Randy Ingermanson published a good definition of the high stakes, high concept novel over at his site a few days ago. It was an idea that came up several times at a Mount Hermon workshop I took with him a few weeks ago.
In the link above, Randy sez: “The higher the stakes, the higher the concept.” Then follows up with wonderful wonderful examples to demonstrate his point of view. An asteroid threatens the entire planet. An evil emperor threatens the entire galaxy. High stakes.
Then he concedes that good books don’t need a high concept–and he cites Jane Austen. Hmm. Now, I wrote my undergraduate thesis on Jane Austen, so I’m a bit of a raving fan. I know, it’s not particularly manly of me to love Jane. But what can I say, Darcy is my hero. Someday I hope to have just a tiny fraction of his infinite coolness.
(And Pride & Prejudice fans should know my secret fear: I’m more Mr. Collins than Darcy.)
See, I love Jane Austen. Her books have this universal conflict of gender that feels very high concept, high stakes to me. We’re talking about love and personal happiness.
But according to Randy’s definition, high personal stakes are not necessarily high concept. I love a good explosion movie as much as anyone. Especially if there are also flying martial artists. Randy, I’m not disagreeing with you on this, I’m just trying to figure out why the division makes me bristle so much.
Patrick O’Brien blows up ships in Master and Commander–so he’s high concept. Jane Austen blows up cultural gender stereotypes (no helicopters, despite what Camille says)–so she’s not high concept.
Do high stakes always involve death? Do more deaths mean higher stakes?
Maybe Hero is my answer. Jane Austen meets Chinese invasion. Love triangle meets assassination plot. There aren’t many explosions, but people fly a lot. They even walk on water. Just watch:
Now if only Pride and Prejudice had a ninja subplot.
Or pirates. Pirates would work too.
{ 13 comments… read them below or add one }
Marcus, sometimes I wish I knew what you were talking about! Unfortunately I never was into the “classics” that much (never read P&P, for instance).
But if I get your meaning (or is it Randy’s), I think I agree. I’ve read (and seen) many of what I consider great stories with nary an exploding planet in sight (I’m an almost exclusively sci-fi fan).
But I must admit, without some action, it can get a little slow. That’s the problem I have with some of A.C. Clarke’s later works.
Your task: Write Ninjas in the Time of Pride and Prejudice.
BTW, Mr. Collins? Ew. No. Keep thinking you’re Darcy. Mr. Collins is a dweeb.
I sat next to a television producer at a writer’s conference once. I was, and am always, trying to decipher high concept. To me, it’s like everyone is suddenly talking in German.
What? (that’s my reaction, since I can’t understand.)
This very nice young man in television tried to explain it to me. In about six words. It didn’t really help. Not at all.
Here’s what he said:
It’s like “Snakes on a plane.”
Okay, I know that was a movie. A movie I never want to see. But somehow it epitomizes high concept.
Sigh.
Oh. Hero. Love, war, beauty, the fantastic, a sacrifice. I’ll take that kind of concept any day.
Hi Marcus
Hero, that’s high concept. To be able to change the history of Chinese civilisation with a thrust of your sword but to refuse to do so. To decide that under heaven and earth, it is better to let an evil man live so that he will unite China (good for society) than for personal vengeance (person good). And to accept the sacrifice of friends and your own life as the price.
BTW, ninja is a Japanese assassin
I’m a huge fan of the movie, Hero. Sobbed at the end. Beautiful story. Aesthetic cinematography. Amazing acting.
I’m catching up on blogs, so I haven’t read yet Randy’s on high concept. I’m not sure I understand the difference. It made me clench my jaw, though, that Pride and Prejudice is not considered high concept even if I don’t know what it means! Maybe I should read before reacting
I hear about this high-concept business at nearly every writing conference or seminar or class I’ve attended. I understand what is meant–I think–but shouldn’t any good story make the stakes matter, grand-scale or personal?
If the stakes matter to the characters, if the outcome matters to the reader, then the author has done his or her job.
Maybe this is what I’m saying: If I don’t care whether or not the universe explodes, then the stakes aren’t high enough. The author hasn’t done his job and made me care.
Thanks for the great comments, everyone!
@Keanan, you have a really good point. The stakes are more about how much we care. It is almost an issue of characterization rather than plot.
I believe Harriet Smith’s parents were referred to as pirates. So Jane DOES have some piracy to her novels.
What a well rounded “high stakes” kind of person is Jane Austen. I love her.
Mark, any man that can admit to being a raving fan of Jane is as cool, no—infinitely cooler than Darcy.
Aside from Jane, Darcy & John McClane (Die Hard) are my heroes. So I guess that makes me a bi-polar, High-Low concept kinda girl. (Duh, anyone who loves Jane Austen and action flicks….ya think?)
But high and low concept isn’t a way to measure relevance. The potential for a powerful emotional impact exists in both.
Look at these guys: both use whatever they have to save the day. One launches a car to destroy a threat—and of course, blows up a helicopter. (LOVE that scene!) Bruce, you’re branded for life, pal. And the other uses what he has, namely money and connections, to save the Bennet family reputation. Darcy, we’re proud of you, man. Sorry about your mother-in-law.
LOVED hero. Absolutely beautiful. Like Opera for the eyes.
I’d have to disagree with Randy, Mark. In Writing the Breakout Novel, Donald Maass has a very good section on stakes. He mentions both public and private, and says, as Keanan did, that “high stakes” aren’t really high if we don’t care about the character.
Here’s a particularly interesting and applicable quote on the subject:
In the scale of values, nothing is more compelling than high principles and codes of personal conduct. We admire principled people. We try to emulate them …To put a principled person at risk is to raise the stakes in your story to a high degree. Better still is to test that individual’s principles to the utmost. There is something gripping about the inner struggle to remain loyal to a passionately held belief.
Becky
Mark,
you’re too funny! (Pirates…lol)
But there are no higher stakes than when your heart is involved-well, maybe your soul
I want my books to be high action with deep soul. You get the best of both worlds that way, *grin*