Breaking Down Story Structure: MORNING GLORY, Act Two (first half)

(If you're new to story structure, we must split Act Two in half because it is twice as large as Act One and Act Three, and the midpoint of the entire story is found in the middle of Act Two.)

Welcome back!

Act One has done its job of introducing change into the protagonist's life and forcing her to make a tough decision, all while setting up the audience for the wilds of Act Two which begins with a section called the promise of the premise. This is the point where our unique concept/premise/conflict becomes abundantly clear to the audience.

As writers, before we can know what to include in the first half of Act Two we must first know what our premise is. You cannot develop what doesn't exist. This is why I always encourage you to draft a logline before drafting your novel. A good logline is like a lamp leading you through the dark unknown of your first draft.Without it you are writing blind and can easily lose your path, lose your focus, lose your passion for the idea that got you started on this journey.

Let's revisit the logline for Morning Glory, as brought out in last week's post:

Morning Glory is about an upstart television producer who accepts the challenge of reviving a struggling morning show with warring co-hosts.

The premise is all about the conflict, and the conflict is what drives the story. The specific conflict brought out in the logline must be apparent in the first half of Act Two. So what are we looking for in this part of the story that we haven't seen yet? A struggling morning show with warring co-hosts.

Becky was made aware of the show's struggles during her job interview, but at that time she was desperate and determined and entirely optimistic. Now she will see firsthand what "struggling" really means.

Her first day as executive producer of Daybreak must be awful or else the audience will not buy into this premise. They have to believe she's gotten herself into a mess, AND they have to want to know how she'll get herself out of it. Without those two things, you have lost your audience.

In the first scene of Act Two not only is Becky led through a physical mess as her new co-producer leads her through the studio's back passages and offices, but she is also not met with any kind of positivity. Everyone she encounters believes she will fail, because everyone they have seen in her position prior to her arrival has failed. Why should they think Becky will be any different?

So right away she has a problem to overcome. She must show them how she is different. She must show them why she's better than anyone before her. She must take charge of this mess and show it who's boss.

And Becky does just that. For about ten seconds it seems like there is nothing she can't handle as she fires off simple solutions to every single person's problems at their morning meeting. Then, because she's on a roll and because it needed to be done, she fires the current co-anchor. He was, to put it mildly, inappropriate. In Becky's own words, "he was lowering the morale of the show."

The people around her actually cheer. It's an accomplishment. She nailed her first day! This job is going to be great! Everything is wonderful!

Except that it really isn't.

Remember: nothing fails in storytelling like letting your lead character succeed. Although Becky has just conquered her first big challenge in her new role as executive producer of Daybreak, in doing so she created a much bigger problem. Her morning show is missing half its face. Now she must hire a new co-anchor, and her boss reminds her that she has no funds available to do it. Her solution? To promote someone already under contract with the network.

The first half of Act Two, especially this early part, has another very important job--it introduces the B Story. In novelist terms, this is the plot line that emphasizes the emotional theme of your novel, aka the protagonist's internal struggle. The A Story is your main plot (the protagonist's external struggle), and the B Story is your main subplot.

The B Story for Morning Glory was actually already hinted at a few times in Act One, but the hints were so subtle as to be easily missed. The audience doesn't realize they were baited until later, in Act Two, when the essential elements of the B Story are emphasized more directly. While Becky and her co-producer search through video footage of possible new co-anchors, he mentions that it's getting late and he needs to go home and see his kids. Then he asks, "Do you have kids?" and we remember that Becky is a career-first type woman who can't even get past the first date (remember the opening scene? ah, yes. *light bulb*). We know her answer will be no, but we bank this little moment for later and think perhaps a change is on the horizon.

Note also that the introduction of the B Story is done in a way that flows naturally with the A Story. It doesn't feel out of place. It doesn't feel like it was forced into the storyline. Most viewers would not even notice it for what it is--a structural element set in a specific place at a specific time.

Just after Becky awkwardly admitted to her co-producer that she has no kids and (heck no) she doesn't even have a boyfriend, she bumps into a guy on her way out of the office. This is the same guy she bumped into in the elevator in Act One, along with one of the network's top news anchors, but at that point it seemed like a chance meeting. Now as they're talking we think, Oh this might turn into something.

This little discussion is more than a friendly chat, though. It reminds Becky, and the audience, of the news anchor she bumped into before at the same time as this guy. She then learns that the network has the acclaimed news anchor Mike Pomeroy under contract, and he's being paid millions of dollars to do nothing because they couldn't come to an agreement after he signed.

An anchor who is already being paid and is in need of a position? This is the answer to her problem! Except that we never want things to be easy for the protagonist. As soon as she solves one problem, a bigger one must result.

Upon meeting with Mr. Pomeroy, it becomes clear he wants nothing at all whatsoever to do with a morning show because he doesn't consider it a real news broadcast. He is also a bitter, curmudgeonly old man. There is nothing to like about his character (yet). Becky does her darnedest to convince him, but in the end, the only thing that speaks clearly is the money in his contract and how he can lose it if he refuses her offer.

He does it for the money, despite hating every bit of what morning shows are about. And lo and behold! His co-anchor hates the idea of him being on Daybreak as much as he does. He represents everything she is not. He does nightly news, she does morning news, they are completely opposite. The next few scenes show clearly that these two couldn't be more unhappy with their new arrangement.

And our lovely protagonist is stuck between them. She must find a way to get them to work together without killing each other, and also in a way that boosts their plummeting ratings. With every scene that passes, our premise shines more brightly.

The next few scenes emphasize the specific conflict mentioned above (the A Story) in several different ways, while at the same time moving the story forward and dropping hints of foreshadowing for later events. And our protagonist's love life (the B Story) is developing further. The two plot lines come head to head when, in the middle of a raging makeout session, Becky has to leave her newfound love to prevent Pomeroy from sabotaging his first day on air, scheduled for the next day.

Now, everything that has been festering between Becky and Pomeroy, all the frustration, explodes. This is the kind of intense confrontation fiction thrives on. Becky steals Pomeroy from his all-night bender and forces him to go home so he will be alert the next morning for his first day on air. To ensure he doesn't abandon the show in the morning, she spends the night at his house.

This brings us to the midpoint of the movie, the point where things shift in a new direction without changing the premise. Which is tricky. And I have to admit that the midpoint shift in Morning Glory comes off a little weak. While there definitely is a feeling of new forward movement (Pomeroy is actually on the show now so increasingly worse problems can arise), I didn't get the feeling that the protagonist's viewpoint about anything significantly changed--that is the earmark of a good midpoint shift, and why it is often referred to as the midpoint reversal.

That being said, something very important does happen at the midpoint, but you don't realize the full weight of it until the story's climax. The morning of his on-air debut, Pomeroy makes a frittata for breakfast and rattles off little-known frittata facts during the whole process, which Becky all but ignores because they're running late. She sees this as just another thing that he's doing to annoy her.

But it isn't.

But we don't know that yet, so it comes off weak. A good midpoint actually feels like a shift, right then and there.

Even so, we learned a lot from analyzing the first half of Act Two:

• the events of this section make your unique premise/concept/main conflict, as highlighted in your logline, clear to the audience; this is where you make good on your promise of the premise

• right after the protagonist's decision to move forward at the Act Two break, she is presented with her first big hurdle in this new role

• any problem the protagonist overcomes successfully must result in/cause a bigger problem

• the B Story, already hinted at in Act One, is now directly and clearly introduced

• continually refreshing the conflict drives the story forward and increases tension

• the A Story (main plot; external struggle) and the B Story (main subplot; internal struggle) butt heads just before the midpoint, resulting in a shift in the protagonist's viewpoint or main goal that takes the story in a new, more intense/risky direction without changing the basic premise

Also, taking a look at the comedic structure of this particular piece, the first half of Act Two is prime real estate for the introduction of running gags and repetitive character quirks. There is also an abundance of terrific dialogue in this movie for anyone looking to study the fine art of humor writing. If you haven't seen Morning Glory, or haven't watched it recently, I highly recommend doing so before we get into the second half next week.

Until then, Happy Writing!

~Lydia