Plot Archetypes I

As mentioned before, most plots have already been done. In fact, if you look at stories from a distance, you’ll find that 99% of stories pull from the same collection of plot archetypes. And it’s a very small collection.

Then why don’t all stories feel identical?

The creativity and uniqueness of stories comes from …

• How you implement the archetype. (An archetype only states a few rules or details about the plot, nothing specific.)
• Slightly mixing it up: combining multiple archetypes or putting a spin on a famous archetype.

A plot archetype is not the same as narrative structure (such as the 3 Act Structure or the Hero’s Journey). A narrative structure provides a specific formula for how to outline your story. A plot archetype merely states the general trend or purpose.

As such, these are more of a guideline and a tool for categorization. If your plot has several major storylines, for example, determine the archetype for each of them. One could be a “quest” plot, another a “romance” plot, and so forth. Simply by adding this tag, you have now broken the massive task of writing a novel into smaller, more manageable chunks. If you ever get lost, remember the archetype you chose for the storyline and stay true to it.

The greatest stories come from a sort of cross-pollination of different archetypes. You pick things that work well with one archetype (or genre), apply that to the other archetypes in your story, and see what comes out.

The Archetypes

These archetypes are pulled from “The Seven Basic Plots” by Christopher Brooker. Next chapters, I’ll provide several other lists (longer, with more specific archetypes) created by others. Because the archetypes below are slightly antiquated: they are based more on myths, legends and folklore and sometimes hard to apply immediately to modern stories.

Rags to Riches

The hero begins in a heavily disadvantaged position, but comes across a change in fortune. These stories always have a happy ending in which the hero is an an advantageous position.

As the title suggests, an easy way to remember this archetype is through money. Somebody starts out poor or destitute, but ends up being wealthy.

Often, the hero loses their new fortune along the way (or has trouble maintaining it). They spend most of the story working to get it back or to make it permanent. Why? Because the inciting incident is often luck-based (“Charlie randomly finds the Golden Ticket so they may visit the Chocolate Factory”), which readers don’t like. Adding this extra arc actually forces your hero to act and to grow.

An example of this is, as expected, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

The Quest

The hero goes on a journey to reach some (tangible) objective. Once their quest has begun, they must fight obstacle after obstacle to reach their goal. They will reach their objective in the end, but the obstacles have made them grow and learn along the way.

This archetype is close to the Hero’s Journey and perhaps the most common one in popular stories. It’s easy to write engaging and active plots for it, and humans intuitively understand that journeys mean adventures.

An example of this is Indiana Jones: Raiders of the Lost Ark.

Rebirth

This archetype requires a dramatic transformation of the main character. (Often found in religious and creation myths, but you can use them anywhere.)

The hero starts out a deeply flawed person. The aim of the archetype is to show how—through hard work, introspection, new experiences—someone can change into a better person.

An example of this is A Christmas Carol.

Overcoming the Monster

The hero fights a clear antagonist: the “monster”. This could be literal (an actual fantasy monster), but is often metaphorical (a corporation engaging in unethical practices, a person with monstrous morals, …)

Similar to the Quest, this one intuitively resonates with humans. We’ve all seen “monsters” in the real world. We’ve all faced demons or antagonists in our life.

These stories aim to show that monsters can be defeated (through courage, discipline, cooperation, whatever you want). As such, you must end the story with the hero beating the antagonist. That’s what the archetype promises.

An example of this is David and Goliath.

Comedy

Comedies are stories rich in dramatic irony. The audience always knows more than the characters do. We clearly see the obvious solution or that an idea is going to fail dramatically.

Our hero goes for it anyway. In a comedy, we get to watch a character (who hopefully has a funny side) make major mistakes in life and love. But it’s funny, because we know there are no serious consequences, and we know they’ll find their way to a happy ending.

(If there are serious consequences and no happy ending, you’re actually writing a tragedy. This shows, again, the importance of Promise and Payoff. If you write a tragedy, don’t accidentally promise a comedy at the start of your story.)

An example of this is Pride and Prejudice.

Tragedy

Comedies aim to show how making mistakes is human and they can be fixed. Tragedies aim to show the opposite: our flaws can destroy us if we let them.

Our hero should be a fundamentally good character with one major flaw (such as pride, anger, greed, gluttony). This leads to their downfall.

They work as cautionary tales for our own flaws. That’s what makes them powerful, instead of just frustrating or sad. Again, a tragedy must end with the downfall of the hero. If you promise a tragedy in your first chapter, you can’t give it a happy ending.

An example of this is Othello.

Voyage and Return

The hero journeys to a new world. This strange and exciting land is completely different from anything they’d known before. This, again, could be literal (like visiting Narnia) or metaphorical (a police officer goes undercover with local gangs, entering a totally new “world” they aren’t used to).

This feels similar to the Quest, but is not the same. While the Quest is about the goal, this one is about the journey. A quest might simply be to steal the answers to tomorrows test from your high school teacher. You’re laser focused on that goal, and you certainly don’t enter a new world. A voyage would mean you travel to a new high school at the other side of the country, where you enter an entirely new world, and the goal of the story is something unrelated to that.

This archetype works well for societal stories. Stories where you want to contrast or show cultures, prejudices, different perspectives.

An example of this is, of course, The Odyssey.

Before you do the challenge

I suggest reading the other archetype chapters first, then picking the approach you like (or understand) best. As stated, these archetypes can be too vague or antiquated for you. Next chapters provide different archetypes, perhaps more of them or more specific ones.

Do the challenge only once or twice, not again and again for each chapter or every archetype. That would be a ludicrous (and unnecessary) amount of work.

These chapters also serve as a reference for your future stories. When planning your next story, check the lists and see what archetype tickles your fancy. As always, don’t force yourself to read it all and memorize it—that will do you no good.

Now Write!

Pick two of these archetypes. Combine them into one story. Now write that!

The idea is not to get a perfect story. (Nor should you write a full novel, keep these challenges very short! So you actually do them and finish them!)

The idea is to challenge yourself and train using new plotting tools. As such, forget any other “rules”, don’t limit yourself in any other way. Only limit yourself by picking archetypes and sticking to them.