You Say Plot Device Like It's a Bad Thing: An Agent's Take on What Works-And What Doesn't
Plot devices often get a bad rap. At times it’s earned. A twist that feels forced, amnesia that conveniently resolves, a diary serving as a thinly veiled info dump.
For me, the difference between wanting to read more of a submission, or passing, comes down to whether the device feels intrinsic to the story, or tacked on for effect.
A plot device is simply a tool that moves your story forward. It can be:
: When using a plot device such as those noted above, make sure it’s not a trick just to get the story moving.
Let’s look at books where plot device became a game-changer—sometimes even sparking major industry buzz or competitive publishing deals:
Please note I spared you the Gone Girl reference.
Not all devices are created equal. Here's what triggers a pass for me:
Nothing makes me pass faster than a convenient miracle that solves everything. If your protagonist's problems disappear because of a sudden inheritance, a long-lost relative, or an inexplicable change of heart from the antagonist, you've lost me.
While using this one’s powers for good is rare, one oft cited example is Lord of the Flies by William Golding. At the climax a naval officer suddenly arrives on the island and rescues the children. On the surface, this is a classic Deus Ex Machina: the rescue comes out of nowhere, resolving the unsolvable situation with no action from the protagonists. It’s acceptable because it has a larger meaning for the novel’s central theme, rather than “neatly tying up” the story.
Readers will forgive almost anything—except feeling cheated. If your plot twist feels like a gift from the gods, make sure you’ve invited the gods to the party from page one.
This is the one where the entire conflict could be resolved with a single honest conversation, but your characters are mysteriously struck mute whenever it matters.
The book (and Hulu show) that comes to mind is Sally Rooney’s Normal People. So much heartbreak could have been avoided had Marianne and Connell just used their words…
In Rooney’s case, however, it works. When done well, as in Normal People, this device can illustrtrate struggles with vulnerability and intimacy. But when it’s used as a shortcut—when characters are silent for no believable reason—it can frustrate readers and undermine the story’s credibility.
If your plot depends on characters not talking, is their silence psychologically and emotionally believable? Does it reveal something deeper about who they are? Or is it just a way to keep the story going?
One meaningful coincidence can feel like fate. Two feels suspicious. Three or more, and I'm wondering if you understand how storytelling works. The world of your novel should feel plausible and logical, not like a series of convenient accidents.
Coincidences that cause problems are more acceptable than those that solve them. For example, a chance encounter that kicks off the plot works, but a random event that saves the protagonist feels unearned.
A well-executed coincidence raises the stakes and deepens the tension. It shouldn’t simplify the plot or bail the character out.
Device driven manuscripts that keep me reading ensure:
Don't tack on a twist to raise the stakes in chapter 20. The best devices shape the whole story. It should feel organic and inevitable given the circumstances you've created.
For example: The Midnight Library by Matt Haig
The device—a library that allows the protagonist to explore alternate lives—is introduced immediately and shapes every aspect of the story: structure, tone, pacing, and character arc. The library isn’t a gimmick; it’s the structure that drives the character’s arc and emotional stakes.
If removing the device, would cause the entire story to collapse, you’re on the right track. A strong plot device is built into the foundation of the story—not something that can be swapped out without unraveling the entire narrative.
The reader shouldn't feel tricked—they should feel gut-punched. When a diary reveals a devastating truth or a timeline shift reframes everything, it only works if the emotional setup is solid.
Colleen Hoover’s Verity comes to mind. However, to avoid spoilers, I’m just leaving it at that... You’ll recognize it when you read it.
A big reveal or twist only works when the emotional groundwork has been laid. Readers should feel a sense of inevitability, not manipulation.
It’s the difference between adding an element because of genre expectations or adding it because it speaks to the story’s deeper themes.
The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo by Taylor Jenkins Reid
If your device isn’t pulling triple duty, look for ways to weave it in more fully—otherwise, it risks feeling ornamental rather than essential.
We're not looking for writers who avoid plot devices—we're looking for writers who master them. The most memorable books are the ones that surprise readers and feel inevitable in hindsight.
When I'm reading a manuscript, it becomes evident pretty quick if the device is driving the story. The best plot devices aren’t “gimmicks”, they’re organic to the narrative and serve the story’s purpose.
Make sure you know why you’re using a specific device. (i.e. because your story demands it? Or because you don’t know what else to do.)
Knowing that answer could be the difference between hearing from an agent… or hearing nothing at all.
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