Storytelling Fundamentals

“You gotta learn the rules before you break the rules.” I have no idea who said that originally, and I’m not going to look it up. But it’s great advice.

Before we dive into all the deeper nuances of storytelling, we need to understand the pillars that hold everything up. These are the fundamentals: plot, hero and villain dynamics, pacing with the rise and fall of conflict, themes and subtext, and finally, resolution. Master these first, and then you’ll know exactly which rules you can break to create something unforgettable.

Let’s start with the first pillar.

Plot.

You can create the coolest, most unique character in the history of storytelling, but if your entire story is just about how cool they are, and nothing else, you don’t have a story.

On the flip side, you could have the most bland, boring character imaginable, put him in a crazy circumstance, and it will automatically be better than the cool-guy story. That’s how important plot is.

“Oh, but your character is the strongest person alive and nothing can kill him?” Is that it? That sounds pretty boring.

Tell me about the plot. What’s his goal? What’s standing in the way of that goal? What’s the risk? And most importantly, why is the goal so important?

The goal can be anything:

• The call to action

• The inciting moment

• A quest

• Revenge

…usually introduced in the first few pages. It doesn’t need to be complicated. Often, it’s just a normal response to an extraordinary situation.

Here are a few examples:

“Damn, I thought I could enjoy my retirement, but the Candy-Cane Killer just escaped, and I’m the only one who knows where to find him.”

“I spent my entire life training, fighting, waiting, hoping to get my revenge. And now my moment is here. The only thing I care about is vengeance.”

“The only thing stopping my son from turning into a blood-thirsty rhino are these pills. I have to get to him before it’s too late!”

You get the idea.

The obstacle.

The obstacle is arguably more important than the goal.

Take the first example: a retired detective who just heard about the Candy Cane Killer escaping. You might think the goal is to catch him - and yeah, it kind of is - but the real goal is enjoying his retirement. That angle gives the hero more depth, and it should be brought up multiple times throughout the story.

All he wants to do is sip margaritas and play with his grandkids, but now this obstacle, the Candy Cane Killer, is in his way. He has to dust off his badge one last time so he can achieve his goal of retiring in peace.

Hero and Villain.

In a previous blog, I wrote an in-depth guide to making believable characters. Check it out if you haven’t read it already.

The protagonist is who the story is about. I’m not saying it’s impossible to write a story without following a central character, but it’s damn hard. That’d be more like a documentary, right?

Anyway, not only does the audience need to know why the plot is important, they need to know why it’s so important to the character.

Take The Matrix, for example. It’s a plot-driven story with an incredible concept that etched its way into the hall of greatness with its originality. But if Neo wasn’t the main character, and instead it was told from an omniscient overview, the story wouldn’t have been nearly as good.

We’re discovering the Matrix through Neo’s eyes. Watching his journey progress and understanding why it’s so important he wins; that’s the story, even though the world itself is fantastic.

The villain doesn’t always have to be a person. It just has to be an opposition for the protagonist. It could be:

• The hero versus himself

• The unknown

• An animal

• The environment

• The supernatural

• An ideology

• Time

There are tons of options. Not everything has to be good versus evil or man versus man.

But it’s important that the villain, or opposition, appears insurmountable - that it’s almost impossible for the hero to win.

The Rise and Fall of Conflict (Pacing).

This is one of the most important, and most overlooked, parts of storytelling. Even action movies have scenes where the hero is being briefed on intel. It can’t be nonstop action, because then none of it makes sense. But if there’s no conflict, it’s boring as fuck. You need the peaks as much as you need the valleys, and balancing them correctly is an art form.

We’re all waiting for that big, epic battle we know is coming. But if the entire story is just fighting, it actually becomes confusing, and boring. Isn’t that ironic? Too much action can become boring. We need shock value. We need surprise. We need proper pacing.

Obviously, conflict doesn’t always have to be violence. It can be a character learning something devastating. It can be quiet tension between two people. It can be the dreadful waiting as they count down the seconds to something inevitable. Whatever it is, remember: every scene needs to progress the story.

This is a trap I fall into all the time. I’ll lie to myself and say, “This scene is important because it reveals more background information,” or, “It’s just really funny,” or whatever. But if it’s not carrying us closer to the conclusion, it’s filler - and it needs to be cut. It always breaks my heart when I realize this. I’ve spent countless hours writing amazing scenes that I later had to take out and rewrite because I lingered too long on parts that didn’t matter. Even in Wrath and Remorse, there are places I know I could still edit down.

Anyway, there are tons of guides out there that break down the rise and fall of conflict within the three-act structure. But at the end of the day, remember: conflict is what keeps readers engaged, pacing is what keeps them turning pages.

Themes, motifs, and subtext.

Some people like to be challenged by a story. Others just want to kick back and watch a superhero beat up the bad guy. But as the author, you need to answer this question:

Why is this story being told?

Look, I’m not going to scoff at people who write romantic comedies. But typically, there’s not much depth to them. Why is the romance story being told? Because people read it. Romantic comedies and romance novels are popular for a reason - they’re comforting and entertaining. Same thing with classic action stories.

But personally, I want something I can sink my teeth into. Something I can ponder over and search for deeper meaning. If anyone read Wrath and Remorse and didn’t question the deeper meaning, they missed the point completely. I see storytelling as an art form. And with great art, it forces you to feel something, to think something, and to ask questions.

That’s the kind of writing I’m talking about.

Let’s use Fight Club as an example.

Themes.

Themes are more than plot - they add weight to your story that goes beyond entertainment. On the surface, Fight Club is still a good story. But it has so much depth we can’t ignore. At its core, it’s about:

• Masculinity

• Consumerism

• Freedom vs. Control

• Self-Destruction vs. Self-Identity

Motifs

Motifs are symbols used throughout your story to represent deeper meanings. I’m probably missing some, but here are a few from Fight Club:

• Soap. Made from human fat. Cleansing, but grotesque - a duality.

• Violence. Destruction as freedom. Our raw, primal nature unleashed.

• Branding. Shows how far society has drifted from our true instincts.

• Names. Our identity and how we’re constantly restructuring who we are - rebirth, basically.

Subtext

Subtext is what’s left unsaid. Writers often blur subtext and theme, but here’s an easy way to remember:

• Theme is the overarching idea.

• Subtext is situational meaning.

For example, in Fight Club:

• Support Groups. He goes there to feel something real, hinting at his longing for authentic human interaction.

• His relationship with Marla. Their sex life is wild, another nod to trying to return to primal nature. Practically every scene with Marla carries an underlying subtext of vulnerability.

• Shooting himself at the end. This one is obvious: to be reborn, you have to kill your old self.

Resolution.

How do you want your story to end?

Ideally, you already know the ending before you write page one - or at least have a solid idea. The ending of your book is where the conflict is resolved, the arcs are completed, and the ultimate message of your themes is delivered.

I’m going to be real with you: the ending is the most important part of the book. It’s how you want your audience to feel as they close the final page. What emotion are you trying to evoke? What is the message you want to leave them with?

If you choose an ambiguous ending or a surprise twist, you need to carefully plan it out. A twist will negate everything the audience thought they knew - so you have to make sure it’s worth it. Ask yourself:

• How has the story changed the hero?

• What has been lost, gained, or realized?

There are countless stories that begin with a warrior in a garden and end with him back in the garden. But he’s not the same man. The events that transpired in between left a permanent mark.

Don’t rush your ending. Map it out so you can tie up every loose end. It’s common for me to veer off course while writing and, before I know it, I’m telling a completely different story. I’ll go back to the drawing board several times during the first draft, coming up with new possible outcomes until I find the one that resonates.

Because at the end of the day, your ending is what they’ll remember most.

This is only scratching the surface and I have so much more to say on this topic, but I’ll stop here.

Something I keep asking myself is, “Who the hell do I think I am?” Also, “Who am I writing this for?”
Well, I’ve dedicated years of my life to the craft and I’m hoping to share some knowledge with people who are eager to start their first book.