The role of subplots in your novel
If you’ve ever found yourself tangled in the threads of a sprawling story or wondered why some novels feel richer and more immersive than others, you’re probably bumping up against the magic (or mayhem) of subplots. Subplots are those side stories that run alongside your main plot, adding layers, texture, and sometimes a little chaos to the narrative stew. They can be everything from a simmering romance to a character’s personal quest, or possibly a thematic echo that deepens your story’s meaning.
In this post, we’ll unpack what subplots really are, why they’re crucial to storytelling, common traps to avoid when weaving them in, how many you should realistically juggle, and how they can blur the lines between protagonist and secondary characters.
Let’s dive in.
Contents
What exactly is a subplot?
At its simplest, a subplot is any narrative strand that runs alongside your main plot but isn’t the central storyline driving your novel forward. It’s almost like an accessory to your main event—not the headline act but still important for making the whole show shine.
Subplots come in many flavours—for example:
- Romantic: A love story running through the background (or even the foreground) of your tale.
- Character growth: A secondary character’s personal journey or transformation or a sidequest your protagonist is driven to fulfil—its completion (or otherwise) won’t impact on whether or not they can successfully overcome the central conflict, but it affords the audience a deeper understanding of what makes them tick.
- Thematic: A recurring idea or motif explored through different characters or events, which adds depth to your story’s main theme. For example, in To Kill a Mockingbird, subplots involving Tom Robinson and Boo Radley each highlight aspects of prejudice and innocence, supporting the novel’s exploration of racial injustice.
- Conflict: This is when you introduce tensions and interpersonal antagonisms that represent an important obstacle within the main narrative, but which don’t directly affect the central conflict. For example, in The Lord of the Rings, the strained relationship between Boromir and Aragorn creates an ongoing power struggle that challenges the Fellowship’s unity, even though it doesn’t change the main quest to destroy the Ring.
What makes something a subplot rather than just a random side story is its relationship to the main plot. Ideally, each subplot should enrich or contrast with your central narrative in some meaningful way. It might highlight themes, deepen characterisation, or provide breathing space from intense moments.
But beware: if it feels like an unrelated tangent—distracting rather than supporting—it’s probably not pulling its weight.
Why subplots are important to your narrative
So… why bother with subplots? When you consider the effort you’ve gone to in order to build out your main narrative, you’d be forgiven for wondering why one story isn’t enough. And it can be—a tightly focused main plot can be powerful enough to stand on its own. But subplots offer several benefits that help make a novel come together into something bigger than the sum of its individual parts.
Here’s why subplots matter:
Emotional depth and stakes
Subplots allow us to explore personal stakes for characters that wouldn’t fit neatly into the main conflict. For example, while your hero battles dragons or spreadsheets or Cold War-era spies, their best friend might be struggling with heartbreak or betrayal. How your protagonist interacts with this sidequest challenge—how the best friend character approaches their emotional turmoil with the protagonist—all offers critical information to the reader about how your main character is equipped to handle the central conflict. But more than this: these smaller conflicts create emotional resonance and connection that humanises an epic narrative or keeps the stakes front and centre in a character-driven narrative.
Relief and contrast
Not every scene needs to be high-octane action or soul-crushing drama. Subplots provide tonal variety—moments of humour, romance or quiet reflection—that balance pacing so readers don’t get burnt out.
World-building and richness
Through subplots involving secondary characters or peripheral events, you can flesh out your fictional world organically without info-dumping. You’re effectively zooming out the camera from your hero’s close-up shot to reveal the bustling city streets, political intrigues, or interpersonal dramas humming beneath the surface.
Reader engagement through complexity
Well-crafted subplots keep readers curious by offering multiple threads to your storyworld questions. They also multiply connection and investment by involving a reader in the emotional profile, goals, and relationships of more than one single character. When you’re connected with more than one storyline, you feel immersed in a world of narrative abundance—and that’s where deep engagement happens.
“Well-crafted subplots keep readers curious by offering multiple threads to your storyworld questions.”
Common pitfalls when writing subplots
So that’s the power of the subplot. But hold up a second for a quick word of caution. As much as subplots can be a novelist’s best friend, there is such a thing as too much when it comes to enriching your narrative’s secret sauce. What we don’t want to do is turn your novel into the literary equivalent of a cat tangled up in fairy lights. Here are some missteps to watch out for:
Overcomplicating with too many threads
It can sometimes be tempting to add subplot after subplot because, hey, your imagination is buzzing and your characters are clamouring for attention. This is especially true when you’re writing an epic narrative set in a world of the imagination, but, really, it can happen in any genre. And piling on too many threads risks leaving readers bewildered. I loved Game of Thrones as much as the next person, but when everyone had gathered in Winterfell for the final battle against the Army of the Dead (The Long Night, ep 8.3), I couldn’t remember who half the characters were, let alone how they’d contributed to the narrative to date. I wouldn’t have GoT any other way, but it’s notoriously confusing for newcomers, and if you don’t have the cultural cache of a multi-award winning international blockbuster novel series… too much complexity is unlikely to do you any favours.
Losing sight of how subplots connect to the main plot
Storytime: when I was writing Edge of Heaven, every single draft before the one that got published had an additional secondary character called Cicely. She was Turrow’s sister (Cassie was still in the novel, but she was less important) and she was integral to setting up his meet-cute with Danae. But a beta reader pointed out that Cicely’s presence in the novel set up an additional subplot that the narrative was not equipped to follow through on: essentially, she was setting the expectation that her own subplot would link back into the main plot down the line… and it didn’t. There was no way to do that, either. So she had to go. (RIP, Cicely—I’ll never forget you.)
A subplot should never feel like a random detour that forgets where it started. If it doesn’t feed back into the main story or support the themes, it’s dead weight. At best, it’s going to drag the pacing down. At worst, it’s going to leave your story feeling unfinished or lacking a clear identity.
Confusing protagonists
When does a subplot start to overshadow the main story? This is a tricky question with a nuanced and shifting answer—more art than science—but it does happen that a secondary character’s subplot grows so big and compelling that it steals the limelight from your hero’s journey. It can leave both you and your readers wondering who exactly is the protagonist anymore. We’ll dig deeper into this in the next section.
How many subplots is too many?
How heavy is a whisper? What’s the temperature of a forgotten dream? How many steps does a shadow take at midnight?
I haven’t come off the rails. I’m just saying—these are all questions with as much chance of getting a definitive answer as trying to quantify an ideal number of subplots.
The deeply unsatisfying answer, as with so many questions in the craft of writing, is… it depends. And it depends on a lot of things, to be honest, including things like your story’s scale, genre, and style. However, looking at big epics like Game of Thrones (or A Song of Ice and Fire, if we’re being pedantic—and I’m always pedantic) and Robert Jordan’s Wheel of Time series gives us some perspective.
Both series boast dozens of intertwined plots and subplots involving hundreds of characters across continents and decades. Fans adore them for their complexity. But… even the most devoted admit there are times when keeping track gets downright exhausting.
These examples show us two things:
- With great ambition comes great responsibility: managing multiple subplots requires meticulous planning, clear narrative purpose for each thread, and mindful pacing.
- Complexity isn’t inherently bad — but clarity is king: readers appreciate depth, but only if they don’t get lost in the murk.
For emerging authors, my advice is to start with one or two solid subplots that complement your main plot well before adding more layers. I overuse this analogy to the point of cliche, quite frankly, but once again: think of this as narrative seasoning. Too little, and your narrative risks ending up bland and flavourless. But too much can overpower everything else and leave you with a dish (or a novel) that’s inedible (or impenetrable).
Protagonists and subplots: who’s really running the show?
Okay, here’s where things get juicy: sometimes secondary characters’ arcs become so significant that they challenge traditional ideas about who your protagonist actually is.
Take Wheel of Time, for example. While Rand al’Thor is often seen as the central protagonist (heir to an apocalyptic destiny), secondary characters like Mat Cauthon or Egwene al’Vere have richly developed storylines with equally high stakes and agency within the overall narrative. Their journeys aren’t just side notes; they actively shape world events.
This raises interesting questions:
- When does a subplot become so narratively significant that it feels like a co-main plot?
- How do you decide which character holds “protagonist” status if multiple arcs carry weight?
- Can you have a functional story with more than one protagonist?
My firm opinion is that true multiple or dual protagonists are exceedingly rare—what looks like a dual-protagonist narrative (Edge of Heaven and On the Brink being two examples) is actually a standard single-protagonist narrative with a high-focus ancillary main character. I’ll discuss this in much more detail in a later post, I promise, but for now, here’s the yardstick by which I always determine a protagonist: the character most changed by the course of the narrative events. (In both of my novels, it’s Danae. Turrow in Edge and Adam in Brink undergo significant character transformations too, but it’s Danae’s transformation in both that’s the most profound.)
With that said… this divides writers almost as much as the row over alternatives to “said” in dialogue tags. There are many writers who disagree with me and say you can absolutely have multiple protagonists in a novel.
So… yeah. There’s no single answer here. And it’s certainly the case that modern fantasy epics increasingly embrace ensemble casts and multiple protagonists, reflecting the complexity of their worlds. (Who’s the protagonist of A Song of Ice and Fire? My best guess would be Jon Snow—but that’s at least partly because all the other candidates get killed off before the finale.) The key is to maintain clear narrative threads and emotional anchors so readers can follow each character’s journey without losing sight of the overarching story—whoever the protagonist might be.
If you do find a secondary character’s subplot growing large enough to rival the main plot, though, consider these approaches:
- Split your story into multiple viewpoints or volumes: This allows each protagonist or major subplot room to breathe and develop fully.
- Make sure all subplots are tightly interwoven with the main plot: All your major arcs should influence and intersect with each other, reinforcing the sense of a unified narrative.
- Clarify stakes and goals for each character: This helps readers understand why each subplot matters and how it contributes to the big picture.
Remember, it’s not about shrinking your characters’ ambitions but about crafting a story where every thread feels purposeful and satisfying.
Tips for crafting effective subplots
You’ll generally find that subplots essentially craft themselves, either in the planning stage or as you write—we’re so used to interacting with complex, layered narratives that our writing brains tend to reproduce this format without conscious input when we sit down to tell a story. But if you’re in the planning phase and looking to deepen your narrative, or if you’re in the editing phase and you’ve realised that your story feels a bit surface-level and flat, here are a few tips to inject a bit of flavour into your plotline with subplots:
Start with your main plot’s core themes
Identify the central ideas or conflicts driving your story. Then brainstorm subplots that echo, contrast, or deepen these themes. For instance, if your main plot explores betrayal on a political scale, a romantic subplot involving trust issues can reinforce that theme on a personal level.
Give subplots clear beginnings, middles and ends
Treat subplots like mini-stories within your novel. They should have their own arcs with setups, complications and resolutions (even if those resolutions are partial or ambiguous). Once the subplot gets going, it must resolve in some form, otherwise your story as a whole will feel unfinished.
Use subplots to develop secondary characters
Subplots are an excellent opportunity to flesh out supporting cast members beyond their roles in the main plot. Give them desires, challenges and growth moments that make them feel real and relatable. An underdeveloped supporting cast risks diminishing the narrative as a whole: when only the protagonist feels well-rounded and fully developed, the storyworld can feel as though it’s been created solely as a vehicle to tell this one person’s story—which does a disservice to all your hard work. Giving ancillary characters a chance to undergo their own arcs means your reader sees them as a critical piece of the puzzle, rather than heroic props.
Balance pacing carefully
Alternate scenes from different plotlines to maintain momentum without overwhelming readers. Use quieter subplot moments as breathing space after intense main plot developments—your reader will thank you for the chance to catch their breath.
Ensure subplots impact the main story
The Chekhov’s Gun principle holds that if a gun is introduced in the first act, it should fire in the third. Basically: nothing is (or should be) in a story by chance. Every element should have a purpose and contribute to the plot. My dear departed Cicely (#alwaysinmyheart) was a Chekhov’s gun—I introduced her in Act 1, so the reader would expect her to be relevant to Act 3.
Why am I talking about guns and long-dead Russian playwrights? Because no subplot should be a Chekhov’s gun. Every subplot should intersect with, influence, or complicate the primary conflict or the protagonist’s decisions—even obliquely. No subplots that don’t relate coherently, cohesively, and consistently to the main plot in some way, is the point.
Don’t be afraid to prune
Like, for example, if you discover you’ve inadvertently written a Chekhov’s gun. If a subplot isn’t serving your story well—perhaps it drags pacing or confuses focus—cut it out, simplify it, or find a way to weave it in more firmly to the main plot. It’s better to have fewer strong threads than many weak ones.
Final thoughts: Embracing subplots as storytelling allies
Subplots can be a balancing act, no two ways about it. But when crafted thoughtfully, they transform your novel from a single melody into a rich symphony full of harmonies, contrapuntal rhythms, and emotional depth.
Subplots invite readers to invest more fully in your world and characters. They allow you to explore themes, world-building, emotional impact from multiple angles. Subplots give secondary characters their own voices and arcs, making your story feel lived-in and whole.
Remember, the secret is not to add subplots for the sake of complexity but to ensure each subplot has a clear purpose. As you write and revise, keep asking:
- Does this subplot enrich the main story?
- Does it engage readers emotionally?
- Does it help reveal something new or important?
If the answer is yes, then congratulations—you’re on the path to crafting a novel that’s not just read… but experienced.
What’s your favourite subplot, sidequest, or secondary character? Let me know in the comments!
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