Before I get to today’s post on the rules of fiction…

I have to acknowledge the terrible tragedy of the fires in LA this past week. My heart breaks a little more each day. There are so many people affected by this who have impacted my own life in ways large and small. The scale and the effect of what is happening to them and to so many others is beyond words.

If you are one of those who have been affected or whose family or loved ones have been affected, please know that my heart’s prayers are with you right now.

For anyone looking for ways to help, I will share that the charity I chose to donate to was All Hands and Hearts.

And now back to writing—because storytelling is never a frivolous pursuit in times like these. The stories we tell matter. They tell us who we are, how we will face our darkest tragedies, and who we will become as we rise from the ashes.

Before we get to today’s post/podcast, I’m linking to a few pertinent posts from the archives as a reminder of hope and purpose in this moment:

• The Power of Hopeful Stories in a Stressful Time
• “There and Back Again”: The Lord of the Rings and the Power of Despair in Fiction
• Why There’s No Such Thing as “Just a Story”
• 5 Reasons Writing Is Important to the World

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Writers tend to have a lot of questions about the rules of fiction—those elusive guidelines that shape our narratives and mold our creative endeavors. Are these rules rigid dictates that threaten creative autonomy? Or do they serve as an underlying structure, providing frameworks that nurture and enhance storytelling prowess? The answers are found in digging down to the true essence of fiction rules—exploring what they are, what they decidedly are not, and to what degree we should adhere to them in crafting stories that work.

Even just a cursory search into the rules of fiction brings up a dizzying array of opinions. Although many studious articles promise to share “the rules of fiction,” many titles are dismissive. As I scrolled through the results, I found a post I had written many years ago, the title of which fit right in: “Writing Rules? We Don’t Need No Rules!”

Is this really true? Most articles with titles like these will tell you why art cannot be contained by rules—and then tell you why you should follow the rules after all. This reflects the mixed relationship most writers, particularly those just starting out, have with the rules. Sometimes I get a comment or an email from writers declaring their creative genius is too great to be bound by convention and the rules are just for stupid hacks (notably, these emails often suffer from missing capitalization and punctuation). Other times, I hear from studious new writers who are consumed with worry about learning how to do absolutely everything by the rules.

Obviously, both approaches are extremes. The true value—and caution—of the rules lies somewhere in between.

Can Creativity Follow Rules of Fiction?

So do writers have to follow “the rules”? Depends entirely on how you define rules.

Much of the debate about the value of the rules of fiction comes down to definition. The very idea that something as inherently innovative and chaotic as creativity can or should be contained by rules often has writers panicking and rioting. For many writers, the discovery that there is such a thing as “rules of fiction” creates a feeling of claustrophobia. After all, much of the joy of writing is its pure freedom. Indeed, many people who might have been writers got scared off early on by such mind-numbing school exercises as the dreaded Roman numeral outline.

The word “rules” inevitably triggers our superego’s notion of a stern authoritarian (and perhaps even tyrannical) figure telling us what we are and are not allowed to do and threatening consequences if we don’t fall into line. Not exactly the stuff of inspiration, much less fun.

And creativity needs fun in order to thrive. It needs that attitude of play, of childlike curiosity and wonder. The idea of “rules” can seem antithetical to that.

However, if you stop to think about it, the idea that fiction—or any other art form—can exist without structure is clearly untrue. Even just at the level of spelling and grammar, agreed-upon conventions are necessary to foster communication. At root, that’s really all “the rules” are—conventions recognized for their efficacy in communicating within a common language.

As with any system, balance is necessary. We need a little dose of the newness of Chaos, but we also need Order. We need a liberality that embraces the evolution of innovation, but we also need the conservatism of the old guard passing down the literary legacy. We need Creativity, but we also need Logic. We need freedom, but we also need structure. The former is impossible to sustain without the latter.

The trouble comes either when writers want to throw all the rules out the window in the belief they need to reinvent the form—or when writers feel pressure to conform for the sake of conformity. Really, the whole trouble is that when we speak about the rules of fiction, we’re really not talking about rules at all. We’re not even, as the pirates would have it, talking about guidelines. We’re talking about deeper truths of both the art form and its reflection of reality. Coming to an understanding of what the rules really are can help all writers deepen their comprehension of the art form and their ability to create freely within it.

Today, let’s take a quick overview of what the rules of fiction are and are not.

What the Rules of Fiction Are Not

Guidelines From Some Grim Writer in the Sky

Let’s examine the most fundamental misconception first. The word “rules” tends to bring with it the subconscious idea that someone “out there” must be reinforcing those rules. Sometimes we might assume this is the gatekeepers—agents and editors—but the underlying belief is that the “right way” to create fiction was handed down to us from on high like some literary version of the Ten Commandments. Break the rules, and a lightning bolt is sure to strike your poor little novel and shrivel it into ash.

This belief can also evoke a feeling of resentment and jealousy in unpublished authors who can point out so many successful novels that clearly did not follow the rules. But although certain conventions and archetypes certainly do exist (as we’ll explore in a minute), the idea that they have been passed down by any foundational authority is simply untrue.

Peer-Enforced, Fiddly Little Dictates

Writers may also sometimes sense that the rules will be enforced from the outside-in by peers. After all, everybody’s got an opinion about how to write a book. Especially in the beginning, most new writers will tout “the rules” to fellow writers, insisting on mutual observance. Often, this group accountability can be wonderfully helpful and educative. But writers must recognize that just because someone in their writing group or “everyone” online seems to be touting an unbreakable rule doesn’t mean they a) know what they’re talking about any more than you do or b) have any authority whatsoever over your choices for your story.

Immutable

All writers can breathe a sigh of relief now. Writing rules are not immutable. As such, they clearly aren’t even “rules.” They can be broken. They will be broken. And thank God for that. Creativity demands experimentation and innovation. As my pal Ian Malcolm always says, “Life will find a way.” Any system that errs too heavily toward control (order, logic, etc.) will become tyrannical and destroy itself. This doesn’t belittle the vital importance of Order, but we must remember that its entire function is to recognize and foster the fruits of Creativity.

Arbitrary

With the above in mind, it is equally important to acknowledge that the rules of fiction are not arbitrary. They exist for good reasons, ones that contribute to the deep truths of the art form and of communication. Tongue in cheek, we often say that if there is one rule of writing, it is simply, “Know the rules before you break them.” What this speaks to is the necessity of understanding the deeper meaning upon which any seemingly arbitrary rule is founded. Once you understand that, you can determine whether breaking it is truly the most functional choice for your story.

Genre Tropes

The Anatomy of Genres by John Truby (affiliate link)

Writers often confuse general rules of fiction with genre tropes. Although genre conventions do guide how particular types of stories are written as a sort of mutual contract between writer and reader, they are not rules. Genre offers archetypal guidelines for how to tell different stories of the human experience (as brilliantly explored in John Truby’s recent book Anatomy of Genres), but despite what newbie writers sometimes think, the individual tropes (e.g., romance‘s “enemies to lovers” or fantasy‘s “chosen one” or mystery‘s “incompetent police”) are not rules and do not have to be followed as such.

Life or Death

THE RULES. They just sound so… serious. So many of us take the rules very seriously (to the point sometimes of a cultural trauma response). Mess up the rules and you’re doomed. Not only will no one ever publish you or read you or take you seriously as a writer, but, actually, this is just proof you’re a horrible person under it all.

Really, I think this is why so many writers experience knee-jerk hatred toward the idea of rules for art. And it just ain’t so. This is the voice of the toxic inner critic, one many writers confront. The toxicity of this voice doesn’t mean “the rules” themselves are toxic, but recognize if this is how you’re interacting with them, so you can move into a more balanced and generative perspective.

What the Rules of Fiction Are

So far, we’ve basically established the rules of fiction are not rules. And yet, it seems they should still generally be observed? Let’s examine what the rules of fiction really are.

Theory

At root, the rules of fiction are simply theory—story theory. They are the collective and emergent theories writers and readers have collected over the past couple millennia about “what makes a good story.” Because of the profound body of work available to us all to study—and because we learn story through osmosis even when we’re not consciously studying—this huge context means these theories are now highly evolved.

However, they’re still theories, and they are still evolving. With every new story added to the larger context, the information that creates these theories increases, allowing for infinite revision and refinement. Nevertheless, at any given point, they offer a tremendous amount of information about our predecessors’ trial and error. From that, we can continuously extrapolate what seems most effective in communicating with readers.

Patterns

Structuring Your Novel (Amazon affiliate link)

At the root of theory is pattern recognition. Story theory is entirely based on examining the patterns that emerge from the large body of recorded storytelling. When we can examine thousands of years of story and recognize that certain plot beats are found consistently all the way back to Homer, we can confidently extrapolate that this is a pattern that has stood the test of time. From there, as story theorists, we get to explore why these patterns of plot structure are so enduring—and why we might do well to apply them in our own stories.

Archetypal Truths

Writing Archetypal Character Arcs (affiliate link)

Which came first: the Archetype or the Truth? Certainly, arguments can be made that the patterns of story point straight to the immutable truths of the human experience. But at the least, the patterns themselves have given rise to archetypes that have become truth, or at least representative of truth. As such, most of the rules of fiction point to deeper principles than simply effective communication. Everything from the underlying structure of character arc and theme to dictums such as “write what you know” and “leave out the parts readers tend to skip” point to deeper psychological reasons than may be immediately evident.

Functional Forms

Why follow the rules of fiction? The most convincing argument is simply “because they work.” If you want to write a good book, get published, and sell lots of copies, your best bet is to base that book upon the functional forms represented by the rules. This doesn’t mean you have to (or should) follow every rule (and certainly, as I hope is clear by this point, not slavishly). It also doesn’t mean that any bestseller that broke some obvious rule is somehow proof that all rules are bogus. But start with the rules of spelling, punctuation, and grammar, then work your way up to the rules of dialogue, POV, and narrative, and round out your journey with the rules of plot, character, and theme. Congrats. You’ve just created a functional storyform.

Logic, Functioning as the Handmaiden of Creativity

Because of the false paradox that is often created between Logic and Creativity, writers may balk at the rules of fiction simply because they are logical. The very fact they are based on emergent patterns means they are a recognition of the logic inherent in story. More than that, we are then able to move beyond simply perceiving the patterns to proactively using logic to extrapolate and hypothesize about them. Much of this is in service to simply understanding the patterns/rules. But it is also in service to further innovation, aka creativity. If you understand the rules (the patterns) of good fiction, you have the possibility of getting ahead of the curve by creating the next big innovation in the cycle.

As ever, the caveat here is that Logic and Creativity must exist in balance on their two opposite ends of the polarity. The whole system falls apart if writers overvalue the “logic” of the rules (in fact, this overvaluation is actually illogical). Equally, however, a rejection of the importance of logic is also destructive. At its simplest, to reject logic in storytelling is to reject a true aid. An understanding of the logic of story and the rules of fiction can only help you wrangle all that wild creativity. When you understand story theory and the rules of fiction, you have the opportunity to unburden your creativity and let it fly free with far more confidence and safety.

A Contract Between Writer and Reader

Finally, the rules of fiction can be seen as a contract between writer and reader. Readers (and viewers) enter your story as an act of faith. They are opening their minds and their hearts to you, not to mention committing money and time. As such, they are entitled to expect a good experience. Whether or not that experience is good will depend in no small part upon how well the writer understands the rules of the game.

Note, however, I didn’t say how well the writer follows the rules. You can dot all your i’s and cross all your t’s without having a clue what you’re doing or why. But from the reservoirs of a deeper understanding of the principles that underlie the rules of fiction, you will create an experience that both holds and challenges readers in all the best ways.

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The debate over the rules of fiction unfolds because writers grapple with whether the rules are stifling constraints or foundational structures. The varied relationships writers have with these rules, from outright defiance to rigid adherence, underscores the need for balance. In essence, the rules of fiction offer a stalwart harmony between creativity and structure, enhancing story by respecting the principles of effective communication.

Wordplayers, tell me your opinions! How do you approach the rules of fiction in your writing? Tell me in the comments!

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