Ornith & Gideon
Gideon Gideon
Have you ever noticed how the rise and fall of a novel’s plot can mirror an ecosystem’s succession cycle? I’m curious what your data say about the rhythm of climax and resolution.
Ornith Ornith
The data line up with what you’re saying—climax is usually the peak of the plot’s “entropy” curve, and resolution is the dampening that follows. If you chart the intensity of conflict over the length of a novel, most books hit their highest point around the 60‑70 % mark, then the narrative begins to taper off. It’s like an ecosystem after a disturbance: the climax is the burst of species—or stakes—at the highest level, and the resolution is the gradual re‑establishment of balance. In short, the rhythm of climax and resolution mirrors a succession cycle, with the peak followed by a settling back toward equilibrium.
Gideon Gideon
That’s a neat way to frame it, but the curve isn’t a rule. Good writers play with the shape—some spike early, some late, some keep it flat. The data give a baseline, but the craft is in deciding when to bend it.
Ornith Ornith
Exactly—data give you the average contour, but the art is in shifting the peaks. A writer can move that high point to the opening, or stretch the rise over the whole story, and the narrative feels fresh. It’s like tweaking the soil in an ecosystem; you keep the underlying rules, but you decide how the plants spread.
Gideon Gideon
You’re right—data can only sketch the outline. The real artistry is in choosing where the line bends, where the quiet before the storm lingers, and when to let the reader catch their breath. Remember, the best stories aren’t those that follow the curve, but those that subvert it in a way that feels inevitable. Keep testing those peaks, but always ask whether the shift feels earned, not just clever.