Plot holes are the most infuriating part of writing. Every time I’ve seriously wondered, “why do I enjoy this again? At what point in my life did I decide this self-torture was fun?” it’s because I was stuck on a plot hole.
I use the term ‘plot hole’ to refer to anything illogical or inconsistent that poses a problem to your story. This could be “oh shit, I want to suffocate Character A by trapping them in this room, but there’s no way it would be airtight!” Or it could be, “oh shit, I want this character to do x in scene A, but they can’t do that without information y, which isn’t supposed to be doled out until scene B, which wasn’t supposed to happen until later!” Or perhaps: “Character A needs to be make x decision to move the plot forward, but it seems out of character for them to do so.” Or maybe even: “The protagonist’s plan - which I had intended to be ingenious and foolproof - could actually be circumvented by the villain very easily.”
The list could go on.
I’ve written about plot holes before in this blog post, but I didn’t actually give any practical advice on how to solve them. Here was the sum total of my advice on the matter: “You’ve just got to put on your problem solving hat and bang your head against the desk until you figure it out. You need to ask yourself why every single element in your story is in there, until you find one that can be changed to make everything fit together.”
Although that’s technically true, it’s not terribly helpful.
So this is my in-depth plot-hole-solving method, developed through years of blood, sweat and tears. I don’t promise that it will be quick, easy or painless, but I can promise you this - there is a way to do it.
Repeat after me: There is ALWAYS a way to fix your plot hole.
Step 1:
Open up a fresh Word Document/Google Document/actual piece of paper/whatever you use to write. Write down what the problem is. Do it stream-of-consciousness style, there is no need to be grammatical or fancy. This is for you, and you alone. Pretend you are venting in your diary, or ranting to a friend. Be as specific and detailed as possible. Use profanity if you must. Don’t try to solve the problem yet, just draw a line around it. Get to the heart of the issue.
Step 2:
Write out every possible solution, no matter how patently ridiculous. Come up with as many different ones as you can. Don’t judge them yet, just aim for breadth. It’s likely that in order to fix your problem, you will have to sacrifice something, so be ruthless. Will it fix your problem to cut out a subplot? To change a major event? Add a scene of exposition? Fiddle with a backstory? Look at every element surrounding the problem (outlined in step 1) and ask yourself: Why is that there? Why have I done it that way and not another way? Could it be done differently?
Step 3:
Now go back and re-read each option that you came up with in step 2. Do any jump out at you as the obvious winner? If yes, congratulations! You solved your plot hole. If not, move on to step 4.
Step 4:
Analyse each of the options you came up with in step 2. Some will be ruled out easily. For the remainders, write out the pros and cons for each of them. Can the cons be overcome with a further solution? How perfect would that solution be? Continue eliminating options as it feels appropriate.
Step 5:
Pick between your remaining options. If you’re lucky, one will likely jump out at you as the best option, but occasionally you will have to side with one over the other for a relatively small reason. The point is to pick one.
Step 6:
Congratulations! You have fixed your plot hole. Now you just have to, you know, re-write the scene.
Or chapter.
Or book.
…
Here’s hoping it’s not the latter!