Why Plot Matters More Than the Characters

Kevin Spacey’s character, Verbal, looks around nervously, agitated by accusations that his friends had used him, that the man he had called his friend was actually a psychotic killer named Kaiser Soze. The truth begins to unfold, revealing the hidden layers beneath as the detective pressures the small man to give up his friend. And then the fax comes in, and the audience sees the true identity of the man behind the horrific legends, and The Usual Suspects concludes in stunning fashion, leaving the audience reeling, rethinking everything they just watched for the last two hours.

Plot is more important than characters.

Wait a second, Mark. Didn’t you just write a post about why characters matter more than plot?

Well, that’s true…except when it’s not.

I would always error on the side of creating believable characters the readers can relate to and invest in, but there are times when characters are merely tools for an ingenious plot.

I struggle with plotting. It’s what I consider to be my weakest area in writing. You may think I have many weak areas to choose from, and that’s OK. You’re the fuel for my alcoholic rage induced writing sessions. I’m just kidding. My eyes are watering with this blond brew from Starbucks right now.

Anyway, back to the story. As long as the characters don’t detract from the story, a fantastic story will always leave a reader feeling satisfied. In the book Silence, by Shusaku Endo, the character of the Jesuit priest pales in comparison to the powerful and profound truth he realizes at the end of the book. Yes, his character adds to the power, but it is the truth in the story that demands our attention and awe.

In Richard Matheson’s Button, Button, the twist at the end of the short story is shocking. The characters? Eh. But the concept and the execution—that is the true star.

I will always try to write compelling characters, but there are times when the story steals the show, searing an impression into our soul. But the book ends and so does our investment in the characters—and like that, they are gone.