How do you structure a story when you don’t have a plan?

Dragon, cave, treasure

A structure three thousand years old, and you’ve already told it without knowing.

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The keyDon’t write to the structure. Write, then look at where you are in it.

When it happens to you

You’ve got a story to tell. You start, it’s going well — and 30 pages in you no longer know where you’re going. Or the opposite: you spend three months making a perfect plan, and you never write the first scene.

Between the two, there’s a third way, and that’s the one we’re talking about here.

Why it gets stuck

A story that holds up almost always follows the same path. Not because a manual decided so: because that’s how stories have always been told, in every country, with the same bends in the road. A scholar spotted it first, Joseph Campbell, in The Hero with a Thousand Faces. A screenwriter made it usable, Christopher Vogler, in The Writer’s Journey.

So the problem isn’t that you’re missing a structure. It’s that you already have one, without having named it.

4 landmarks, the short version

If you only remember four things, remember these. They’re enough for most stories.

12 stages, if you want the detail

1. The ordinary world — life before, the one you don’t even notice any more.You show what’s about to be lost.
2. The call — something happens and upsets everything.A letter, an encounter, one sentence too many.
3. The refusal — the character says no, and has good reasons.Skipping this stage makes the hero unbelievable.
4. Meeting the mentor — someone hands over a tool, some advice, a kick up the backside.Not necessarily a wise man: sometimes a neighbour, often someone annoying.
5. Crossing the threshold — off they go. From here, there’s no turning back.
6. Tests, allies, enemies — the longest part, and the most fun to write.This is where you find out who’s really who.
7. The approach — getting ready for what you dread.
8. The ordeal — the worst moment. Something dies, even symbolically.This is the cave. Don’t cut it short.
9. The reward — what you gain by getting out of there.
10. The road back — you have to go home, and it’s not in the bag.
11. The resurrection — one last test, which proves the change has stuck.
12. The return with the elixir — you bring back something that helps the others.That’s what turns an adventure into a story.

How to use it, in 4 moves

1. Write first. 30 pages, a chapter, or even a scene. Don’t open the structure before you have material: otherwise you’re writing to fill boxes.
2. Spot where you are. Reread, and ask just one question: which stage have I reached? Usually you’re further along than you think.
3. Look for what’s missing. That’s the real use. Almost always, the same ones get skipped: the refusal, and the cave. You want to get to the treasure too fast.
4. Make it unrecognisable. Change the names, invent places, hand out powers. A structure you can recognise is a structure that’s failed.

What it changes

You stop wondering whether your story “holds up”. You have a way to check, in 10 minutes, without asking anyone’s opinion. And when something’s off, you know where to look instead of rewriting everything.

To practise

Take a film you know by heart, and find the four landmarks. Then the 12 stages. It’s the quickest exercise for understanding — and afterwards, you’ll never be able to watch a film without seeing them.

Watch the hummingbirds