Here in the Midwest, we’re in midwinter—the time of endurance. We’ve made it through December’s solstice handoff, from the darkest day to the promise of light. And from my vantage point—a desk full of student story drafts—I’m struck by the similarities between a story’s midpoint, and this classic seasonal turning point towards the light.
In plot structure and the season’s solstice, there’s a clear midpoint demarcation. But we know, here in midwinter Wisconsin, bad weather doesn’t show signs of stopping. It’s going to get worse before it gets better. Do the same thing when you plot.
At the midpoint, mark a change in direction, and make things worse for your main characters. Plow your characters in, but make sure their snowblower is kaput, the Advil’s out of reach, and someone needs to get to the hospital. That last bit is key: force them not only to suffer, but be proactive about their problems. They need to have a reason to shovel out of what’s burying them under, and may need to get creative, even if it means asking for help from a shady neighbor as more snow falls.
What’s next in a plot’s middle? Midwinter keeps guiding us: Look no further than the sobering solemnity of Martin Luther King Junior Day. Even our mid-January social media feeds remind us we face not just difficulties pressing in from outside us, but darkness from within, “Every man must decide whether he will walk in the light of creative altruism or in the darkness of destructive selfishness.”
So during this midpoint counterpoint, you’re doing two things simultaneously in your plot: piling on external trouble and using it to force your protagonist to start soul searching. (The heavier soul-searching comes towards the end.)
The next calendar cue? The grace period of Valentine’s Day. Though our commercial culture inundates with an overkill of pink and red holiday paraphernalia, underlying the glitzy holiday is the heart’s real muscle–love, and its flex of goodness and kindness.
So as your characters shovel out of trouble, lighten the load with some angelic virtue, doubling down on heartening growth within. Despite the difficulties, light is returning—and readers should feel it, too, even if the sun is hard to see for the clouds.
But don’t let up on the tension quite yet. Good plot arcs feature an inner tug of war throughout, but especially during the midpoint. Counter those angelic voices with inner demons yet to be reckoned with.
The slog from here on out will rely on more signposts before the protagonist’s lesser or better angles win out at the end, but when the winter’s ice breaks and that glorious climactic turning point arrives, it will be all the better because of the enduring wisdom of midwinter.