secrets of storytelling

The 5 Secrets of Good Storytelling (That Writers Forget All the Time)

5 secrets of good storytellingI’m having a harder and harder time getting excited about stories these days. Not because I don’t love stories, but because I do love them—and because it’s ever-increasingly difficult to find truly great ones that employ all the secrets of good storytelling.

By “great stories,” I mean stories that are put together with intelligence, understanding, passion, and vision, so that we, as viewers and readers, have the opportunity to react to characters and plots that both emotionally engage us and intellectually stimulate us. I bet I can count on my fingers and toes the number of stories—both books and movies—that have given me that experience in the last 5 years (and maybe longer).

Part of the reason for this is a corporate mindset (particularly in Hollywood) that hedges its bets with spectacle, instead of risking any chips on meaty storytelling. This, in turn, creates a vicious cycle in which new authors and filmmakers feel this is “the way to do it” and instinctively mimic these patterns. Much of the problem is simply a lack of understanding in those telling the stories.

I’ll admit upfront this post was inspired by Star Wars: The Last Jedi—which I thought was an unmitigated mess. Do I believe director Rian Johnson and others involved in its production were copping out to sheer spectacle just to chase the money? No, I don’t. I think these people love Star Wars as much as I do and sincerely wanted to tell a story that was, in every way, as great as the original trilogy.

Unfortunately, however, they missed the mark on several fundamental levels of good storytelling—as do so many high-profile stories these days.

That’s the bad news.

The good news is that, as writers ourselves, we have the opportunity (and the responsibility) to learn from these highly visible mistakes and use them to create better stories in the next five years and beyond.

The 5 Secrets of Good Storytelling

Today, I want to talk about five principles of good storytelling. By “principles,” I mean basic storytelling truths that ring true in every story. If you want to write a good book or screenplay, these principles aren’t optional. There are more than just these five, of course, but these are arguably the most basic, and therefore the most important. They are also, unfortunately, the five principles I see neglected most often in well-meaning fiction that wants to hit the mark but lacks the grounding in strong story theory and application to make it happen.

All of these problems are blatantly on display in The Last Jedi. However, I’m not going to use direct examples from the movie—mostly because I don’t want to argue every point with viewers who were able to get past its problems and enjoy it. At the end of the day, viewer/reader enjoyment trumps any logical argument. If you enjoyed this movie, I’m happy for you. I wish I had too! I’m not trying to take away from that enjoyment.

But I would also encourage that you can and should be writing better stories than this. You can do that by starting with these five important not-so-secret secrets of good storytelling.

1. Every Piece Must Contribute to the Plot

Story is a unit. In order to be a unit, it must be cohesive. This is true most obviously on the level of plot and structure. Every piece—every scene—must link together, like a circle of dominoes, to create a unified chain of cause and effect. Any extraneous scene or plot twist will, at the least, be a speed bump in your readers’ journey through your story.

This is true of more than just scenes and structure. It applies to every element in your plot.

I’m always looking for ways to repeat motifs, pay off even the slightest bit of foreshadowing, and reuse settings and props in thematically meaningful ways. Most stories can support a few loose ends, but a good motto for any writer is: Everything matters.

This is nowhere more true than of your characters. Characters are the drivers of your plot, but more than that, they are the symbolic and archetypal representation of your theme (something Joseph Campbell helped George Lucas implement brilliantly in the original Star Wars trilogy).

As a result, every character needs to matter. You can’t just dream up a cool character, stick him in the story for a few scenes, then write him out or kill him off. That kind of character is like the nice guy who helps you jumpstart your car and then walks out of your life forever; his contribution to your story makes no lasting impression and his role could just as easily have been played by any other of a million passing strangers.

Check Yourself:

Structure gives you an easy way to determine whether you’ve added an integral story element or an extraneous one. The defining moment in any story’s structure is the Climactic Moment, which definitively ends the conflict.

Everything builds up to this. If you can delete a character, scene, or plot device and still get to your Climactic Moment in good shape—then you don’t need that character, scene, or plot device. However cool it may seem or however much fun it may be to write, it is dead weight in your story.

2. Plot Must Contribute to Theme

Writing a cohesive plot is a major step toward writing a story that can at least keep its feet under itself. Many fun “situation” stories never go farther than that. But if you can go farther, if you can take your story to another level, then why wouldn’t you?

That’s where theme comes in. Truly great stories aren’t just entertaining; they are emotional journeys that leave their viewers/readers changed in some way, however large or small. In order to accomplish this, the plot must be engineered to contribute organically and integrally to a theme.

These days, however, theme is the orphaned child of the storytelling world. Everybody tries to be kind to it, but because nobody knows quite what to do with it, it mostly just ends up sitting in the corner playing by itself. It kinda/sorta seems like it’s in sync with the rest of the big, boisterous family, but all their attempts to truly accept and include it are just… awkward.

Just as your Climactic Moment should be the light at the end of the tunnel that guides your every decision about what plot elements to include, your theme should be the lighthouse that guides the plot itself to a meaningful and resonant destination.

Usually, plot comes first in stories, and because the storytellers have no idea how to mine that plot for a pertinent theme, they end up, at best, with a scattered mess that fails to offer any important commentary on either the characters’ struggles or, as a result, the viewers/readers’ own lives.

This gets even more complex when you realize the more characters and plot lines you’re including, the more important it is to weave all this stuff together to reach one meaningful thematic ending for all of it.

Check Yourself:

What is your story trying to say?

And, trust me, every story is saying something. There’s no such thing as “just a story.” Frankly, that is a naïve and irresponsible cop-out.

The real question is whether you will dig down into the hearts of your characters, be brave enough and disciplined enough to figure out what it is you’re really trying to say, and then do the often messy and difficult legwork of creating a character arc and plot that serves the theme—rather than the other way around.

Light the dark BookIn his essay in Light the Dark, Jonathan Franzen offers a challenge to every writer:

I’m trying to monitor my own soul as carefully as I can and find ways to express what I find there.

3. Stuff Can’t Happen Just to Have Stuff Happen

Storytellers notoriously get sidetracked by shiny baubles.

A few years ago, I had the opportunity to read the transcripts from the story planning sessions in which Steven Spielberg, George Lucas, and Lawrence Kasdan met to discuss Raiders of the Lost ArkI get an endless kick over how Lucas and Kasdan are calmly working their way through ideas and plots to arrive at the story basically as we know it—and all the while, Spielberg just keeps on throwing in all these wild and crazy ideas, like a little kid having the best time playing make-believe: “Oh, and then you know what would be really cool? We should have a giant boulder come out and squish this guy!”

It’s hilarious mostly because it’s so relatable. We’re all Spielberg. Not only do we want our stories to be as cool as possible for our readers, we’re also just really excited about the cool possibilities for ourselves.

But beware of cool. Cool is seductive and can lead far too easily to stories that are chock full of stuff—but stuff that doesn’t matter. And without meaning, cool really isn’t that cool.

This temptation is especially dangerous for speculative writers. The endless possibilities of science fiction and fantasy provide us the opportunity to throw in all kinds of cool stuff just because it’s cool. But as another Spielberg character says in Jurassic Park:

They were so preoccupied with whether or not they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.

Check Yourself:

Why are you adding that gnarly new character? Why did your characters travel to that exotic new setting? Why have you included that funny little subplot? If your primary answer is Because… it’s cool?, stop and take a second look.

There’s no reason you can’t include all that cool stuff, but first you’ve got to make it matter to the story. It’s got to be so integral to the plot that if you yanked it, meaning would be lost. Even better, it needs to resonate on a thematic level. It needs to offer more than coolness; it needs to either ask questions or provide answers.

There’s nothing I love more than long, complex books or movies… when they work. When all that complexity comes together to create the warp and weft of a magical whole, it’s too delicious for words. But there’s also nothing I hate more than long, messy books or movies that drag me through the authors’ self-indulgent refusal to recognize and discard meaningless elements. This is even true of stories in which the pieces are great but ultimately detract from what might otherwise have been an even better whole.

4. Characters Must Change

Okay, I’m harping a lot on meaning. Stories have to have meaning. But sometimes that seems like a pretty vague directive. Authors are so deep in their own stories it’s often hard for them to know how to look for objective meaning. After all, the very fact that we are writing this thing means it’s already pretty darn meaningful to us.

The single easiest way to determine whether your story as a whole has meaning, or whether any particular element of your story contributes to that meaning, is to look for the arc of change within your story.

Story events that matter create change, either in your protagonist or the world around her. Lots of stuff can happen in a story, but if it doesn’t affect important and lasting change, then it’s just “sound and fury, signifying nothing.”

Check Yourself:

Compare the beginning and ending of your story. What’s different? Which of your characters’ beliefs about the world have changed? How has this created change in their external actions? How have their external actions created change in the world around them? How have they changed physically? How has the world around them changed physically?

In answering these questions, look past the surface clutter. Maybe your characters fought an epic battle and a bunch of them died. At first glance, that seems like change. But unless that battle has changed your characters’ goals or proximity to those goals, nothing has changed.

This is often a particular challenge in series, since authors need to find a way to bring protagonist and antagonist into a climactic encounter in every story—without actually ending the conflict until the final installment. But the conflict must be advanced in each encounter; otherwise that particular installment is meaningless within the series.

5. Realistic Cause and Effect Must Arise From Character Motivation

Particularly in a plot-driven story, it can be easy to get so caught up in the external action that you fail to create meaningful character-driven reasons for those actions. You can’t have a solid plot without solid character motivations; it simply doesn’t work.

Characters can’t be at war just because, hey, wars are dramatic and interesting. Characters can’t recklessly dive into conflict just because, hey, reckless heroes are awesome. Characters can’t fall in love just because, hey, they’re both adorable, so why wouldn’t they fall in love? The more intelligent and experienced your characters are supposed to be, the more and more important this becomes.

Check Yourself:

If your Climactic Moment is the guiding light at the end of the story, then your characters’ motivations are the catalyst that sends them in search of that light. Those motivations need to be checked and double-checked in every scene you write. Are your characters making these decisions and executing these actions because they are in total alignment with their mission statements—their motivations—or are they deciding and acting like that just because it’s convenient for the plot and will let you stick in some cool “stuff”?

It is the author’s foremost (and arguably only) job to serve the story. That starts and ends with crafting meaningful character motivations and then adhering to them with honesty and conviction at every step.

5 Secrets of Good Storytelling That Readers Forget all the Time Infographic

Created by Mayumi Cruz.


Good storytelling should be hard—not because it’s impossible, but because it is a high-level skill that requires understanding, insight, energetically clear thinking, and absolute discipline when it comes to choosing elements that will support a worthwhile vision while rejecting those that detract.

Storytellers like you have the ability to rise above mediocrity, step into an understanding of the larger world of storytelling, and write the kind of stories that will save the galaxy. You’re our new hope.

Wordplayers, tell me your opinion! What do you think is the most important secret of good storytelling? Tell me in the comments!

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About K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland

K.M. Weiland is the award-winning and internationally-published author of the acclaimed writing guides Outlining Your Novel, Structuring Your Novel, and Creating Character Arcs. A native of western Nebraska, she writes historical and fantasy novels and mentors authors on her award-winning website Helping Writers Become Authors.


  1. Berta Morgan says

    I don’t believe that I have anything new to add to all the comments. I just want to add my own thanks to the voices who really appreciate this blog and the wealth of great information you so generously dispense. As a late bloomer and a new writer, I am so fortunate to have the oportunity to be schooled by this wonderful community.

  2. Thanks for a great post. I find a lot of films frustrating these days because of these issues – as writers it might just be the price we pay for paying attention to our own story craft and seeing other books and films from this perspective. Most of my enjoyment of The Last Jedi came from the empowerment of the female characters but also the arc of Luke Skywalker – that worked for me on many levels. But in terms of what you are talking about, nada.

    The first Star Wars movie ever made had this triad of characters that worked well together, were in just the right amount of scenes and carried the story forward. The side characters were all fantastic but incidental. The balance was just right but somehow this seems to have been lost moving forward.

    I would love names of a few films you think achieve the storytelling goals above. Most of the ones I can think of are pretty old ones!

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Yes, most of what comes to mind isn’t too recent. Gladiator (2000) and Jurassic Park (1993) are both excellent examples of dimensional and cohesive genre stories.

      Howl’s Moving Castle (2004) is utterly delightful.

      More recently in the action-adventure genre, I’ve really enjoyed Prince of Persia (2010) and Pacific Rim (2013).

      Marvel’s Winter Soldier (2014) and Civil War (2016) are both thematically very nice.

      And, of course, moving beyond simply genre movies, semi-recent titles that come to mind are Warrior (2011), Black Hawk Down (2001), Flowers of War (2011), Master and Commander (2003), Secondhand Lions (2003), and Bourne Identity (2002) (though that’s really a genre movie).

      But the oldies are hard to beat. The Great Escape (1963) remains my all-time favorite movie. And then there’s It’s a Wonderful Life (1946), True Grit (1969), Red River (1948), Singin’ in the Rain (1952), White Christmas (1954), Arsenic and Old Lace (1944).

      Ahhhh. 🙂

  3. This is a meaty post, KM. Just the sort of thing to propel a writer. Thank you very much.

  4. Katherine says

    As a lover of stories and a beginning storyteller myself, this post was so educational and cathartic for me.

    Again and again I’ve seen beloved fictional characters and universes wasted and ruined by inept writing: Star Wars, The Hobbit trilogy – don’t even get me started on Steven Moffat’s Dr Who and season 4 of Sherlock!

    What’s so frustrating is that these stories and characters had so much potential, so much rich and engaging thematic material that could have been explored. They could have been great, but again and again the writers made the same dumb choices. It drives me crazy!

    Thanks for highlighting these potential pitfalls in storytelling so I can avoid them in my own writing. You’ve inspired my quest to rise above mediocrity!

  5. I love this post! This helped me find the words I needed to understand why I didn’t like a story I just read. I would say that one of the elements missing in some stories is character motivation. Why does the character do what he does? Just because? That isn’t good enough. I think word choice plays a big part in good storytelling as well. Thank you for posting this well-written analysis.

  6. Terrie R Smith says

    Thank you. You always make such good sense.
    My plan for the New Year is to finish my book.
    Counting all my blessings and wishing all good things to you and your family.

  7. Thank you so much so sharing such a great post! Crafting a story isn’t as simple as it seems. What I have observed is that some writers do is that they place their focus entirely on enjoyment and end up creating a baseless story. This is not how it should go because then the readers lose interest and leave reading the story halfway.

  8. It is important for the story to be relevant to the theme of discussion otherwise it becomes difficult to grab listeners’ attention and keep them engaged in your story. Your story can be interesting but still not according to mood of the audience.

  9. I do not agree with some of these. For example: You can absolutely tell great stories with characters that never change. While it’s certainly helpfull to create a meaningfull story, it is never a necessity. Especially stories for children are often about characters whose way of life inspires others, but they themselfs stay the same the entire time.
    The works of Astrid Lindgren come to mind, basically all of her characters are stubbornly strange, but its exactly this strangeness that helps them staying on top of every situation. Robin Williams’ movies also tend to do that. In almost all of them he plays a nonconformist character who happily embraces his inner child, in a world that constantly wants him to grow up and go conform.

    We root for these characters to NOT change, because change is not portrayed as the means to overcome a challenge, but as the challenge itself. We don’t want Pippi Longstocking to go to school and become like every other child and we hope Patch Addams does not abandon his approach to treat patients through humor, after this has caused his girlfriends death. We hope that these characters end their journey exactly the same way they began, despite all odds, because it’s refreshing and motivating to hear that you don’t always have to change and question yourself to accomplish something.

    So there is great value in stories like that too.

    And about “Every piece must contribute the plot”… I think that depends. Mostly on the medium you are using. In a movie that’s probably true. Because of the intense restrictions due to time and pacing, the storytelling in movies has to be as efficient as possible. But in novels for example you have a lot more time and possibilities. Everything still has to serve some point, but not necessarily by bringing the plot forward. A moment can also serve to just establish a character more, or a relationship, or a piece of backstory or world building that might become relevant later on or that further supports the theme, or just to tell a funny joke to lighten the mood after a tense situation or if you don’t want your story to get too melancholic.

    Come to think of it, the movie Avengers: Endgame was stock full of situations like this. Like the paper football scene between Tony and Nebula at the beginning. That didn’t serve any purpose for the plot, but its my favorite scene of the entire film, because it just brilliantly shows where these characters are right now, physically and emotionally. The storytellers knew that the interactions between all these uniquely different characters is the big strength of the Avengers films. And they knew that, with a 3 hour runtime, they have more than enough time to put stuff like this in, so they fully comitted to it.

    As always, rules have their place in storytelling, but following them rarely is what makes a story truly great. Strategically diverting from them however often does. (Something that The Last Jedi brilliantly did in my opinion, btw.)

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Thanks for your comment! Just to clarify a few points:

      The change within the story doesn’t need to come from the protagonist. Many powerful stories about about protagonists who do not change, but who change the world around them–as would be true of most of the characters you mentioned. This would be a protagonist who demonstrates a Flat Arc rather than a Change Arc.

      As for pieces contributing to the larger whole, I used the word “plot” when thinking about larger “moving” pieces. Smaller pieces, such as the table football game in Endgame, needn’t move the plot, but they must contribute something–in that instance a dramatization of the characters in their introductory dilemma.

  10. I know you’ve already done a series on the do’s and dont’s of storytelling according to Marvel, and I’m curious about the do’s and don’t’s of storytelling according to Star Wars. Like what they did right and what they did wrong…I know there’s already a few posts with Star Wars movies used as examples, but they’re not used in the way you used the Marvel movies.

    I’m mainly asking because I saw Rise of Skywalker earlier tonight, and…I’m conflicted about it. I don’t know whether to be satisfied or disappointed. I guess I’m kind of a mix right now.

    • K.M. Weiland | @KMWeiland says

      Honestly, TLJ made me so unhappy, I quit watching the series. I’ll stick to the originals.

      • Ah. I think ROS may have been slightly better than TLJ, but not by much, unfortunately. I’d give it a 7/10. I think ROS’s biggest fault was the way the story started sliding from the MIdpoint (at least I think it was the Midpoint) on.

        There were at least 3 things I was disappointed about, specifically the reveal about Rey’s heritage. The more I think about it, the madder I get. With the way TFA is set up, the big reveal should have gone ‘this-a-way’, but it went ‘that-a-way’ instead. I started writing a rant about it in my journal last night and still have to finish it.

        It all boils down to fan service in the end, I think. It’s like they wanted to please everyone instead of letting the story take a natural course. Sigh.

  11. The Last Jedi was a masterpiece

  12. Your points might all be relevant to current industry standards, but it’s important to note that storytelling has not always followed these rules. We’re conditioned to dislike books without each end tied neatly up. However, if you read much classic literature, you’ll see this was quite often not the case. In fact, some of the best known and well loved books of all time have very little in way of theme, have characters which do not change, or have extraneous scenes.This is especially true about having extraneous scenes. So many of my favorite scenes in literature do nothing to advance the plot, develop a character, or any of the “safe” reasons we’re typically given for including a scene.

    Off the top of my head, here are some books which lack one of your requirements: The Secret Garden, The Sun Also Rises, Wuthering Heights, Arabian Nights, and The Odyssey.

    I much prefer reading older literature to newer books because too many authors now feel they need to rush the book. Due to budgetary constraints, the publishing industry pushes shorter, more quickly paced books. Thanks to cinema and the internet, we consumers are all ready to get to the point and power through a novel. However, there’s something to be said for reading a book that was written during a time when pace was slower, themes weren’t pre-digested for us, and literature was complex and thought provoking.

    Books today are just like the photoshopped images we see plastered on Instagram. They’re expected to polished and blemish-free, of course, but they also lack any individuality and truth.


  1. […] be a single post or a series, but today I’ll focus on the basics of storytelling addressed by KM Weiland. She has a great website for writers that I frequently recommend, but here I disagree with her […]

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