I get a lot of searching on my website for the “steeple chase.” Admittedly, by the time I was taking advanced fiction or advanced ii, I was so jaded that the very idea of the steeple chase seemed like a cop out- rather than practice follow through with plots and themes, rather than begin training for that trial of endurance that is necessary for all novelists, the steeple-chase was a cheap way to get burgeoning authors to move their dreadful plots forward.
So many times in classes I heard “When does the story end?” or “When should I begin a new chapter?” Signing inwardly, I always listened patiently to the answer – invariably – “when you feel it.”
I think a more accurate answer would have been “when there is nothing more to say.” This, in my opinion is the heart of the steeple-chase technique. As writers we all get stuck, write ourselves into a corner, or just get blocked. The steeple-chase, named for god knows what, allows an author to easily leap forward or backward in time, across geographic boundaries or into the head of a new character.
In essence, a new paragraph or chapter need not follow in sequential, logical time. Using the “what happens next” method and literally, tossing it into the air, to see how it lands – that’s the Steeple-chase.
Personally, I skinked through my junior and senior years and advanced fiction courses without ever turning in a steeple chase – I think the professor was feeling the apathetic burn out from a room full of graduating seniors – and just didn’t give a damn.
Since then, however, I’ve used the technique many times. Not only does it help advance your plot, but it frees the author of the mundane goings on in a characters life and advances the story to the next critical moment. No need to write about how when Molly got home from the hospital she made some tea. No need to point out how she was so exhausted she rummaged through her tea box, a wooden container with intricate designed carved into the wood, a gift from her grandmother when she first moved out on her own, and couldn’t decide between Chamomile and Earl Grey.
Unless, it advances the plot. It might be argued that that little blurb of fluff is “characterization,” but again, that characterization should be linked intrinsically to the story you’re trying to tell.
The tea-box takes on significance if it was Molly’s grandmother in the hospital.
Then, steeple-chase it right to the funeral – since we all know Molly Grandmother is doomed, otherwise why the momentary reflection on the tea-box – move the plot forward.