Aim for the Heart: Crafting a Killer Midpoint

By Michelle Barker and David Griffin Brown

In order to keep a reader engaged, what you’re aiming for throughout a novel is drama, and the most effective way to achieve drama is through conflict. The midpoint is a great tool for revving up the drama and conflict by providing a surprise turnaround that shakes up the story.

What might this look like? Something big could happen as a result of your protagonist’s attempts to solve their problem—an argument, a murder, some upheaval at work. Or perhaps your protagonist has an important epiphany. There’s a change of direction, a change of heart. It’s a turning point. Often, it’s the moment when your protagonist realizes their goal will be harder to achieve than they at first thought. They’ve learned something new and disheartening. The stakes go up. The chances of success go down.

In The Hobbit, the midpoint comes when Bilbo encounters Gollum and wins the One Ring through cleverness and courage. Until this point, he’s largely been along for the ride, but this moment transforms him into an active, capable member of the company. The stakes rise as Bilbo realizes his own resourcefulness—and that he may be far more important to the quest than he imagined.

In 1984, the midpoint comes when Winston accepts O’Brien’s invitation, believing that he’s part of the resistance. In reality, O’Brien works for the Thought Police. This moment shifts Winston's strategy from cautious defiance to active rebellion—and seals his fate.

In A Game of Thrones, the midpoint occurs when Eddard Stark is arrested for treason. His removal from power has massive consequences for his family and dramatically raises the stakes in the battle for the throne.

In The Hunger Games, the midpoint occurs when Katniss destroys the Careers’ food supply. Before this moment, she’s focused on survival and avoidance, but her bold act of defiance changes the power balance in the arena. The stakes rise dramatically, and Katniss shifts from passive player to active force in the Games.

A Knife in the Dinner Table 

Author Chuck Wendig likens the midpoint of a novel to a knife stuck in a dinner table. We like this analogy because of its dramatic power. It expresses the full impact that the midpoint can potentially have. It should hit hard. Wendig also sees the midpoint as a catapult. It’s the moment, the event, the realization, that launches the characters into the second half of the book.

We like to think of a midpoint functioning on two levels: external and internal. Externally, perhaps an event happens that makes the protagonist’s problem far worse than they expected. Internally, it’s the moment when they understand what they’ll have to do to solve it. Who they’ll have to become. It’s a look-in-the-mirror moment, a this-is-going-to-cost-you moment. Is your protagonist willing to do what it takes? It forces a change in tactics, and it might mark a shift in agency from reacting to acting.

Not every midpoint looks the same. While some midpoints deliver a reversal—a dramatic change in the protagonist’s narrative goal—others might introduce a major obstacle, a thematic shift, or a mini-climax that heightens tension without changing direction. What all strong midpoints share is that they deepen conflict and raise the stakes. Whether it’s an unexpected complication or an internal reckoning, the midpoint should propel the story forward with renewed urgency.

Resist the Temptation to Throw in New Business

We come across this problem quite often in clients’ manuscripts: throwing in new plot business when you’re stuck in the mushy middle and don’t know what should happen next, rather than deepening the elements that already exist. Something completely new might be just the thing to shake up a story, right?

No. Usually, it creates more problems rather than solving any. Adding new business to a developing story makes it feel scattered and unfocused. More often than not, it’s an and then this happened sort of thing, which is a red flag that we’re entering an anecdotal segment. It will likely feel random and won’t be causally connected to what has happened up to that point.

New business shouldn’t be necessary if you’ve taken the time to outline and have made sure all your plot points are causally connected. This is more often a “pantsing” issue. Chances are the clues to your perfect midpoint are buried somewhere in the first half of your novel and you need to go back and dig around in there to find them.

Causality Is Key

Every obstacle a protagonist faces should be caused either by something that has already happened or by an attempt to solve the main problem of the story. A novel should look like a house of cards. If you can pull out any card (scene or chapter) without a whole wing of the house collapsing, you’ve probably added extraneous business that either doesn’t need to be there or should be causally woven into the story. 

A successful midpoint will take the mush out of the middle of your novel and keep your readers up late, eager to find out what happens next. 

In Summary: Escaping the Mushy Middle

The midpoint is a crucial moment in a narrative, sparking a profound change in the protagonist’s path and raising the stakes of their journey. This turning point, marked by both external events and internal realizations, serves to intensify the reader’s emotional engagement, compelling them to find out what happens next.

A knife in the dinner table: The midpoint should have a strong impact on the story, akin to a knife stuck in a dinner table. It’s the event or realization that propels the characters into the second half of the book.

Two levels of impact: Midpoints can happen on both external and internal levels. Externally, an event might worsen the protagonist’s problem, while internally, they come to understand the extent of what they must do (or become) to solve it.

Resisting new business: Often, writers feel tempted to introduce new elements or plot problems in the middle of the story when they’re unsure of what should happen next. However, this can make the story feel scattered and unfocused. Instead, writers should deepen the conflict that already exists.

Causality is key: The obstacles a protagonist faces should be causally connected to previous events or attempts to solve the story’s main problem. If any scene or chapter can be removed without a huge impact to the overall narrative, it is likely extraneous and needs to be woven more tightly into the story.

Michelle Barker is an award-winning author and poet. She is the co-author of two craft books: Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling and Story Skeleton: The Classics. Her fiction, non-fiction, and poetry have appeared in literary reviews worldwide. She has published three YA novels (one fantasy and two historical fiction), a historical picture book, and a chapbook of poetry. Michelle holds a BA in English literature (UBC) and an MFA in creative writing (UBC). Many of the writers she’s worked with have gone on to win publishing contracts and honours for their work. Michelle lives and writes in Vancouver, Canada.

David Griffin Brown is an award-winning short fiction writer and co-author of Immersion and Emotion: The Two Pillars of Storytelling and Story Skeleton: The Classics. He holds a BA in anthropology from UVic and an MFA in creative writing from UBC, and his writing has been published in literary magazines such as the Malahat Review and Grain. In 2022, he was the recipient of a New Artist grant from the Canada Council for the Arts. David founded Darling Axe Editing in 2018, and as part of his Book Broker interview series, he has compiled querying advice from over 100 literary agents. He lives in Victoria, Canada, on the traditional territory of the Songhees and Esquimalt Nations.