Entities must not be multiplied beyond necessity
These are the words of 14th-century philosopher William of Ockham, although we now believe he never actually said them. But the words he didn’t say are such good advice.
Of course, in order to understand them you have to speak philosopher, know the secret handshake, or have made the proper sacrifices. Let me translate for you using the best paraphrase I’ve found:
The simplest solution is usually the right one
History laughs at us once again, because apparently this is not what he actually meant. But I urge you to listen to the thing Ockham didn’t mean using the words he never said. Always start with the simplest solution to any problem.
Your plot is a series of problems which your protagonist has to overcome. But readers want excitement and adventure along the way. They want to be surprised. And, as a creative type, you’re probably bored by the idea of writing too many predictable scenes; you also want excitement and adventure. This leads to a lot of authors piling one outlandish plot beat onto the next, in an attempt to keep everyone entertained. But there’s a problem with that: It doesn’t make sense.
Readers are in the act of suspending their disbelief, which means they’re sensitive to anything that could be immersion-breaking. Chaotic plots can cause this in two different ways.
Logical
If the story doesn’t make sense, readers will pull back to ask themselves why everyone has lost their mind. They’ll start picking apart each scene, looking for further ways to justify their confusion.
If your hero is found to be responsible, readers will lose confidence in them. If it’s your villain’s fault, readers will write them off as incompetent, which completely deflates the tension.
Emotional
As writers, we’re sometimes tempted to increase the stakes in order to make the emotions deeper. We throw our hero into dangerous waters right away. But if everything is one size too big, readers will eventually pull the stop cord so they can get off the bus.
The right way to build tension is gradually, and that’s where our philosopher friend is here to help.
Occam’s Razor
Occam’s Razor is the antidote. Whenever you’re plotting the next scene for your book, always start with a question: “Is this the simplest solution to the problem?”
In many cases, the answer will be no. Maybe the simplest solution is boring - or, even worse, maybe it reveals a plot hole you’re not interested in fixing. Who can forget the eternally unanswered question, “Why didn’t the eagles just fly the ring into Mordor?”
(As an aside, I think the answer is equally simple: Because the Nazgul have flying mounts, and you’re entering their airspace. They will catch you and take the ring. The eagles are approximately the most conspicuous way to do this. But I digress.)
Plot holes won’t go away just by pretending they don’t exist. And if your reason is that it’d be boring any other way, you risk the logical or emotional breakages listed above. Readers aren’t fooled; they will see what’s happening, and rather than take one for the team they’ll start yelling at your characters.
Here’s the glorious thing about Occam’s Razor: It forces you to develop your plot in a way that’s exciting yet still logical. Consider the series of events that occur when you pose this most important of questions to yourself while outlining your story:
You ask if your hero is pursuing the simplest solution. Alas! She is not.
You realize that the simplest solution would be boring and dumb.
You add a new conflict to prevent your hero from doing it.
Now:
Your hero is acting logically
Your antagonist is actively opposing her
There’s more conflict
Your hero gets to fail at least once before achieving her goal, which earns her brownie points (and the right to future victory).
Beautiful, isn’t it?
Writing is hard work, and it’s tempting to skip to the good stuff right away. But by starting with this one simple question, you’ll make your characters smarter, your plot more coherent, and your readers more engaged. Win-win-win.