Story Twists

Surprising yet inevitable

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I rewrote the last 5,000 words of my upcoming novel so many times I’m embarrassed to tell you the actual number of drafts I piled through. Staring at the screen, in the dark, wondering why the ending wasn’t clicking.

In simple terms, I wanted the ending to be surprising yet inevitable.

I think that’s the description for a well-executed twist in any story.

That is, when looking ahead, the Reader has a hard time predicting what comes next. But, after the twist drops, the Reader can look back and see the breadcrumbs the Storyteller has been leaving for them the entire time. Surprising yet inevitable.

As easy as that sounds, in practice writing a twist felt like playing chess against myself. I knew what I was trying to do but, no matter what moves I made, I just couldn’t win.

I want to unpack both parts of that equation.

The surprising nature of a great twist

This side of the equation is more obvious so let’s start with it. Your twist needs to surprise your Reader. Otherwise, well, it’s not a twist.

But how you actually do that is not by withholding information; it’s by intentionally ordering how you reveal information to your Reader.

If you don’t give the Reader enough info to figure out the twist, you’ll end up with an upset Audience. This happened to me. My first beta readers told me the story’s ending “came out of nowhere.” They did not mean that as a compliment.

While surprising, that version of the twist broke the beta readers’ trust.

So, if the twist can’t come out of nowhere but it also has to be a surprise, how do you make that happen?

I spent many hours pouring over that question. If you’ve seen other ways work, hit reply. It’s fun to talk through these things.

First, focus on the order of the promises you introduce in your story.

Remember Anchoring Bias from last week? Here, you see the same idea. Readers give more weight to the first thing they’re shown. Whatever comes first, sticks in their brains.

You can use this to your advantage to create what I call a Diversion Plot. It’s a misdirection built on human bias.

Essentially, Plant Idea 1 in your story first (the Diversion), then quietly introduce Idea 2 – the real twist – later. That way, your Reader expects the first but isn’t upset when you twist your story toward the second.

I love finding patterns across stories. Regardless of medium, that’s one I keep seeing. To create surprise, place the true direction of your story second.

That Diversion helps you create the surprise. Which leads us to…

The inevitability of a great twist

You don’t want every Reader to see the twist coming. But the most careful Reader? The one that pays attention to every word? They should have a chance to guess the true direction of your story.

As Gillian Flynn puts it, “One of my biggest peeves is when the writer hasn't given you enough information to figure everything out. You should be able to go back to the beginning of Gone Girl, after you've already read it and you know everything, and say: Check – check – yes, she gave us that information.”

(Flynn’s Gone Girl features one of the most famous twists ever.)

This, I think, is where trusting your instincts as a Storyteller matters. No foreshadowing, and your Reader gets mad at you for a twist that comes out of nowhere. But too much foreshadowing and you kill the suspense.

Here’s the heuristic I like:

Can my most attentive reader logically piece together the twist beforehand? If so, then I feel like I’m in a good spot. If not, I’ve likely hidden the clues too deep.

Or, another heuristic I also like (because there’s no one way to think about anything story related):

Would the Reader, upon experiencing the twist, be able to look backward and see how the story was leading to that point?

If so, I’m likely happy with it.

My goal with a twist isn’t to trick the Reader. Rather, I want to play fair but still surprise them.

This is also one of the reasons I suggest writing the end of your story first. When you know the end, you can cleverly foreshadow throughout the middle. The end acts as a magnet pulling the rest of your story forward.

I’ve seen one more common mistake with twists worth talking through.

Resist the urge to explain the twist after the fact.

There’s no easier way to ruin a Reader’s experience than by explaining the story to them.

You know that feeling when you have to explain a joke? How you feel it becoming less funny the longer you explain it?

It’s the same here.

Let the story speak for itself. Trust the Reader. Trust the story. Trust your instinct.

One final thought

For me, the most effective twists force the Reader (or Viewer, Listener, whoever) to recontextualize the entire story.

To take a famous example:

For six and a half books, Severus Snape toes the line between good and evil. You have no idea which side he’s on. In fact, by that point in the series, the prevailing thought for the Reader is that he’s likely evil.

But then it’s revealed he’s been good the entire time. No waffling, always good.

The character instantly goes from treacherous scumbag to the single most courageous character in the series. Every single action he took takes on a different light.

In one moment, the story doesn’t change, but the Reader’s understanding of the story shifts.

That’s an awesome twist. Any examples that come to mind for you? Anything you find makes for a great twist?

Hope you’re having a great week,
Nathan

PS.

PPS.

Of course, there are exceptions to these ideas. One that comes to mind is The Outsider by HP Lovecraft.

Nathan’s Notes

Three notes on writing & story I bookmarked this week.

1. A great newsletter on nonfiction book publishing from a senior editor at Penguin Random House.

2. The title says this video is only for fantasy writers but that’s not true. This is a masterclass in character creation for anyone writing about people which, I’d hazard a guess, is most of us.

3. A conversation on writing short stories (novellas).

What’d you think of today’s letter? Shoot me a note. Fun to discuss this stuff. — Nathan