How to Twist (and Shout) - Kishotenketsu · 6:31pm Aug 2nd, 2017
Did you know there's only one story in the world? It's called the Hero's Journey, or Hero With A Thousand Faces. Literally every story you write is a repackaged form of this traditional myth. Right? 
Nahh, of course that's ridiculous. People want to believe it's that easy, so they'll squeeze every story into that model, even when it doesn't really fit. It's an effective set of themes, but hardly the only option.
Because we really know it's not about themes, but story structure. There's only one of those in the world, called the narrative arc. Literally every story you write follows that traditional structure. Right?
There's this Japanese term you might've heard thrown around. Or you might've seen some east asian stories/movies, and they feel really different for reasons you can't identify.
This is about a strange storytelling technique that's commonly associated with twist endings, but they're not limited to that. Twists get kind of a bad reputation, especially when they're done badly by certain directors. After all, they feel like a cheap gimmick to shock people, get them talking about a non-sequitur they didn't see coming, even though that seems to go against all of our instincts of good story writing.
On FimFic and the WriteOffs, I see people trying to do clever story twists, and usually they fall flat. I don't blame them, because it's very difficult. Readers react, "oh not another twist," and the cycle continues, thinking they're a trashy way of resolving a story. I think we just need someone to teach how to properly do it.
I'm gonna teach you how to properly do it.
In theory. I hope.
Even if you don't like twists, or don't want to write them, I think there's something unexpected you can still learn from this. Because like I said, it's not limited to twist endings, or Japanese movies. There's something weird going on in storytelling.
I know what you're thinking, there's gonna be a crazy twist at the end of this blogpost itself.
Well you're wrong. I'm actually going to start with the twist right here.
One day I wanted to look up a precise definition of a story's climax. I kinda understand it from listening to others, and hearing it in context, but how can I really narrow it down? I'm really late on figuring out this writing stuff, so I wanted to see what established wisdom says.
I discovered something hilarious from websites that tried to show some famous examples.
The deaths of Romeo (who kills himself because he thinks Juliet is dead) and Juliet (who kills herself when she awakes and sees Romeo dead).
source
In William Shakespeare’s play “Romeo and Juliet”, the story reaches its climax in Act 3. In the first scene of the act, Romeo challenges Tybalt to a duel after he (Tybalt) killed Mercutio (...)
As soon as he killed Tybalt, Romeo says: “O! I am Fortune’s Fool!”
He realizes that he has killed his wife’s cousin.
source
Um... is it the 3rd act or the 5th act? y'all fancy writers can't agree what a climax even is 
I'm pretty sure the first website is right. You usually can't put the climax in the exact middle of the story. I know it's called a narrative arc but it's really weird to think it needs to be a completely symmetrical graph. don't take graphs too literally, especially when they show half the story as "falling action" (the second website went on to explain that the climax of Heart of Darkness is when Marlowe begins his journey in the steam boat. what? 
)
Speaking of Romeo and Juliet, there's a famous essay you might've seen before. Check out Film Crit Hulk's Myth of 3 Act Structure. It uses Romeo and Juliet as an example for how Shakespeare structured his stories. Within 5 acts, not the commonly accepted 3.
The point you should take away from his essay isn't that the specific number of acts is important. He finds 5 acts to be a better teaching model, but he also says how some movies can have 9 or 20 acts. The problem is that most people saying "stories are 3 acts" don't actually know what an act signifies, or how to use one. There's no structure to the story's ingredients, they're tossed around in the middle. You have to know how to use acts to structure a story, not know the magic number.
And when he talks about Romeo killing Tybalt, he calls it a Turning Point. It's a mini-climax that moves the story forward, but doesn't end it. This is why that stupid writing website confused it for the real climax, because it's used for a similar purpose. Like a fractal, studying a smaller part of the whole shows it has a similar pattern as the whole.
Unexpectedly, all of this taught me the meaning of "climax" better than all those sterile definitions about TENSION and CRISIS POINT. It's a decision and an action. Based on what came before, it leads to what happens next. The characters keep making decisions until the biggest one of all comes. That's the climax! Show that action, wrap it up with a quick denouement. There's no more story to tell, because there's no more decisions to make.
Got all that? Good. Now toss it all away. We won't be needing it here!!!!
Let's visit Japan.
Actually, no. We'll be visiting the part of the internet where westerners gush about what they think they know about Japan. Almost as good.
It's a weird word I saw mentioned a few times. Kishoutenketsu. What's it mean?
This is a commonly linked article, The significance of plot without conflict. People walk away from this feeling awed.
It explains nothing about kishoutenketsu. It doesn't show good examples, or how it's used. It's just one long rant about how it's superior to Western structure, because there's no conflict. Western cultures are inherently violent because their stories are about violent conflict, crushing other viewpoints, domination and eurocentrism. (Meanwhile, Japan has been a island of totally peaceful hippies for centuries. Right? )
Late warning: don't bother reading it. It's nonsense.
But there's an interesting point to take away from this, about western stories being about violent conflict, and "quasi-gladiatorial victory". I think they're taking "conflict" waaaay too literally. Are you a fan of that MLP show this whole site is based on? I bet you could, off the top of your head, name at least a dozen episodes that have a conflict with no violence. How many of those also have a conclusion, not where one character wins over another, but through the power of friendship both characters get what they want?
I think there's something alarming when people see these articles that say "Japanese stories don't have conflict" and think they can do the same too now. It's a possibility and some examples have proven it can be done (like Totoro). It's also a trap, because a story that's meant to have a conflict becomes very dull when the author avoids one. And we all know how tempting it is to make everything go perfectly, our protagonist gets along with all characters, nothing bad happens. Oops, we created a Mary-Sue.
Anyway, here's another popular thing that tries to explain Kishoutenketsu! A youtube video on Super Mario 3D's level design. Individual levels use a certain structure to teach new mechanics and gimmicks in a certain pattern.
It gives a hint of what this is all about. You can see this in certain videogames, like Portal. You learn how to put blocks on buttons, and you learn how to walk through portals. Instead of merely ramping both up, becoming more complicated and difficult, the game mashes them together. Every new technique in those games is advanced not by adding more moving parts, but by constantly combining them with other techniques. (For a contrast, see the user-created levels in Portal 2, where techniques are just thrown everywhere to make them super-difficult)
But reading through the comments there made me think nobody's picking up on how this is used, because it focuses far too much on the "safe introduction" ideas.
This is kinda like what Egoraptor explained in his Megaman sequelitis about how Megaman games always taught you the mechanics of the level in a safe environment, without tutorials, and then put your skills to the test with more complicated challenges that ended in a boss fight. Interesting!?
no no, that's just a standard climax....
It's interesting because this is basically how a lot of uni math courses are taught: 1.) Introduce problem types in lectures, a safe place. 2.) Force you to solve the problems in assignments, where there are consequences. 3.) Introduce new twists on problems in exams/quizzes, to make you use the techniques in different ways.
no no, that's just a standard arc of rising tension...
I think everyone's getting the wrong message from this.
STARTING OVER.
funny how Wikipedia explains this better. Kishotenketsu is a 4-part word to describe the 4 parts of a traditional form of poetry. Introduction, Development, Twist, and Conclusion. Though it began in poetry, the pattern's been borrowed in many other narrative art forms. I'm just gonna steal that example.
Introduction (ki): Daughters of Itoya, in the Honmachi of Osaka.
Development (sho): The elder daughter is sixteen and the younger one is fourteen.
Twist (ten): Throughout history, generals killed the enemy with bows and arrows.
Conclusion (ketsu): The daughters of Itoya kill with their eyes.
(Every single website on the internet I looked for more information, reused the exact same traditional example.)
There's an introduction and buildup, but there's no conflict. No goal. No climax. No decision. No falling action. No denouement.
But is it not a story?
Actually, there is one website that was extremely helpful on this, called Tofugu. They're passionate about Japanese culture, but unlike all the others they actually know stuff about it, instead of speculating on what it's like from the outside. They can explain why something is different.
Here's a great article, The Skeletal Structure of Japanese Horror Fiction. Towards the end they go into Kishotenketsu, and how it creates horror stories without conflict. It's funny how their horror stories have become so popular in the west, because they point out how similar they are to many of our traditional horror stories! There's two good western examples there, broken down into the 4 beats so you can see them.
I'm not a fan of horror stories, but I'll get back to this later.
Here's another great article, The Mindset of Japanese Arguments, showing how Kishotenketsu is a structure used in rhetoric as well. I'd like to note the mention of Jo-Ha-Kyuu structure, which appears to be very similar to western narrative arcs. Apparently Noh plays also use this 5-act structure: starting slow, speeding up until the high point, then ending suddenly. Noh is performed over the course of a day, across 5 different plays grouped together. Can you guess what order they're arranged in? (again, that fractal pattern idea from earlier). Maybe the whole narrative arc isn't inherently western at all, but more universal than we thought (I think it's a metaphor for sex).
Anyway, back to the weird structure.
The reason this style draws such ire from the Western writing community is because the concluding Ketsu section tends to introduce a new element. In Western rhetoric the conclusion is a place to tie old knowledge together, wrap a little bow around it, and call it quits. It is inadvisable to add a new piece of information in the conclusion of a typical Western piece of writing.
I think here's the key for why this is so useful to study. It introduces something new. Whether used in rhetoric or poetry or horror, they technically end, but don't quite resolve.
A narrative arc is about action, coming from decisions. The action begins, grows in intensity, then returns to rest.
Kishotenketsu is about ideas. It starts with one idea, then has another slam into it out of nowhere. Instead of returning to rest, both of them have deflected off into space.
Like a fission reaction, it's forming new ideas. New ideas don't just stop. They lead to new ones of their own.
What's really scary in horror? Often, it's what you build up in your mind, because you're scaring yourself. The Xenomorph in Alien isn't that scary by itself, it's just a silly rubber suit if you look at it closely. The gore scenes are shocking, but aren't inherently scary. What's scary is all those moments you can't see it. You start imagining that you see it in the dark, in the background. It keeps changing forms and using new abilities, so you imagine what it might do to you when it catches you. What they show on screen can never scare you as much as the ideas you've built up within your mind.
But how does the Twist work? Why that sudden non-sequitur? It seems unintuitive. Alien doesn't really have much in twists, it ends with an exciting climax. I have a few horror examples that fit the twist better.
The Enigma of Amigara Fault, by Junji Ito aka "This hole is made for me!" This one's been passed around the internet, thanks to the meme. If you haven't seen it before, you can read it there, it's only 32 comic pages long. It might give you nightmares.
I think the twist here is the prehistoric dream toward the end. Unlike the previous events and dreams, this one has nothing to do with the current situation. It likely doesn't explain the origins of these holes. It doesn't develop the current characters. It doesn't change anyone's mind, it's just a dream. It's useless information, a pointless diversion in the plot.... at least under western traditions.
The point of this dream is provide a new idea -- a fear showing what might happen under certain circumstances. It's creepy, but it's quickly over. Because it sticks out of the natural progression of the plot, it sticks out, and you'll temporarily remember it, wondering about its significance.
Then we reach the conclusion on the last two pages. Seeing what's on those panels, your mind will assemble all the ideas presented so far, and reach a conclusion. A horrifying visual image. "Wait, is this what's happening?" and immediately after that thought enters your mind, the artwork gives a quick glimpse of the final result, confirming that your inner fears were exactly correct.
It's thrilling, but not really a climax, which I identified earlier as being about a decisive action. Even though it confirmed it with the last panel, all the horror was built within your mind, by putting two ideas together.
Here's a fanfic which goes more for a minimalistic, unsettling type of fear. Pretty sure the author had no idea what kishotenketsu is at the time, but intuitively used horror twists for a powerful payoff. Only 1k words, go read it.
The story's logic begins with the situation, and develops it. The twist here is when Apple Bloom sees Diamond Tiara. At this point the reader should wonder, "wait, what?" That's not what you were lead to assume, right? The first half of the story misled you. Combine the info together, and you come to the chilling conclusion.
Again, no climax. I guess you could say it's about a character's decision, but it's not built up as a turning point of any significance. It confirms some your ideas, but doesn't even show what's physically happening, or what's happening next. That's up to you, because you built up the unsettling fears on your own. It ends on a question.
Like I said in the beginning, don't just restrict these to twist endings used as a surprise gimmick. Horror is a good example of where ideas can be more powerful than what you "see" on the page, but let's look at how else it can be used.
There was that one blog post I made about a Japanese music video with a neat gimmick. I felt like it was a story, but I couldn't explain what exactly it was doing. Now it seems so obvious...
The old post linked to a blocked video on youtube, which requires a mirror site, which never seems to work. Since then, I discovered a lower quality version here, Yoru no Odoriko, which should be much easier to view. Watch it now, and see what I mean.
It's an absolutely perfect example of kishotenketsu. The gradual zoom-in on the band, the nighttime lighting, it takes a simple visual idea and develops it in fun ways. Then that twist happens, and I get goosebumps every time I see the modern schoolgirl appear. Everything you assumed was slightly off. It was all from a hidden character's perspective. Now that you have that new perspective, the story is planted in your mind. You know what you saw, but you're stuck with even more questions. It's beautiful.
I have more musical examples. I once mentioned I had something to say about Spring and a Storm, by Tally Hall. The lyrics oddly fit this too. The song begins by mixing themes of rain and singing and futility, then interrupts it all with that childlike bit about Mr. Moon. The last section uses that to combine all the metaphors together into a tale of the birth, cycles, and death of the universe. Such a haunting effect.
Or how about the Rolling Stones? The Live With Me is all about this satirical twist. 8 lines of each verse describe this character's absurd household of English nobility, only to then interrupt with an unexpected question in 2nd person. It's a raunchy marriage proposal. You never heard the answer, but do you need to?
Like watching magic tricks? Ever seen any revealed and explained? 
Even with the knowledge from the clear plastic cups version, you still wouldn't be able to perform this, without a lot of training. The "secret" is the boring part of the trick, they're just moving balls around where you can't see them. The hard part is practicing all the timing and misdirection.
When you're led to believe that a cup is empty, then suddenly they show a ball inside, that's when your mind gets jolted out of its comfort zone. Did the laws of reality suddenly break? Or were you fooled by your senses and perception? Hopefully you conclude it's the latter, because people who lean towards the former are vulnerable to scammers.
Would the trick be anywhere near as effective if the magicians never did anything to make you think the cups are empty? There would be no twist. "Ta da, there's a ball" 
"Yeah. So what?"
This magic trick looks perfectly normal and unimpressive until Penn starts explaining how it's done.
Why do so many writers start out by writing a story with a twist, but without any misdirection?
I suspect they're still stuck in the narrative arc type of thinking. Everything needs to lead logically from one point to another, unbroken. Then when the twist hits, it usually feels obvious (because everything was foreshadowed as leading up to this), or it feels arbitrary (because it's so random, but doesn't merge with previous ideas to plant anything new).
You have to break this type of thinking, by understanding how people think.
Oh no, not this Hot and Cool stuff again. This is slightly different, borrowing some of that, but ignore all the pedantic classification that people like to argue over. Think of them as modes of interaction. One is passive, favoring unbroken linear sequences and logic. The other is actively engaging with the nonlinear and filling in the blanks.
I think plot holes aren't necessarily a bad thing in fiction. When they're small, the readers can fill in empty little details with their own experiences and nothing is lost. When plot holes become too big, requiring bigger assumptions to hold everything together, then the reader notices and gets uncomfortable. "Why am I doing the work here? I could come up with my own story", or something like that.
It's much like when watching a magic trick. People's minds unconsciously fill in blanks of what they can't see with assumptions. This closure works great in daily life, but leads to "magic" when someone's actively taking advantage of your passive state to fool you.
In the WriteOffs, we keep learning the same silly lesson, "don't be too subtle". Don't assume your readers will pore over your fic looking for hidden clues and meaning. They want to sit back, and you have to bring the meaning directly to them by showing what's important.
Here's what I think.
- Subtlety doesn't work, because we're not expecting that much activity when reading.
- Interrupting that passive train of thought is the best time to make someone start thinking.
This is what the twist in Kishotenketsu is for. It serves as a large intentional plot hole, used in a way to invite the reader to participate. In that mode they're more aware of the work as a whole, and can form abstract connections.
It has to be (mis)directed just right. This is what I recently noticed happens in feghoots, a type of joke story that ends with a twist. They don't work at all when linearly built up. They need misdirection. When nothing makes sense, the reader needs some kind of grounding to latch on to, something that explains the bizarre logic.... only to find at the punchline that everything they assumed was wrong. Then they can analyze the terrible puns and realize what was going on. The key here is to not let them switch modes until everything's ready for them to think.
Your Name is one last amazing example I want to use. (oh no not this again, Haze is obsessed with this movie) (Minor spoilers ahead, but not revealing the main plot) Individual scenes use this kishotenketsu structure, making you see something, realize you're looking at it from the wrong perspective, then make sense of it yourself. For example, when the girl takes a cellphone photo of her food, then she lowers the phone and the food is no longer on the plate (even though it's the same shot), indicating that it's been eaten. Time/visuals have skipped over that event, and you have to catch up. It's whimsical and surprising, meant to involve the viewer, but not too heavily. It does this a lot so it can deliver the BIG twist.... by fooling you. Some moderate plot holes appear, continuity doesn't match, but you're already used to filling those in because it's the director's style. When it reveals what really happened in that "plot hole", everything you've assumed about the story is thrown upside-down. Now that your passive state has been completely broken, it asks a frightening philosophical question. Not explicitly on-screen, but one that's been formed within your mind.
You could never do that with a narrative arc.
The kishotenketsu structure doesn't do the hard part for you. Remember, this is all about ideas, re-examining them with new information, or a new perspective, or combining them with new ideas.
Do you have any ideas of your own?
Or do you just read stories?
By the way, here's your Twist Ending!
i.imgur.com/0YCmYNo.gif
huh... So would the "space flea from nowhere" trope , or how it is usulay done, be an example of doing this sort of structure badly? or applying the structure to the wrong kind of story?
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Hrmm, I would say it's not using this structure, since it's still building up to a climax, it just delivers a "wrong" one that doesn't logically fit.
it's the kind of thing where the reader thinks, "why wasn't this foreshadowed?" instead of "I was looking at this wrong." They feel like it's the author's fault, not their own.