Crafting a story that is coherent, multi-layered, and truly captivating can be compared to conducting an orchestra while simultaneously playing all the instruments and composing the music. The task becomes even more intricate when you weave in different narratives, like multiple perspectives or timelines, making sure that your topics | multiple stories are seamlessly integrated for maximum impact.

While crafting multiple storylines can pose more challenges than focusing on a single, engaging narrative, it also offers the opportunity for rich, multi-dimensional stories that deepen the reader’s experience and engagement. With some planning and preparation, you can better navigate the challenges that come with writing multiple threads, no matter if you prefer to write spontaneously, outline your plot, or take a different approach. Moreover, you can assess the effectiveness of these multiple storylines in your narrative by reflecting on a few key questions.

Do You Really Need Multiple Storylines?

It certainly sounds like a fantastic idea to tell a story from the viewpoints of all the characters or to intertwine various timelines that affect or intersect with one another. However, not every story is suited for this approach. Be mindful of these signs that your narrative may not be as complex as you first thought:

• The narratives do not appear to have a significant relationship. However, they must be unfolding within the same manuscript for a reason. In what ways do they influence, impact, or reflect one another? What brings them together into a single, coherent story arc, topic, or concept—what makes each one essential? Do they support each other? Illuminate one another? Present, correlate, or even intersect various versions of the same plot? Without all the tales you’ve included, how would the overall plot arc be diminished or drastically changed?
• Either you’re adding unnecessary details or one storyline is falling apart. It could be a warning sign if the plot wraps up too quickly or if you’re struggling to flesh out the chapters. You might have supporting characters that aren’t meant to be focal points, or you could be trying to create a separate plot from what should remain as backstory.
• Every story has a character or plot that stands out as more enjoyable to write and more engaging to read. Writing can be challenging at times; you might hit a wall, find yourself at a dead end, or get distracted. If you or your early readers frequently struggle to grasp a particular point of view or plot element, it might be worth considering whether that aspect is truly meant to be a separate storyline. Just like making a U-turn in GPS navigation, writing (or reading) that feels like a chore suggests that you’ve gone off track and that the real path lies elsewhere.

Asking “What overall story are you telling, and whose story is it?” is one approach to verify this. You can identify which threads are intrinsic by clearly defining these responses, as well as by answering the following question.

Not Every Plot Line is Complete

Readers are often led to believe that a unique point of view or timeline in a novel is essential and plays a vital role in the overall narrative.

When a new perspective is introduced, readers tend to assume that the character is significant, leading to expectations for them to be well-developed, central to the story, and to have a clear character arc. Readers look for each plotline or timeline to be thoroughly explored, cohesive, and to possess its own narrative arc and resolution, especially in stories with multiple threads.

If a plotline falls short of these expectations, it may suggest that it would be more effective if integrated into the main storyline rather than existing as a separate thread.

How Does The Narrative Unfold?

Anxiety, despair, hair loss, exhaustion, and stomach issues are often associated with the complexity of various narratives.

While this might not be found in a medical journal, any writer juggling multiple storylines can likely relate to the challenge of crafting a strong, well-developed narrative for each plot while also weaving them into a cohesive whole.

A story featuring multiple storylines should not feel random or disjointed; rather, it should guide readers seamlessly between them, ensuring that each thread enhances, clarifies, reflects, or contributes to the others. This requires careful consideration of both the individual arcs and structures, as well as their interactions throughout the narrative.

The arcs of the characters may run parallel, or one protagonist might be thriving while the other is struggling, but whatever happens to one character in their storyline should connect to the experiences and growth of the other character or characters involved.

In romance novels, for instance, it’s common to alternate between the perspectives of the protagonist and the heroine in a straightforward, chronological manner. Each storyline offers a unique angle or insight into the other, yet both contribute to the overarching plot, with each character playing a vital role in the development of the other’s journey. A “past” storyline in a multi-timeline historical narrative often sheds light on a later or current storyline.

Allison Winn Scotch narrates the story of a couple’s relationship and eventual divorce from both perspectives in Between Me and You, alternating between viewpoints and timelines. The husband’s story unfolds in reverse chronological order, starting from the collapse of their marriage, coinciding with the downfall of his once-promising directing career. In contrast, the wife’s narrative progresses forward in time, beginning with her meeting her husband as her acting career begins to flourish. While the points of view are clearly defined, the timelines intertwine as they converge.

There are numerous alternatives to a linear structure for multiples. They can take on a “tree branched” format, where seemingly scattered threads converge back to a central trunk, as seen in Junot Diaz’s The Brief, Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao. Alternatively, they can be “chunked,” with several chapters from a single storyline grouped together, like in Brit Bennett’s The Vanishing Half. Additionally, as demonstrated in Camille DiMaio’s The Way of Beauty or Colson Whitehead’s The Nickel Boys, one plotline can serve as a framing device for a main narrative.

Various strategies are combined in some narratives. For instance, in All the Light We Cannot See, Anthony Doerr presents a linear progression of multiple timelines—one covering years and the other just days—while alternating point-of-view chapters in chronological order throughout different sections of the novel.

There are no strict “rules” for structuring multiple narratives, but it’s important to ensure that your arrangement allows you to answer positively to both of the following questions:

At The Beginning of Each Plot, Do You Reorient Readers?

Readers may become confused and you run the danger of losing them if you switch between tales.

Early on in each transition, it’s important to inform readers not just which thread they are in but also to provide “connective tissue” to remind them of where they left the protagonist of each thread when they last saw them and, if the plot has progressed, what has occurred to the characters since.

Simple devices like chapter titles, time or date lines, or section heads (such a character’s name) can be used to achieve the former. However, you can also use character voice (like in Shelby Van Pelt’s Remarkably Bright Creatures) or context (information about each narrative, the characters, historical facts, the place, etc.).

Do Readers Follow All of The Storylines Through to The End?

If readers lose interest in your book, they might set it aside and never return. It’s crucial to make each plotline essential, well-developed, and clearly organized to keep readers invested in every narrative thread.

Yet, this presents a more focused challenge: How do you maintain readers’ attention and curiosity in each chapter, especially when you switch perspectives to depict similar actions across different plotlines repeatedly throughout the story?

Do you often conclude your threads with a question, unresolved tension, or some form of cliffhanger, akin to the endings of chapters in a single-story narrative? In stories with multiple threads, it’s crucial to begin and end in the midst of action. Each time you divert readers from a captivating story, you create a hook that compels them to return. You then guide them to a point that feels particularly inconvenient for them at that moment.

You also introduce a fresh hook by beginning the new thread in the middle of the action, which pulls readers in, keeps the pace lively, and heightens the tension as the story progresses, only to repeat this technique again. When this approach is applied consistently, the narratives become “unputdownable,” captivating readers and compelling them to flip through the pages to uncover what’s happening in one storyline while being irresistibly pulled into another.