The ‘Dark Night of the Soul’ & Why It Works (Second Plot Point)

By this point in the story, your protagonist has fought, struggled, adapted, and failed. They’ve had victories, but they’ve also suffered devastating losses—especially at the Second Pinch Point, which should have shattered their confidence.

And now?

They hit rock bottom.

The Second Plot Point—also known as the Dark Night of the Soul—is the moment when everything collapses. It’s the point where the protagonist has nothing left—no plan, no hope, no way forward.

And yet, this is also the moment where they become who they need to be to win.

If the First Plot Point kicked off the protagonist’s journey…
If the Midpoint pushed them into action…
If the Second Pinch Point crushed them under the weight of their failures…

Then the Second Plot Point is the moment where they must either transform or lose everything.

This is the final, lowest moment before the climax begins—and if done right, it’s one of the most powerful moments in your novel.

Why the Second Plot Point Matters

Your protagonist has done some heavy lifting. They survived the First Plot Point (the big push into the unknown), the midpoint shift (where they started being proactive), and the Second Pinch Point (which tested them again, forcing them to realize just how scary the antagonist is). But they haven’t truly faced the worst of it yet.

That worst part is right here. Around the 75% mark, everything crumbles. Whatever illusions of hope or control they clung to are ripped away. If the Second Pinch Point was a gut punch, the Second Plot Point is the knockout blow that drops them to their knees.

They can’t just soldier on—because they’ve lost. It strips the protagonist of everything they thought they had. And sometimes the best stories are the ones where you genuinely believe the hero might not recover.

If you’re writing a story with big emotional stakes, you need a moment where the hero is stripped bare. Because only by hitting that low do they transform into someone capable of winning the finale.

For more on the turning points that propel your story into the final act, check out The Final Battle: How to Deliver a Satisfying Climax (Without Leaving Readers Numb).

The Anatomy of the Second Plot Point

This is the moment everything falls apart.

Not just a bad day. Not just another obstacle. The Second Plot Point is the moment your protagonist is broken. Whatever scraps of hope they’ve been clinging to—gone. Whatever plan they were executing—obliterated. This is where the scaffolding collapses. The path forward disappears. And all that remains is despair.

But paradoxically, this is also the moment everything finally begins to matter. Because only by being stripped down to their core can the protagonist finally become the person they need to be.

A powerful Second Plot Point usually accomplishes four things:

1. It Destroys Their Last Vestiges of Confidence

By this point, your protagonist has survived battles, navigated chaos, maybe even started winning. They've made progress. They're not who they were at the beginning—but they’re still not ready. And this is the moment that proves it.

This isn’t just another failed plan. It’s the failure that guts them.

• An ally dies—or worse, betrays them.
• A secret weapon proves useless, or backfires.
• A long-awaited truth finally lands... and it’s not what they hoped.

This is where the illusion of control burns away.

Example: The Underground Railroad (Colson Whitehead)
Cora has survived the brutal plantation, escaped through the tunnels, endured betrayals and heartbreak. But when she finally thinks she’s safe in South Carolina, the truth of the "safe" town is revealed: sterilizations, surveillance, a system just as cruel—just hidden beneath a progressive veneer. Her hope collapses, and the story veers darker than before.

Example: Arrival (Denis Villeneuve)
Louise finally begins to understand the alien language—only to realize that what she’s learning isn’t just communication. It’s time itself. She sees her future laid bare, including her daughter's eventual death. The cost of her “gift” isn’t clarity—it’s heartbreak.

2. It Takes Away the Protagonist’s Last Hope

Everything they’ve been fighting for? Gone.
The plan they were counting on? It fails.
The mentor or ally they depended on? Lost.

This isn’t just another setback.

This is THE setback—the one that breaks them completely.

• That newfound ally is captured, or reveals themselves as a traitor.
• The weapon is destroyed, or discovered to be useless.
• The antagonist outsmarts them in a particularly brutal way.

Examples:

• The Hunger Games: Katniss thinks she might cheat the system, but the Gamemakers change the rules back—meaning Peeta or Katniss must die. She’s forced to see how ruthless the Capitol truly is.
• The Dark Knight: Batman believed he could handle the Joker’s chaos, then Joker forces him into a choice that ends with Rachel’s death and Harvey Dent’s transformation. Batman’s moral high ground cracks.

Example: The Empire Strikes Back

• Midpoint: Luke is training with Yoda, starting to believe in his abilities.
• Second Pinch Point: Darth Vader captures Han, Leia, and the others—forcing Luke to abandon his training.
• Second Plot Point: "I am your father." Luke’s entire sense of self is shattered.

At this moment, he doesn’t know what to believe anymore.

3. It Forces Them to Confront Their Core Fear or Flaw

Every protagonist has something they’ve been running from. Maybe it’s a lie they believe about themselves. Maybe it’s a trauma they can’t face. The Second Plot Point doesn’t let them run anymore. It drags their fear into the light and forces them to reckon with it.

This is when they realize: I’m the one holding myself back.

This isn’t just another plot beat. It’s the reckoning. It’s the moment the hero questions whether they should keep going. Often, they feel personally responsible for the disaster, or they see a core belief shattered. Sometimes it’s subtle—a private moment of shame or clarity. Other times, it’s devastating:

• The hero who swore never to become like the villain sees themselves crossing that very line.
• The warrior who believed strength was all that mattered is brought to their knees and must beg for help.
• The prodigy who learns their success came from a lie, not talent—and the doubt unravels everything.
• The detective who realizes the prime suspect is someone they love—and they don’t know if they can make the arrest.
• The chosen one who discovers they’re the source of the darkness, not its solution.

Every great story peels the protagonist down to this raw moment. It’s not just a setback—it’s a collapse of certainty. The thing they feared most has happened, and they’re not sure they deserve to continue.

Example: Atonement (Ian McEwan)
Briony, now grown, reflects on the damage her childhood lie inflicted. She’s become a writer, but words can’t fix what she broke. The truth arrives not in justice, but in the revelation that redemption isn’t always possible. Her core belief—that art can heal—shatters.

Example: The Green Knight (David Lowery’s film adaptation)
Gawain's entire journey has been about proving his honor. But at the climax, he sees the future that awaits him if he takes the easy road—cowardice, betrayal, decay. His darkest fear: that he is not worthy of the legend he’s trying to embody. And in that moment, he chooses integrity—even if it means death.

The Second Plot Point is where the protagonist finally sees the thing that’s been sabotaging them all along—and it’s not the villain. It’s themselves.

Maybe they crossed a line they swore they never would. Maybe they were chasing the wrong goal. Maybe they built their entire identity on a belief that just collapsed under its own weight.

Every protagonist has a deep fear or flaw that has held them back.

This is the moment where they must face it—or be destroyed by it.

The key is that they see no way forward. Any remaining illusions are stripped away, leaving them raw. That’s what “dark night” literally implies: it’s pitch-black in their world.

Examples:

• Frodo believes he’s too weak to carry the Ring any further—but Sam won’t let him quit.
• Neo thinks he’s not The One—but he chooses to risk everything for Morpheus anyway.
• Katniss realizes the Capitol will never let her win—so she decides to break the system instead.

This is the moment where the protagonist stops fighting for the wrong reasons and finally understands what they truly need to do.

4. It Creates a Moment of True Despair

After the Second Plot Point, the protagonist should have a moment of quiet devastation—a scene or two where the protagonist is at their lowest. It’s often a quiet reflection or an argument with a trusted companion, or even a lonely monologue to themselves.

This is the moment when the protagonist feels completely hollowed out—abandoned, broken, ashamed. Their plan has failed. Their allies are gone or disappointed in them. They’ve seen what they’re up against, and they don’t think they can win.

A scene with no music. A long silence. A character sitting alone, trying not to cry, or failing anyway. This moment should feel still. Hopeless. Like the protagonist has nothing left to give. And that’s what makes their rise in the Final Act so powerful. This hush amplifies their hopelessness so that the final act can be a blazing contrast.

When the protagonist does rise again, it feels earned. It feels inevitable. But only because they hit bottom first.

Examples:

• The Green Mile – John Coffey, a man with miraculous healing abilities, quietly confesses to Paul that he’s tired of all the pain in the world. He doesn’t beg to be saved—he’s ready to die. It’s not a grand speech, just a man too sensitive for the cruelty around him.
• Wuthering Heights – After losing Catherine, Heathcliff doesn’t rage—he retreats. His obsessive love curdles into grief and ghost-chasing. His despair isn’t explosive—it’s rotting, internal, and slow-burning.
• Children of Men – When Kee is kidnapped and Theo is injured, the weight of a collapsing society presses down. Theo, exhausted and wounded, stares out at a ruined world and wonders if hope is already too late.
• Never Let Me Go – Kathy drives through the countryside, remembering her childhood at Hailsham. She knows there’s no future left, no real escape. It’s not dramatic—but it’s devastating. She has no illusions left, only acceptance.

Second Plot Point vs. Second Pinch Point: The Crucial Difference

It’s easy to confuse these two, but they serve distinct roles:

• Second Pinch Point (~60-65%): The antagonist delivers a harsh reminder of their power. The hero is rattled but still standing.
• Second Plot Point (~75%): The hero’s entire world crumbles. If the pinch was a deep cut, this is a mortal wound—figuratively or literally.

For additional insight into how pivotal turning points reshape your protagonist’s journey, see The Midpoint Shift: Why Passive Characters Kill Novels.

Dark Night of the Soul: How to Make It Devastating

1. Link It to the Hero’s Deepest Flaw

If your hero’s flaw is pride, let them fail because of an arrogant miscalculation. If it’s fear of abandonment, let them push an ally away or watch a friend die because they wouldn’t accept help. This ensures the hero can’t just blame external forces—they know their shortcoming contributed.

2. Ramp the Stakes to Maximum

They shouldn’t just lose a minor skirmish. They lose something (or someone) that feels integral to their plan or emotional drive. A mentor, a piece of crucial evidence, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

3. Focus on the Emotional Fallout

One paragraph of “He was sad” won’t cut it. Let the hero wrestle with guilt, denial, rage, or despair in a tangible, heart-wrenching scene. If they see no path forward, we feel that dread too.

4. Set Up the Need for an Internal Shift

The hero must realize they can’t win with their current mindset or methods. Something has to change. That seed of insight might be faint, but it’s the spark that’ll ignite Act Three.

Key Questions to Test Your Second Plot Point

• Does the protagonist lose what matters most—like a crucial ally, resource, or sense of self?
• Does it force them to confront their core fear/flaw head-on?
• Is it clear they can’t proceed unless they change fundamentally?
• Does it pave the way for a final act that feels urgent and earned?
• Does it take away the protagonist’s last hope?
• Does it force them to confront their greatest flaw or fear?
• Does it feel like the lowest, darkest moment of the story?
• Does it set up their final transformation?

The best Second Plot Points don’t just move the plot forward—they break the protagonist so they can be rebuilt. If you answer yes across the board, your second plot point is poised to shatter hearts (including your protagonist’s).

How to Avoid Pitfalls

1. It’s not devastating enough.
The second plot point should be the direst crisis so far. If your hero shrugs it off in a page or two, it’s not a real low point. If the protagonist still has a backup plan, it’s not strong enough.

2. It’s not personal.
If this moment doesn’t shatter the protagonist emotionally, it’s too weak. If the hero never faces the fact that their flaw contributed to this disaster, you miss a prime chance for growth. Let them own their part.

3. It Doesn’t Shift the Narrative
If the protagonist doesn’t learn something crucial or change because of it, it’s not doing its job. After the second plot point, the story must feel changed. It can’t continue in the same gear. The hero either abandons hope or finds a renewed commitment—there’s no middle ground.

The “Rise from the Ashes” Setup

In many stories, the hero’s darkest moment is immediately followed by a glimmer of hope—a friend arrives unexpectedly, or they recall a piece of advice that leads to a new strategy, or they find a small clue that cracks the antagonist’s defenses. The second plot point knocks them flat, and that next moment of faint hope (or a pep talk from a beloved sidekick) is what propels them into the final act.

Break Them, So They Can Rebuild Themselves

The second plot point is where your hero stares into the metaphorical abyss. That flash of despair is critical because it’s the last major forge that shapes them into who they must become.

They realize: No plan, no safety net, no illusions—just me and this conflict. It hurts. It’s humiliating. It’s tragic. Yet it’s exactly the spark that readies them for the final battle.

The Second Plot Point is where everything dies—so that the protagonist can finally rise again. Make it painful. Make them question everything. Make them earn their victory.

Because when they finally step into the Final Act, they should no longer be the person they were before.

This is the moment they become who they were meant to be.

Without it, the climax can feel too easy, like the hero breezed through adversity. But with a well-timed, crushing dark night of the soul, you set up a final act where victory (or defeat) actually means something. It’s the excruciating low that makes the triumphant rise (or tragic fall) resonate. So don’t shortchange your hero’s darkest hour—push them right to the brink, and maybe a little over it. Because that’s where stories go from decent to unforgettable.

Ready to craft a turning point that transforms your hero and leaves your readers breathless? Try Sudowrite now!