Last Open Mike day, Emily mentioned in the comments that she was having trouble figuring out a subplot. I started an answer, then realized I had a lot to say and that some of it would probably be of interest to other people, too. So I decided to treat it as sort of a case study.
My subplots usually come about in one of three ways: first, I have a general hole to fill in the story; second, I have a specific hole to fill in the story; and third, they develop organically (that is, halfway through the manuscript, I realize that I have mentioned Janet’s missing bicycle four times, and I am therefore going to have to tie that loose end up somehow before the end of the book). No matter which way the subplots come about, though, they hardly ever arise in a vacuum. They have to fit the story.
In this case, the writer’s subplot is the second sort, and it has specific requirements in order to fit the story. It needs to be about the protagonist’s job. It can’t be important enough to overshadow the main emotional plotline, but it needs to be a bit more than minor stage-setting because this story is part of a series about people who work in this office complex.
The key things I picked up from the comments were: The central plotline is the emotional one (the protagonist’s relationship with her birth mother and found family). The author wants the subplot to focus on the protagonist’s job, something relatively low-stakes that lets a competent clerk (the protagonist) display her abilities, but that won’t overshadow the main plot. The protagonist’s mother is in charge of the complex where the protagonist works as a newbie clerk in an office that handles a wide variety of paperwork for different magical races.
Job-related subplots generally involve either something specifically related to the normal duties of the job itself (the data entry looks weird, the forms are wrong, the customer on the phone is angry about shipment delays), something related to an event (the boss needs slides for tomorrow’s big meeting, the board members are coming through on their annual tour, there’s a Really Important Customer showing up/complaining), or something related to coworkers (Jason in accounting never cleans up the break room, it’s your turn to bring cupcakes for the monthly “birthday party,” Susan in the next desk over wants to gossip instead of working, Nat always hassles newbies for the first few weeks, etc.) There are plenty of choices for relatively minor, non-job-threatening problems; the important thing is to pick one that links back to the main story in some way (other than just being another part of the protagonist’s life).
For this story, the author has two different possible ways to link the subplot to the story. First, since the protagonist’s birth mother is in charge of the complex, the protagonist can worry (needlessly or with reason) about Mom’s reaction, or it could be something that comes up because someone learns she is Mom’s daughter, and either doesn’t think she’s competent or wants to use the connection to get a promotion for themselves. Second, since the protagonist’s story is part of a series about this office, there could be an office-related background plot arc/problem that crops up in every character’s story in some way. Note that these are not mutually exclusive possibilities.
Focusing on the second possibility first: an ongoing plot arc that would affect multiple characters in minor ways would probably have to involve differences between the magical races the office serves. For a series-subplot-arc of this sort, you’d want to begin with really minor things—maybe in the first story, the vending machine runs out of the only thing a particular race can eat/drink, while the second story has a mix-up in the forms for a different race. Minor things that don’t seem connected, and don’t look important to anyone except to the poor newbie who would get reprimanded for mixing up the refreshments or grabbing the wrong forms or some such. But then there’s a slightly more serious incident, and it slowly starts to dawn on people that Something Is Going On. This kind of subplot can be tricky, especially if it stretches over more than three or four books/stories because the longer it lasts, the more carefully it has to be planned and paced in order not to take over. On the flip side, if it hasn’t progressed too far, the writer can abandon the arc fairly easily by deciding that the incidents really are just unconnected bad luck.
The second possibility—tying the protagonist’s work subplot to the central emotional plot—is easy for this particular setup, since the central plot revolves around the protagonist’s relationship with her birth mother, who is a senior manager (or some sort of senior executive) at this particular office/branch. Depending on where the main plot ends up, the subplot can reinforce it or contrast with it. For instance, if the central plot ends in a good relationship between Mom and the protagonist, the protagonist’s job performance can succeed and impress Mom (reinforcing), or the protagonist can screw up and disappoint Mom a bit (contrasting with the success in the main plotline). Or, if the central plot ends up with a not-so-good relationship, the protagonist can succeed on the job (reluctantly impressing Mom and contrasting with the main plot), or fail on the job (reinforcing the poor impression/not-so-good relationship with Mom). It can even have a mixed result, with the protagonist succeeding/failing and then realizing that she doesn’t care about impressing Mom any more (whether because they have a good relationship now, unrelated to job performance, or because she realizes that her immediate boss’s support and/or her found family are more important to her now). Or the job subplot could be so minor that the protagonist only wishes it was something that would impress her mother (the head of the office complex is unlikely to care whether the coffee in room 034 was properly decaffeinated, unless it wasn’t and somebody got sick because of it).
Deciding on the specifics depends on the kind of story the author wants to write.
Thank you! This is really helpful.
After thinking over your reply to my original comment on the Open Mic post, I decided the subplot is going to involve an annual report where the protagonist’s office has to collect data about all the other areas of the complex. It’s a huge tedious job that everyone hates, and the protagonist, as the newbie, gets stuck with the legwork of running around the complex gathering the data. In the process she notices something odd (I haven’t yet figured out what) about part of it, but nobody wants to hear about it because they just want to get the report finished and off their desks. The protagonist decides to look into the discrepancy herself, partly in hopes of catching her mother’s attention and impressing her.
I think the tie-in will fall under the “mixed results” category in your ending paragraph here – she does manage to impress her mother, but realizes that doesn’t matter as much to her as it did to begin with.
I learned something new today.
I know I’ve blathered enough on here about how I almost always start with theme, where most authors realize what their theme was afterwards.
Reading this, I realized I don’t think in terms of subplots at all…I couldn’t tell you what they were in my current novel or any of the previous ones. I’d have to think about it…and realize what they were afterwards.
I learned something new today. I found out I’m even weirder than I thought!! 🙂
I had the same reaction: subplots? Do I have those? I write long books, surely I must. But I don’t think about this at all.
The current WIP, like a lot of my stories, falls into sections: Kay as zookeeper, Kay as novice colony-controller, Kay as political operative. Those aren’t subplots though, as I understand it: the structure is Step A, then Step B, then Step C.
Okay. They have a conflict with their southern neighbor that they’re using as training for the skills they’ll need later. That conflict is, I guess, a subplot. It doesn’t matter what exactly happens to southern neighbor, as long as it doesn’t derail the story, and as long as they learn something they can use against their real opponents. Because the details don’t matter as much, I need to be sparing in introducing named characters and complex backstory related to this conflict.
This particular centipede leg seems to mostly take care of itself, unlike many of them (especially the legs in charge of carrying us to an ending). Like you, I really do not think about it at all.
I thought about it overnight, and my process is a little different, I think, though the result is about the same. I’ll be writing along, and have a world-building or characterization thought, along the lines of, “Hey, why would this be the only creature/place/person who can do x?”
Then I introduce whatever that creature preys on, showing why the ability is there, or introduce some history as to why it was created, etc. And then, having introduced it, try to build up a little more around it so, as set-up, it has payoff. Something like that.