Secrets & Romance and Why It's a Plot Device That Needs to Die

In Finding Nemo's excellent commentary, the scriptwriter remarks that he originally intended the origin of Nemo's damaged fin to be delivered as a flashback. He changed his mind when he realized that the information about Nemo's mother--however horrible--didn't measure up to the revelation. It was more or less what the audience would expect, and waiting to deliver the revelation didn't add anything to the story.

"So I told the story upfront," he says in the commentary, "which every Film 101 book tells you to do."

Romance stories often revolve on a SECRET. That is, Character A is aware of a fact that could damage his or her relationship with Character B and instead of coming out with it, keeps that fact to him or herself--

Until it is revealed at exactly the wrong moment and everyone is just so upset.

Here's the thing about the SECRET plot device: it's irritating, skin-crawling, and unnecessary.

It's irritating because often the convolutions of keeping the SECRET are highly bizarre. Eventually, the reader is faced with the realization that Character B is some kind of stupid.

It's skin-crawling because either the SECRET is the kind of thing that nobody should get upset about (Why would this information break up a relationship between people over the age of 6?) or it's so creepy and damaging and unsettling that there's no way the couple is coming back from it. Judgment usually revolves on intentions, but let's face it, behavior matters too. Secrets that can be measured in degrees of control rarely bode well for a relationship's health.

It's often unnecessary as two books will illustrate:

The book has interesting descriptions of the Australian outback.

Book 1 Keira Andrews is a good writer who usually produces respectable plots. However, in this book--a variation on Kidnapped by the Pirate, a much better book--Character A keeps information from Character B: namely, they are no longer prisoners, and Character B is free to leave whenever he wishes.

The moment Character A made his decision NOT to tell Character B, I heavily sighed, not because I felt manipulated but because it was so unnecessary.

Not only would telling Character B have prevented the pointless moment of SHOCKING revelation, it would have enhanced the characters' growth. Instead of the issue being, You lied to me! the issue would have become, Now that I know, I still want to leave while you want to stay. What do we do about that?

Ah, a grown-up problem: people wanting two different things despite their affection for each other.

Book 2 In The Little Library by Kim Fielding, Character A (Elliott) tells Character B (Simon) that he has a possible job interview at the University of Nebraska, fairly far from Modesto, CA. Simon doesn't want to leave Modesto (for Nebraska, no less); he wants to be a park ranger in California where he already has experience as a cop and therefore, much of the necessary training.

They like each other; they're falling for each other. Elliott doesn't know if he really wants the Nebraska job or if he is grasping for what appears to be a sign that he didn't completely screw up his academic career. Simon knows what he wants but is conflicted: Elliott never lied to him about the Nebraska job yet he resents that Elliott won't give up on it. He knows his resentment isn't justified, which makes him feel even more out-of-sorts.

The problems are grown-up, interesting, and far more insightful about human desires and personalities than surprising people with information (then being oh-so-surprised when they don't care or don't react well).

In the end, telling Merlin, "Hey, I know it's you doing all that magic" is always better.