoint in a few different ways:
- Centerpiece: Set-Piece Scene
One of the primary reasons structural turning points are important within a story is because they regulate the pacing, which in turn regulates the entertainment value a reader or viewer is receiving. The three main Plot Points in particular should be big moments within the story. Arguably, there is none bigger than the Midpoint.
This is your opportunity to create a stellar set-piece scene or sequence—one that not only performs its structural duties, but that wows your audience. If you imagine your story as a big dinner party, then the Midpoint is the jaw-dropping centerpiece in the middle of the table. Take this opportunity pull out all the stops and give your readers something they won’t easily forget.
For Example: In one of my all-time favorite examples of a viscerally unforgettable Midpoint shift, Jurassic Park revs out of a totally character-driven first half with a (literal) lightning storm of a Midpoint. During a tropical storm, the power goes out and the electric fences fail. The dinosaurs—most notably the T-Rex—escape, and the characters will spend the rest of the movie very actively trying to find a way off the island.
Jurassic Park (1993), Universal Pictures.
- Thematic Moment of Truth
Writing Your Story’s Theme (Amazon affiliate link)
The Midpoint’s primary thematic job is that of pivoting the protagonist’s character arc with a Moment of Truth. The protagonist will have spent the first half of the story engulfed in an inner battle between the Lie She Believes and the thematic Truth. Whether or not she will learn to move forward and embrace the Truth will be decided at the Midpoint, when she will be confronted with a powerful manifestation of the Truth.
In a Positive-Change Arc, the protagonist will see the Truth as true and begin accepting it over the second half the story—although she will not yet fully reject her Lie. In a Negative-Change Arc, she will reject the offered Truth and begin plunging even more deeply and irrevocably into the Lie. In a Flat Arc, she will make a stand for the Truth and offer it to supporting characters around her.
For Example: In the classic Bette Davis film Now, Voyager, the protagonist Charlotte returns home to confront her tyrannical mother. This is a wonderful Midpoint on so many levels. Fundamentally, it is all about Charlotte’s Moment of Truth: will she or won’t she revert to the person she used to be and submit to her mother’s unreasonable demands? There is true doubt about which direction she will take, but ultimately she chooses to reject the Lie her mother has always told her: that she can’t survive on her own. She does it beautifully and realistically, in a real attempt to maintain good relations with her horrible mother.
Now, Voyager (1942), Warner Bros.
- Mirror Moment
Write Your Novel From the Middle by James Scott Bell (affiliate link)
It is apt that the Midpoint should be thought of as the “Mirror Moment.” Whereas all the other beats in the story’s first and second half mirror each other, the Midpoint stands alone in mirroring itself. In his book Write Your Novel From the Middle, James Scott Bell suggests the Midpoint’s MirrorMmoment is where “the main character has to figuratively look at himself… and be confronted with a disturbing truth: change or die.”
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In short, this is the Moment of Truth, mentioned above. However, it is more than that, since it offers the opportunity for a particularly powerful bit of symbolism: the mirror itself. Bell notes with interest how frequently we will see a protagonist either literally look into a mirror at the Midpoint, or at least be present in the same room with a reflective surface. You can also symbolize your protagonist “facing himself” in other ways, such as having him face a character who is like him. (In my gaslamp fantasy Wayfarer, I had the opportunity to force my protagonist to witness the callous deeds committed by someone who had taken on his own appearance.)
For Example: In the classic musical Singin’ in the Rain, Gene Kelly’s actor protagonist literally faces himself when forced to watch his own dismal performance onscreen during a public movie preview. What he witnesses brings home the brutal truth about his own and the studio’s arrogance in thinking they could blithely transition from silent films to talkies. This truth pivots both the plot and his character arc.
Singin’ in the Rain (1952), MGM.
- Major Revelation That Turns the Plot
Depending on the nature of your story, how prominent your protagonist’s character arc is, and what set-piece action you have chosen for the Midpoint, the revelation offered by the thematic Moment of Truth may be enough to turn the plot as well. However, it’s possible you may need a second (but hopefully related) revelation, which provides the protagonist with an important insight into the nature of the conflict.
Secrets of Story by Matt Bird (affiliate link)
Whether or not the Midpoint proves to be an outright success within the conflict for the protagonist, it will show him where his methods have so far been ineffective. It will inform him as to the true nature of the antagonistic force he is facing, and it will provide him with information about how he can move more effectively toward his plot goal in the second half of the story. As such, it signals the protagonist’s ability to shift from comparatively ineffective “reaction” in the first half (or Matt Bird’s “doing things the easy way”) to increasingly effective “action” in the second half (“doing things the hard way”).
For Example: In The Godfather (which showcases a Negative-Change Arc), the Midpoint features the death of the protagonist’s older brother Sonny. Since Sonny was the heir presumptive to his wounded Mafia don father, the role of avenging and protecting the family now falls to the younger son and protagonist Michael. This moment marks a total shift in Michael’s involvement with the family business and his willingness to engage with any and all effective methods.
The Godfather (1972), Paramount Pictures.
3 Questions to Ask About Your Story’s Midpoint
1. What Is the Biggest and Most Interesting Set-Piece You Can Conceive for Your Story’s Midpoint?
Does something exciting, interesting, and visual occur at your story’s Midpoint? Take a moment to brainstorm as many possibilities as you can. If you can incorporate “Mirror Moment” symbolism into the scene, via an actual mirror or forcing your protagonist to face herself in some other way, so much the better. Regardless, don’t cut corners on this beat. It should earn its role as your story’s centerpiece.
2. What Moment of Truth Will Forever Change Your Protagonist’s Thematic Character Arc?
Within your protagonist’s character arc, this is the moment when he must be blatantly confronted by the Truth in some way. First, consider what that Truth will be; then consider how you can craft a scene that best dramatizes what he will learn from this Truth and how he will choose to engage with it. Remember that this is where the protagonist begins to truly accept or deny the Truth. It is not, however, where he fully resolves his relationship to the Lie. That won’t happen until the Climax. For the rest of the Second Act, the character will still be trying to juggle the Truth and the Lie, but now the Truth will be ascendant.
3. What Major Revelation Will Change the Protagonist’s Understanding of the Main Conflict?
Is what the protagonist learns in the thematic Moment of Truth enough to swivel both the plot and her character arc? If not, you’ll also need to dramatize the catalytic revelation at the heart of the external conflict. Determine what the protagonist needs to know that will change her perception of the antagonistic force, the conflict, and her own methods. Whatever she learns here should help her shift into a more effective mode of action in the second half, leading right up to the Climax.
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Next week, we’ll conclude the series with a final post that dives a little deeper into chiastic structure in general and particularly how you can utilize it over the course of a series. Happy writing!
Previous Posts in This Series:
- The Link Between Your Story’s Hook and Resolution
- The Link Between Your Story’s Inciting Event and Climactic Moment
- The Link Between Your Story’s First Plot Point and Third Plot Point
- The Link Between Your Story’s Pinch Points
Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! What happens at the Midpoint that completely changes your story? Tell me in the comments!
Click the “Play” button to Listen to Audio Version (or subscribe to the Helping Writers Become Authors podcast in iTunes).
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Violence in Fiction: 6 Archetypes
“There and Back Again”: The Lord of the Rings and the Power of Despair in Fiction
Figure Out Your Story’s Magic System Using Story Structure
How to Use Archetypes in a Series
About K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland
I didn’t consciously think about having a reflection of some nature in my middle. Now I am. (Grin.) In your Jurrassic Park example, there is the T-rex foot reflected in the puddle to make a mirror.
My midpoint is actually a quiet moment between set-pieces. My MC comes to an important realization, but not until after he’s given a moment to catch his breath.
Ah, you’re right about Jurassic Park. Cool. The mirror symbolism is everywhere once you start noticing it.
I was close to completion of my second novel before I realized that the midpoint of the story really was where the main character made this critical internal shift. Knowing this gave me what I needed to work through the writing of three chapters near the end – chapters I had hoped I didn’t have to write because of the difficult material they dealt with, but that my beta readers told me I must – and to conclude the story in a way that satisfied the characters and their goals.
Knowing what to look for and what to plan for, a lot closer to the beginning!, will be most useful in my future work.
Definitely. Understanding key points like the Midpoint can take care of a lot of potential plot holes upfront.
This one’s tough! My protagonist is unable to save an ally. He sees the antagonistic force he used to belong to kill a human for the first time. As a result, he becomes more intent on finding a safe dimension for him and his “family.”
I’m not sure that’s enough of a swivel.
Sounds like his goal shifts, which is a major transition appropriate for the Midpoint. Also, witnessing an antagonist with whom he identifies can be a symbolic Mirror Moment.
Oh, wow! I just reread it and there’s actually a line about the antagonists wearing the uniform he once wore. I had a mirror moment and didn’t even know! Thank you!
Love it! This kind of thing thrills me. 😀
This came at the perfect time – I’m exactly at this juncture in Book 2 of a trilogy. I was waiting for this one after your last post/podcast! Thanks!
Yay! Happy writing. Midpoint scenes are a lot of fun.
Thanks Katie, another great article. A point of clarification please. Can the midpoint just be a significant event that reveals to protagonist the true nature of conflict (resulting in protagonist to take control/change tactics) OR must it also be coupled with a deeper personal revelation to the protagonist ie the event triggers this personal revelation? In my work in progress my midpoint achieves the first but I’m not sure it achieves the second.
It depends how prominent the character arc is. If the story doesn’t feature a major character change over the course of the plot, then the Midpoint might be mostly external, with the internal shift being more implicit. However, if there’s a major character arc, then the Moment of Truth at the Midpoint is one of the most integral pieces in the character’s ability to evolve in a realistic way.
The character arc is big of my story so I’ll have think about how my current midpoint can reflect this more. Thanks.
Glad to help!
Is it necessary to leave the reader shaken by the midpoint? For all its significance, does it need to be in the reader’s face or can there be a subtlety about it? My current work shows a change in the MC’s view when he realizes his nemesis is not the evil tyrant that he thought he was. The shift does indeed change the way MC accepts his challenges going forward. It is also true that the scene has some tension created by a secondary character on the MC’s behalf. In the end, though, the midpoint is more a quiet revelation than a spectacular show.
Generally, you’re going to want the Midpoint to present an opposite “attitude” to whatever happened in the First Plot Point. For example, if something negative happened at the First Plot Point, the Midpoint might be more positive. This is not a hard-and-fast rule, however. How positive or negative the Midpoint is will ultimately depend on a lot of subjective factors within your story.
“The Second Act, by comparison, can seem a long desert trek.”
This is what I so love about your books and blog — you speak to my own experience! I’ve told my husband many times just about 25k words into Act II, “Ugh, all I see is this huge desert wilderness stretching out before me.”
Perhaps by well studying this article, I can find a cool spring along the way.
Thanks always for getting me out of the Doldrums and back on my feet with a second wind.
You’re not alone. Almost all authors struggle with the Second Act at one point or another.
Every time I read an entry in this series I have to change my WIP, lol. Thank you for clarifying the connections between beats and now how the midpoint hinges the whole story. I have revising to do.
Hah. I have to change mine too. :p
Awesome stuff, once again. I always say, if you can’t be good, be lucky.
And so it goes with my midpoint. I seem to have instinctively (or luckily) created a midpoint that does just what you suggest. My protagonist discovers that she is living in one of a multitude of simulations, not reality at all. And the theme, which dances around the question of being alone within oneself and the universe, is answered, but opens the door to new questions and problems.
To add icing to the cake, my mirror moment happens just before that midpoint when the protagonist meets herself in the flesh! They don’t get along very well and must learn to work together to survive, giving her the opportunity to see herself as she really is, both externally and internally. This “second” self is not simply a copy, but a true second instantiation of Elizabeth. Even though they can’t peer into each other’s thoughts, looking into each other eyes they are both gazing at the same being. Fun, eh? Let’s see how that goes over with their egos.
Thanks for giving us a better understanding of the structure of story!
Spot on! 😀
In my memoir story about my character nicknamed Rose will she has a lot of growing in her life as a mermaid and then as a goddess. Being a healer she helps people and also loses them. Rose wants her family and friends to be safe from harm.
In the present she will need to find Iris-her great granddaughter who gives kidnapped by Loki disguised as Fin but she can’t fight him because Loki takes her ability to get legs so she can walk.
Her husband Ray and Jaden have to go find runes to help her.
Then also Ray and Jaden become one person as Jay.
My characters live on a fantasy planet.
I may split the memoir in two parts.
Did you pick the winner for the writer bag?
Yes, the winner was announced in Friday. Her name is now listed on the widget at the bottom of the drawing post.
I bought the book but couldn’t enter the drawing, because my cats and husky would have either shredded or peed on it. I didn’t want to hate them.
Sound reasoning. 😉
The middles were often the place I’d stop writing because I just couldn’t figure out out how to get through it. But you’ve managed to make the midpoint an exciting place to be. Thank you! Also, thanks for the shout-outs to Now, Voyager and Singin’ in the Rain!
Great old classic movies, for sure! And, yes, the Midpoint is seriously one of the most exciting bits of the story–or should be. 😉
This was a great episode. I happened into having a major set piece as my midpoint in book 3 of a fanfic thing I’m writing, and it was amazing once I put it there how much fell into place afterwards.
And I am _totally_ stealing the mirror thing for book 4. My midpoint scene here is that my protagonist, having dropped out of a supporting role in the giant robot war against the aliens, has nevertheless drawn the ire of the nationalists (who want the US out of the war), and the big scene is that he returns to his family’s high rise condo to find it trashed and vandalized, clearly meant as a threat to him. So, now I am totally gonna march poor Noah into the bathroom to see his own reflection in the mirror, behind the words “DIE, TRAITOR” spray-painted on the glass. This is gonna be hella scary. I love it.
Perfect!
Hi, one of the things I have noticed about story mid points is that, if the protagonist has a mentor figure he or she is following, then at the mid point these two figures often part ways. We see this when Obi Wan leaves Luke in the original Star Wars story to go and disable the tractor beam. Similarly, in The Hobbit, we see the departure of Gandalf from Bilbo at the exact mid point of the novel. Bilbo takes up the leader and protector role that Gandalf leaves vacant, with the aid of his recently acquired magic ring
Interesting. I hadn’t made that connection, but it makes sense both symbolically and practically, since it signifies the transition into the protagonist being able to stand on his own feet without the assistance of a mentor figure.
Question: How can a writer write a novel without getting obsessed with doing the steps perfectly? Since I have OCD, it’s very easy for me to over-analyze writing that can’t do any writing of my book. Fortunately, a lot of the first draft is written. However, I find myself obsessing about doing it perfectly. Any thoughts?
I think this is a question we all ask ourselves at some point, since the craft of writing is an often turbulent marriage between raw, instinctive creativity and conscious, logical mastery of certain forms. I’m currently reading Brenda Ueland’s wonderful classic If You Want to Write, which speaks to this quite a bit. I recommend it.
Near the middle of my current WIP, I have a ‘truth moment’ shown by the wind. Does it matter that this truth (in effect, an answer to the inner lies) doesn’t really sink in until the wind is mentioned around the 3rd plot point (causing a ‘hark back’ to that tragic moment) and the protagonist finally realises exactly what happened and what it meant? Just curious about it because this later realisation before the climax feels a lot more like the “change or die” part than my midpoint does.
There needs to be enough of a conscious shift within the protagonist at the Midpoint that he begins *acting* in a more Truth-based way. But you don’t have to spell it out. Subtlety can be very powerful. Profound change within ourselves often isn’t explicitly conscious. Often, it is more of a body knowing than a mind knowing–although this can be more difficult to portray on the page.
Maybe this is shown in how the protagonist’s gut clings a bit more strongly to what a friend believed, despite being shattered by his death and wanting to give up when the belief doesn’t make sense. He’s trying to prove something which he longs to be true. Doubt causes slip-ups, but the revelation around the 3rd plot point kills the doubt (mostly), strengthening him for the big test ahead. Not quite sure if the pror behaviour is too subtle…
Definitely sounds like it could work.
Nice! One thing puzzles me, though. It’s sounding like midpoints should be ‘bigger’ (‘electric’ and the ‘centerpiece’) than even the climax/climactic moment and I thought climaxes were inclined to be the ‘big thing’. One of my WIPs has a brief battle somewhere near the middle, but, in that regard, I think it’s nowhere close to matching the visual/tragic battle near the end.
Climaxes are unique in that they are definitive–life or death, if only symbolically. But it’s useful to try to think of *all* the major plot points–First, Midpoint, and Third–as needing to be big set-pieces.
I am at a point where I’m lost as to how my MC’s arc is changing now. He has been a child, orphaned and under the care of a variety of kind-hearted people as he has found his way. Now he is around 17 years old and has struck out on his own to avenge the death of a friend. He is angry at God, angry at the man who caused the death, and angry at the people who have sheltered him because of the failures of presumed perfection. My struggle comes because I intended to take him into his 40s-50s so I am wondering if I can write a Moment of Truth in more than one place without making it foolish. I am in what I’ve heard referred to as The Muddle in the Middle. Do you have any suggestions?
In a story that spans such a long period of time, there are often multiple plotlines. However, the overarching story will still provide an overarching plot/conflict/theme. This will be the “scarlet thread” that holds it all together, and it should be reflected in all the major structural beats. If you’re not sure what this is, look to your Climactic Moment. Whatever throughline is resolved there is the main throughline.
Thank you for this excellent series on chiastic structure! I’m writing a trilogy, and am itching to road-test it against your milestones. On a prosaic note, is there a way to make your blog more printer-friendly? I tried to print the main post and am missing 10% or so of the right hand edge of each page 🙁 I have your book on Structure, but I don’t think this is covered there – at least, not in the same detail.
Sorry about the printability. For whatever reason, my site’s template has never played nice with a print button. My best recommendation is simply to copy/paste into a Word doc for printing.
Thanks. Just in case it helps – I noticed that aside from the regular email blog, everything I receive via email in following further comments (after ticking those boxes when posting a comment) via WordPress turn out to be perfectly formatted and printable. Even got one of your full posts that way. 🤔🙂
I was about to ask more info about chiastic structure, but after you concluded this article with that this will be included in the final part of this series all I need is being patient. 🙂
I really loved how you’ve taken Jurassic Park’s midpoint as an example. It’s one of my all-time favourite stories (both book and movie alike) which makes it even clearer to me to understand your lessons in the arcitles in this series:
Dinosaurs inside their enclosure is reaction.
Dinosaurs outside their enclosure is action.
And at the midpoint dinosaurs break out and hell breaks lose.
It’s all so clear now.
Aside from being incredilbly grateful for this series that you’ve made (as the result of a question I’ve once asked you about how plot points are linked together) I have another slightly related question for you which out of all the people I admire I see you as being the best one to ask the following:
What makes a franchise?
For example:
Any franchise I can think of when it comes to story structure I picture the Hero’s Journey.
Any franchise I can think of have unique an often evergreen characters (I’ve read that related article).
Any franchise I can think of is in one word: unique into itself.
And when it comes to items and McGuffins being used I see for example a lot of similarities between the following:
A Light Saber (Star Wars – movies, comic books, and series)
A Pokéball (Pokémon – movies, series, comic manga books, video games)
A Wand (Harry Potter – books, movies, video games)
Shouting (Skyrim – video game)
All four of these represents being pivotal items (shouting being the exception as not being a physical object) within their own franchise and almost all of them are handed over to the protagonist as the Thing They Start Out With on Their Adventure.
And any and all of them are so unique that if you write a story that does something similar to any of the above items, it will quickly turn into fanfiction at best or pure plagiarism at worst.
The cars, dinosaurs in a zoo, their roars, and the music in Jurassic Park, the Delorean in Back to the Future, Elemental Bending in Avatar the Last Airbender, and catching creatures in globe like items in Pokémon, and all the evergreen characters we follow along their amazing roads are ALL part of their own franchises, and frankly, their protagonist’s all represent the Hero’s Journey too.
As being a year long fan of this magnificent website of yours I really, really would LOVE to read your thoughts on what makes a franchise. And I am more than willing (thrilled even) to help you with any information about franchises that I might be more familiar with myself (games like Skyrim and Pokémon for example) to help you write that post.
If you would like to contact me, my email adress is Leto85@msn.com
Thanks very much for inspiring this series! 🙂
As for your question, I don’t know that I have a definitive answer. To me, it seems “franchise” is very much a marketing term, discussing how well a series is doing in its market and therefore how many stories can continue to be made. I think all the elements you’ve mentioned can contribute to a story’s popularity, but I also think there are many (good) stories with those elements that are still not popular or long-lasting enough to be considered a franchise.
So I guess, for me, a franchise is simply a word for an enduringly commercial series.
K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says
Climaxes are unique in that they are definitive–life or death, if only symbolically. But it’s useful to try to think of *all* the major plot points–First, Midpoint, and Third–as needing to be big set-pieces.
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So, does that mean (1) one should aim to make the plot points the 3 biggest ‘other moments’ (midpoint ideally *the* biggest) and (2) whether the climax ‘surpasses’ them or not just depends on how individual stories play out?
I’d say that’s a fair assessment.