The Flaw in JKR's (Brilliant) Plan

JK Rowling is absolutely brilliant. There is no other way of thinking of her talent in my mind. But as Dumbledore acknowledged, any person of extraordinary intelligence is also prone to some mistakes (though I don't believe JKR's to be rather large).

I will not cover the details of some flaws in JKR's techniques that I did in Labor Pains in the Birth of a Phenomenon -- And Why it Should Give You Hope (adverbs, POV, exclamation points), but rather would like to look at a few grand overview items that one sees more clearly once reaching the end of Deathly Hallows.

First, in a way, I believe that JKR bit off a bit more than she could chew through the middle of the series. Because she has such a honed talent for weaving in subtextual details of clues and mythical references, and her readers developed such a strong instinct for hunting them out, she unfortunately built up some expectations that could not be met. Whether from pressure to get the last book out as soon as possible, or her own inner desire to be done with it, I and many other fans felt that there were a few too many threads left dangling. Nothing of major import, but stuff that had been hinted at and not brought to full fruition.

Perhaps one of the reasons for this sense of loss is due to the abrupt change of venue for the final book. While I completely understand the rationale for having Harry, Ron and Hermione wander in the desert, I mean the forest, for so long, it did get a bit too long and tedious. Plus, it left the reader with the unsatisfied desire to live in Hogwarts again and see the completion for themselves of the other characters' growths. While we're told what has happened to members of Dumbledore's Army and the beloved staff during the final battle, and see them in action for a couple of chapters, it's not the same as living and interacting with them throughout the whole novel.

In the end, I somehow wished that JKR could have imagined another way to have Harry's final journey intersect with the castle more often. And if that had happened, I think some of those dangling loose ends would have been knitted up nicely.

As writers, especially those writing a series, or even those considering that oft-touted "brand," this is a point worth considering in your own work. If you take your next story in an abrupt departure from those that have come before, how will your reader handle it?  Will your readers follow you?  Or will you be charting out new territory alone?

Finally, I will discuss one small detail that nagged at me and didn't seem to have been fully thought out. When Harry discusses with Dumbledore after the great battle what to do with the Elder Wand, he decides to put it back where it came from so that:

"If I die a natural death like Ignotus, its power will be broken."

The problem with this is that Harry just battled Voldemort in a room full of people who saw him use that weapon. And if I'm not mistaken, Harry was not whispering when he explained to the Dark Lord how this most powerful wand now came to owe Harry its allegiance.

Are we to believe that no one in that room would one day decide to seek Harry out and claim that wand for his own?

Or is that to be the subject of the next series? :-)

There are many readers and critiques who can pick out the details of JKR's worldbuilding, characterization and plotting and show how certain aspects don't make sense in reality. That's the sharper side of the wonderfully detailed worldbuilding sword that JKR wields. She has woven such exquisitely crafted details into the plot and setting of her story that readers were enthralled. But when occasionally a continuity error was discovered, or a build-up did not pan out, critics jumped on it.

As writers this should not discourage us from creating our own works of wondrous detail, but rather to remind us how carefully we should plot and keep track of what we've created.  Notebooks, spreadsheets, folders and files -- whatever method helps you remember all your details, and what plot threads need to be wound back up, just be sure to get yourself organized.  Especially if writing a series.

Perhaps a Remembrall would help.

As I mentioned the the flaws I covered in The Boy Who Lived Comes to Life, noting these mistakes JKR made gives me hope.  It reminds me as a writer that I don't have to be perfect (though that is no excuse for not striving for excellence).  What is absolutely required, however, is to so thrill my reader as JK Rowling did that these imperfections just make the work sparkle more brilliantly.

As always, the keys to improving our craft are to write, read, share with other writers, and write some more. It is in studying a mentor's craft, like we do here with JK Rowling, that we can better improve our own.

What dangling threads or plot holes did you notice at the end of Deathly Hallows?  How have you avoided leaving these in your own work?


This post is part of the Final Chapter series, which is now collected on the Kindle for ease of reading as The Boy Who Lived Comes to Die totals 100 pages!

Labor Pains in the Birth of a Phenomenon -- And Why It Should Give You Hope

We recently concluded a series of posts analyzing what JK Rowling did "write" in her first chapter that launched her series to such high flights of success. However, I now want to take a stroll through the Dark Side.

Fans reading the Harry Potter series, even those deeply passionate about the books, will occasionally notice something that doesn't quite make sense to them. It seems JKR didn't plot her timeline with the pinpoint accuracy (er, obsession) as some of her fans, or indeed The Harry Potter Lexicon. And her memory wasn't perfect.  Londoners got confused when reading about Harry's passage through Platform 9 3/4 because when she wrote King's Cross station, she was actually envisioning the station at Euston.  Fans will squabble over details in the first chapter such as how the Potter home was destroyed when Avada Kedavra is not supposed to leave a mark, or why Dumbledore suggested that McGonagall refer to He-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named with his proper name of Voldemort rather than Tom Riddle. But, as writers, we know that these continuity errors are incredibly hard to keep track of within one book, let alone a series of seven massive tomes that have not all been written when the first are coming out.

As a writer, the "mistakes" I'm most interested in analyzing from JKR concern not her continuity errors, or even some of the larger picture elements, such as whether it makes sense for this band of young kids to get past a labyrinth of booby traps supposedly concocted by the most powerful wizards of the day. What I want to examine are JKR's techniques...especially those methods we've been told are taboo from the writing authorities.

In my recent examination of the First Chapter Series of Philosopher's/Sorcerer's Stone, I noticed quite a few techniques I've been taught not to indulge in. Let's face it, like her boy Harry, JK Rowling broke a couple, or more, rules:

1) Death to Prologues:

Yes, chapter one of book one is basically a prologue. "The Boy Who Lived" takes place ten years before the story and serves to establish setting and backstory. Prologue, right?

How many of us have heard from The Authorities not to write prologues, that editors and agents wince when they see them, and then usually skip them or reject on that point alone. And here is the phenomenal bestselling author starting out with one. I suspect very strongly that early on in The Boy Who Lived's life, this chapter one was named "Prologue," and that it got rechristened when some wise writing friend, agent, or editor alerted JKR to the mistake which she had made.

But, this prologue works. And it works for her because the reader needs this dip into the magical world and this hint of the mysteries to come before delving fully into the 11-year-old's life in the cupboard under the stairs.