11 Story Genius Takeaways
11 Story Genius Takeaways
11 Story Genius Takeaways
11
TAKEAWAYS
FROM
STORY GENIUS
LISA CRON
WANT TO WRITE A NOVEL THAT HAS YOUR READER AT HELLO AND NEVER
LETS GO?
My new book, Story Genius, harnesses what the readers brain is wired to crave, seek
out and respond to facts I set out in Wired for Story and shows you, step-by-step,
how to write a novel all the way through, from the inside out. There are a lot of in-
depth, juicy concepts packed into its pages but hey, who doesnt want a cheat
sheet first? So you can begin to get the hang of it this very minute (okay, maybe after
a nice fortifying snack), here is a simple guide that distills the books most important
ideas into 11 do-able steps.
All stories begin in medias res which is Latin for in the middle of the thing.
That means page one is actually the start of the second half of the story. This
second half the novel itself revolves around how someone solves a problem
they cant avoid. But in order to get there, you first need to build the first half
that is, the creation of the problem. To do that, you need to straddle
(metaphorically, of course) the first page, with one eye toward the future (that is,
the novel itself), and one eye toward the past (the first half of the story, which
unfolds before page one).
You then start by going backward, digging into the story, layer by layer,
unearthing the clay from which the novel itself will take shape. The beauty of this
is that everything you unearth in the story-past will appear in the story-present;
this work not only generates the plot, but the lens through which your
protagonist will see, and evaluate, the meaning of everything that happens. It
turns out backstory isnt really backstory at all, because as Faulkner said, The
past isnt dead. It isnt even past. So step one is simply this:
What is my point?
What inside intel am I giving my reader about how we humans really navigate
difficult times?
Write it down so you can refer to it as you write. Dont worry if at this stage it
sounds clunky or clich; in the beginning, it almost always does. Have no fear, it will
begin to evolve, grow and deepen as you write forward.
As in, usually this one thing happens, but what if this totally unexpected thing
happened instead? Then what? Stories are about how we respond to the unexpected
in other words, to problems. But theres much more to it than that. Heres the
skinny: the unexpected event that kicks off the storys plot problem is not what hooks
readers. What hooks readers is why the unexpected event matters to someone, and
what existing plan, desire, agenda, or belief it unceremoniously throws a big fat
monkey wrench into.
The biggest mistake writers make is to start writing based on some random
unexpected external event, some generally odd or unusual thing thats occurred. So
when you ask What if? remember, what matters most is not how externally
dramatic the unexpected event is, but why the impending consequences of the
What if? matters so deeply to someone that theyll have no choice but to take action
action that will force them to make hard decisions.
What existing plan, desire, agenda, or belief will your What if? upend for your
protagonist?
What hard decisions will your What if? force your protagonist to make?
Your protagonist is your readers avatar within the pages of your novel. We are in
her head as she struggles with the tough plot problem youll set out for her. But a
story isnt about the surface plot or the things that happen in it (I know I just said
that but it bears repeating). A story is about how, scene-by-scene, the plot
forces the protagonist to make an internal change that is, a shift in their
worldview so that they can then resolve the plot problem. The evolving internal
change your protagonist struggles with throughout the novel is precisely how your
story makes the point you identified. But before you can decide what that change
will be, you kind of have to figure out who your protagonist is before the story
starts. So reflecting on your What if? ask yourself:
Whose story is it? Who is this person? Not her hair color but her core being.
What is going on with her right before the story starts on a plot level? Is she
about to get a raise? Dying to get out of Dodge? Wondering when her day in
the sun will come?
She doesnt yet know what the world (that is, your plot) has in store for her, so
all youre looking for is what she thinks today, and what she imagines her
future will be.
All protagonists enter the story with a longstanding desire (even if its simply to stay
exactly as they are, thank you very much, until the day they shuffle off this mortal
coil). Whats more, this thing they want is what defines their story-long overarching
agenda. This is something many writers overlook (or dont even consider). But it is
crucial. After all, each of us has a defining agenda, driven by what we want, based
on what our life experience has taught us matters. Our agenda is not random or
arbitrary, and its consistent. The same is true of your protagonist. His agenda
defines how he sees the world, what he wants, and what he does, every minute of
every day. So, the question to ask of your protagonist as he stands on the threshold
of page one is:
What does he enter the story wanting on an internal level? Remember, this is
something he has wanted for a very long time something like love or
acceptance or to prove he is worthy.
What does he enter wanting on an external level? (Think: What does he want to
happen externally, in order to satisfy his internal desire?)
Why does he want what he wants? What does he believe getting what he wants
externally will mean to him? (Dont forget, what he enters thinking it will mean
to him, and what it actually ends up meaning to him might be two very
different things indeed.)
What does my protagonist go into the scene believing, that the scene will then
challenge and ultimately, upend? This is internal.
Whether she wants it to or not, what does my protagonist expect will happen in
this scene? Does she think shell get what she wants?
Where is she at cross-purposes with the others in the scene? This is where
subplots lie.
How is she reacting internally to what is happening what is she thinking that
she wouldnt dare say aloud during the scene? This is what the reader comes to
the story for.
What does she realize at the end that she didnt know when the scene began
how has her worldview changed?
The goal now is to trace how the internal battle between your protagonists desire
and her misbelief drove her story-relevant decisions up until the moment the novel
begins. No, not minute by minute (thats a relief, huh?) but via story-specific events
that will be relevant once the plot kicks in. Remember, all these things will happen
before page one. Many people refer to it as backstory, because it happened before
the novel starts, but as you can see now, its not backstory at all; its the story itself
and it will inform everything. What youre looking for are:
The specific external crossroads decisions that changed the course of your
protagonists life that, in some fundamental way, challenged her misbelief
causing it to deepen, adding layers to it. (Note that while these crossroads may
or may not involve a dramatic event, they always involve some sort of internal
conflict.)
The question is: what escalating external problem has the sustaining power to force
your protagonist to take action throughout, confronting her misbelief every step of
the way? Do not because this is where writers often go wrong simply focus on
the plot. Instead ask yourself: what must happen externally to force my protagonist
to dig deep and make that inner change that the novel is actually about? Contrary to
popular belief, all stories are character driven. Thus, the external plot problem will
be nothing but a bunch of things that happen if its not created first and foremost
to spur your protagonists inner struggle and change. You need something to kick
your character into gear. Therefore, the questions to ask yourself when youre
zeroing in on that one external problem that will grow, escalate and complicate are:
Can this problem sustain the arc of the entire novel? Can it deepen and grow?
Will this problem give my protagonist no choice but to face and struggle with
her misbelief?
Does this problem have a clear, present and, yes, painful consequence for my
protagonist, should she fail?
Does this problem have a ticking clock that the reader can glimpse early on,
even if its set for decades later?
Once youve zeroed in on a potent plot problem capable of spanning your entire
novel, sparking the third rail at every twist and turn, the question is: when, exactly,
does the plot kick in? Yep, now that youve created the bones of the first half of your
story, youre ready to begin thinking about that very first page. What youre looking
for is the moment when that problem, which chances are the protagonist has been
dodging for years, finally has the firepower to override his ability to ignore it.
Truth is, we never make big changes voluntarily, just because. Even if that just
because is a long list of really good, solid, objective reasons. Instead, we wait till
tomorrow, or when were rested, or when Mercury is out of retrograde, which
basically translates to a week from never. Its no surprise that when JFK was asked
how he became a war hero, he grinned and said, It was involuntary. They sank my
boat. Your goal, then, is to:
Pinpoint the moment when the plot is about to sink your poor unsuspecting
protagonists boat, giving him no choice but to do something.
Heres a surprise: were not talking about where your plot ends or the last page of your
novel. The real question is: What is your protagonists ultimate aha moment? In
other words, when (and why) does she finally overcome her misbelief, so that she now
sees the world differently? This is what your novel has been driving toward since the
first page; it is narrative thread that has your reader riveted. This is where your novel
now makes its point giving us insight into human nature, and the inside intel to
better navigate our own lives. To paraphrase Proust, The only true voyage of
discovery is not in seeking new landscapes, but in having new eyes. A story is about
how your protagonist gains new eyes. This is the moment when the plot has finally
cornered your protagonist, and she has no choice but to see things differently (or not,
if thats your point). The key to writing this scene is to not only put us in the midst of
the event that will trigger this realization, but to firmly lodge us in your protagonists
brain as she finally sees the light. Because we dont just want to know what she
realized, we want to see the internal logic leading up to why. What youre looking for
is:
What will happen plot-wise that will trigger your protagonists realization?