While some writers struggle to restrain their novels to a standard length — always brimming with ideas for new conflicts and scenarios their characters might encounter — this isn’t the case for every writer. In fact, it’s not uncommon for novelists to struggle to write full-length books.

Sure, they might know what events will occur at all their story’s major beats (e.g., the midpoint, the inciting incident, the climactic sequence). But what about all the little scenes in between? How can novelists fill the gaps in their stories without writing filler and fluff?

One strategy is to give your characters a side quest. Not familiar with the term?

When writing, storytellers possess the god-like power to make something out of nothing. To create worlds where previously none existed and breathe life into characters whose journeys are entirely of their own creation.

To make something out of nothing (and better yet, to do it well), it’s important to understand the composition of the thing one is trying to create.

For storytellers, a major component of this composition is structure. Every story features at least one arc of events. This arc can be broken down into acts, which are comprised of chapters that contain scenes.

I’ve discussed each of these tiers of story structure here on the blog, but the one element I’ve yet to explore in detail is perhaps the most atomic aspect of a story’s composition: its beats.

You know the feeling. The seed of a story idea springs to life in your mind, and a wild sort of creative energy courses through you — a creative high that has you itching to dive headfirst into this exciting new project, to nurture the seed of your idea into a full-grown story.

Shiny new story ideas can come in all shapes and sizes: an outline of a character, the flash of a scintillating scene, a setting or theme you’d to explore. Maybe you’ve even thought up a fun way to twist an old trope or to blend two existing stories you love.

Whatever their nature, shiny new story ideas are doubtless tempting to pursue. The only issue? Some story ideas simply aren’t worth developing.

Themes are an integral part of any good story. Yet many genre fiction writers fail to consider their story’s themes, believing they have no place beyond literary novels — or worse yet, that authors who actively explore themes in their stories do so to preach to readers.

These harmful misconceptions hinder writers’ efforts to produce effective and engaging stories.

Themes are present in all forms of fiction. More importantly, when handled with care, themes lend purpose and meaning to the stories we tell. To fail to develop our stories’ themes with intention is to risk undermining their ability to engage and compel readers.

The opening chapters of your story are doubtless some of the most important you’ll write.

When crafted with care, a strong opening sequence effectively hooks readers into your story, encouraging them to keep turning pages to learn more about your characters, plot, and story world. A poor opening sequence, on the other hand, can lead readers to toss your book aside in boredom or frustration before your story ever gets off the ground. 

Knowing the vital importance of a strong opening sequence, I jumped at the opportunity to work with freelance editor Isobelle Lans when she offered me her ‘First Three Chapters’ service in exchange for an honest testimonial and review. 

Motifs can serve several powerful purposes in storytelling.

Yet because motifs are often discussed in literary and academic circles, many genre-fiction writers fail to explore the potential of this powerful literary device — but literary devices aren’t for literary writers alone. Flashbacks, foreshadowing, mood, imagery, metaphor, and suspense are all literary devices that, among other examples, are commonly employed by genre and literary writers alike.

How, then, can all writers utilize motifs to strengthen the quality of their storytelling? Let’s dive deep into this topic today, writers!

My personal journey as a writer has been a lonely and meandering one.

For as long as I can remember, a thousand fantastic worlds have lived in my head, the safe places I went when the real world was too painful or quiet to bear. About the time I began to understand myself as an individual, around eleven or twelve, I started writing down these worlds and the stories that took place in them. It was a carefully guarded secret, something that only happened when the mood struck.

As one might expect with such an organic and aimless writing practice, progress was slow. In retrospect, I realize that I was attempting to write about five stories under the guise of one. When I grew frustrated with the inconsistencies and difficulty in plot progression, I split this one story into three set at three different times within the same world, which, sadly, did nothing to clean up the confusion.

In February of 2019, I began drafting my very first book on writing.

Called Build Your Best Writing Life, this book presents a roadmap to becoming the writer you long to be, breaking down how you can forge a healthy creative mindset and writing practice, harness tools for intentional growth, and map your way to the writing life you long to lead. As of writing this, I’m well into the drafting process and cannot wait to share the book with you later this year.

Being as I’ve been writing non-fiction here at Well-Storied for several years, I didn’t imagine that diving into my first full-length non-fiction project would be that big of a leap. Turns out, I was wrong. Oh, so terribly wrong… And that’s exactly why I want to share the hard lessons I’ve already learned about working in a new creative medium here with you today.

A character arc follows the inner journey a character undergoes throughout a story.

In most cases, we think of character arcs as being transformative. A protagonist overcomes a fear or flaw in an effort to achieve their goal, or an anti-hero finds themselves falling victim to their darkest doubts and desires. But what about those arcs in which no transformation takes place? Is a character arc lacking in development if the character remains the person they are when their story began?

Not at all, writer — or, at least, not necessarily. When crafted with intention, this type of arc can tell a powerful inner story. Today on the blog, let’s take the time to break down the major beats that bring this static arc to life.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away, I wrote an article on character arcs.

In that article, I explained the importance of developing character arcs in your stories, established the three arcs found in fiction, and broke down the eleven major beats that comprise the most popular of the three: positive change arcs. I also asked if you’d be interested in similar breakdowns of the remaining two styles, negative change arcs and flat arcs, and your answer was a resounding yes.

Despite this, I found myself caught up in other articles and topics and failed to circle back around — until now, that is. Today, I’m excited to delve into the dark descent of negative change arcs with you all, soon to be followed by an article on flat arcs as well. Have a character for whom a bittersweet or tragic ending is in order? This is the article for you, writer.

I’ve always been drawn to book series, both as a reader and a writer.

Perhaps it’s the depth a series can achieve, allowing for rich and expansive storytelling, or simply because I long to spend more time with the characters I love. From a career standpoint, series also offer authors the opportunity to build upon their backlists with related works, encouraging book sales as readers return for more of what captivated them in book one.

Think you may like to write a book series of your own? It’s important to note that not all series are created equal. In fact, there are three distinct ways you can structure a book series, and understanding which structure is right for your stories and career goals is key to setting yourself up for series success. Today, let’s break down these structures together.

At the heart of every good story is an arc, a series of related events that compels the reader to engage with the narrative.

Sometimes, that arc is one of external thrills and escapades. Will they catch the killer? Will she break the curse? Other times, that arc is one of inner turmoil or transformation. Will his pride lead to eventual downfall? Will she find it in her heart to forgive? Certainly, both types of arcs can be present in a story. But ultimately, only one can serve as the driving force behind its narrative.

As writers, why is it important to understand which arc lies at the heart of our stories? Let’s examine the difference between plot-driven and character-driven narratives today on the blog.