This post is part 4 of a short series on story structure for fiction writers—practical, straightforward, and designed to help you build stories that actually work.

There’s a question that tends to come up as soon as structure enters the conversation:
“Can I break the rules?”
The short answer is:
👉 Yes.
The slightly longer answer is:
👉 Yes—but it helps to know what you’re breaking, and why.

First: structure isn’t really a set of rules
It’s easy to think of story structure as something imposed from outside.
A list of steps you’re supposed to follow.
But in practice, structure is more like a pattern that’s been observed over time.
Writers didn’t invent it to control stories.
They noticed that stories which work well tend to share certain features:

• something changes
• that change creates pressure
• things build toward a point of crisis
• and something resolves

That’s not a rulebook.
That’s a description of what tends to happen when a story feels complete.

So what does it mean to “break” structure?
Usually, it means one of three things:

1. Changing the order
2. Removing expected elements
3. Subverting what the reader expects to happen

All of these can work.
But they don’t work automatically.

Breaking structure deliberately vs accidentally
This is where things tend to go wrong.
There’s a big difference between:
👉 deliberate choice
and
👉 things just not quite working
If a story:

• drifts
• lacks momentum
• doesn’t build properly
• ends abruptly

That’s not “rule-breaking”.
That’s structure missing.

When breaking structure actually works
It tends to work best when the writer:
1. Understands the underlying shape
They know what the story would look like if it followed a more traditional path.
Which means when they change something, it’s intentional.

2. Has a clear reason
They’re not breaking structure for the sake of it.
They’re doing it to:

• create a specific effect
• reflect a character’s state of mind
• challenge the reader in a meaningful way

3. Replaces one form of structure with another
Even experimental stories usually have some form of organisation.
It might be:

• thematic
• emotional
• episodic

But there’s still a sense of movement.

A simple example
Imagine a story where:

• nothing escalates
• there’s no real turning point
• the ending arrives without much build-up

That will often feel unsatisfying.

Now imagine a story that deliberately avoids escalation—perhaps to reflect a character stuck in a static, repetitive life.
Same surface result.
Very different intention.
One feels incomplete.
The other feels purposeful.

Why most writers shouldn’t worry about breaking rules (yet)
This might sound slightly blunt, but it’s useful:
👉 Most problems beginners face aren’t caused by too much structure.
They’re caused by too little.
Before worrying about breaking structure, it helps to:

• recognise it
• understand it
• use it successfully

Once you can do that, you’ll have a much better sense of:
👉 what to keep
👉 what to adjust
👉 what you can safely ignore

Structure gives you something to push against
This is where it becomes genuinely useful.
If you know the shape of a story, you can:

• follow it
• bend it
• or deliberately push against it

Without that awareness, you’re not really breaking rules.
You’re just guessing.

You don’t have to choose one approach
Some stories:

• follow structure quite closely
• feel clear and satisfying

Others:

• loosen things
• experiment more
• take risks

Both approaches can work.
What matters is that the story feels:
👉 intentional
👉 coherent
👉 complete

Final thought
You can absolutely break story structure.
Just don’t do it blindly.
Structure isn’t there to confine you—it’s there to give you something solid to work from.
And once you have that, you can take your story in almost any direction you like.

If you’d like the full guide when it’s finished, you can join my email list here. I’ll send you a copy when it’s ready.

✍️ A Quick Note
Good grammar is only part of what makes writing work.
Many manuscripts are technically correct—but still feel flat, repetitive, or slightly off. That’s usually a question of voice and flow.
This often happens in AI-assisted drafts, but it’s just as common in human writing.
If you’re working on something and feel it isn’t quite there yet, you’re welcome to send me a short sample. I’ll take a look and let you know what I see.
👉 [Send Me a Sample]


Next week: How to Choose the Right Type of Story (Plot vs Character vs Epic)

This post is part 3 of a short series on story structure for fiction writers—practical, straightforward, and designed to help you build stories that actually work.

There’s a moment most writers recognise.
You start with a good idea. A strong opening, perhaps. A character you quite like. Things move along nicely for a while…
And then, somewhere in the middle, everything begins to drift.
The story slows down. Scenes feel disconnected. The ending becomes… uncertain.
At this point, many writers assume the problem is:
👉 lack of talent
👉 lack of ideas
👉 lack of discipline
In reality, it’s usually something much simpler.

The real problem isn’t writing—it’s shape
Beginners often approach a story as a series of moments:

• a scene they want to write
• a bit of dialogue they like
• an idea they want to explore

All perfectly valid.
But without an underlying structure, those moments don’t naturally connect.
You end up with:

• good parts that don’t quite lead anywhere
• interesting scenes that don’t build on each other
• a story that feels… loose

Not because it’s bad—but because it doesn’t yet have a clear shape.

Why structure feels unnatural at first
If you’re new to it, structure can feel like:

• rules imposed from outside
• something technical and restrictive
• a system that might flatten your creativity

So it’s often avoided.
Writers think:
“I’ll just write and see where it goes.”
And sometimes that works—for a while.
But eventually, most stories need direction.

The middle is where things fall apart
Beginnings are easy.
They’re full of possibility.
Endings—strangely—aren’t too bad either. Even if they’re rough, you can usually sense what you’re aiming for.
The difficulty sits in the middle.
That long stretch where:

• the story needs to develop
• tension needs to build
• things need to change in meaningful ways

Without structure, the middle often becomes:
👉 repetitive
👉 unfocused
👉 padded
Or simply… vague.

A lack of structure doesn’t look like chaos
This is worth noting.
A story without structure doesn’t usually look wildly broken.
It often looks:

• almost right
• nearly working
• frustratingly close

Which is why it’s so hard to fix.
You tweak sentences. Adjust dialogue. Add scenes.
But the real issue sits underneath.

Structure gives you direction, not restriction
This is the shift that helps most beginners.
Structure isn’t there to tell you what to write.
It’s there to help you understand:

• where you are in the story
• what needs to happen next
• why something feels off

Think of it as a framework.
You still choose:

• the characters
• the tone
• the events
• the voice

Structure simply makes sure those choices are building toward something.

A small example
Let’s say you’ve written 20,000 words.
Your character has:

• met several people
• had a few interesting experiences
• learned bits and pieces

But if you stop and ask:
👉 What has changed?
👉 What is building?
👉 Where is this going?
…and the answers aren’t clear--
That’s structure quietly missing.

What beginners actually need
Not complexity.
Not a full outline.
Not a rigid system.
Just:
👉 a sense that stories move in stages
👉 a sense that each part leads to the next
👉 a sense that things are building
That alone is often enough to turn:

• a drifting draft
  into
• a story with direction

You don’t have to plan everything
It’s worth saying this clearly.
You don’t need to:

• map out every scene
• define every turning point
• follow a strict process

Many writers discover structure as they go.
But once you’re aware of it, you can:

• recognise when something is missing
• adjust earlier
• avoid long detours

Final thought
If you’ve ever felt stuck halfway through a story, it’s unlikely to be a lack of imagination.
More often, it’s the absence of something quietly holding everything together.
Structure doesn’t make writing easier in the sense of effort.
But it does make it clearer.
And clarity, more than anything, is what most stories are missing.

If you’d like the full guide when it’s finished, you can join my email list here. I’ll send you a copy when it’s ready.

Next week: Can You Break Story Structure Rules? (And When It Works)

This post nr.2. It is part of a short series on story structure for fiction writers—practical, straightforward, and designed to help you build stories that actually work.
​
Let’s start with the question most writers don’t want to ask out loud:
If all stories follow the same structure… doesn’t that make them predictable?
It’s a fair concern.
No one sits down to write a novel thinking, Right—time to follow a template.
And yet, if you step back and look at the stories we love—across genres, styles, and centuries—you start to notice something slightly unsettling.
They’re different on the surface.
But underneath?
They’re often doing remarkably similar things.

So… do all stories follow the same structure?
👉 Not exactly. But close enough to matter.
Most stories don’t follow a rigid blueprint.
But they do tend to move through a recognisable shape:

• a beginning where things feel stable
• a disruption that changes everything
• a series of escalating problems
• a moment where things nearly fall apart
• and some form of resolution

That shape turns up again and again.
Not because writers are copying each other—but because it works.

Why this pattern keeps appearing
Stories aren’t just entertainment.
They’re a way of making sense of change.
Something starts one way…
something happens…
and by the end, something is different.
That’s structure at its most basic.
And it mirrors how we experience life:

• we’re comfortable
• something disrupts that comfort
• we adapt (or fail to)
• and we come out changed

It’s no surprise that stories follow the same rhythm.

Same structure, very different stories
Here’s the part that matters.
Two stories can share the same underlying structure and feel completely different.
Take these:

• A detective solving a crime
• A young woman navigating her first love
• A man slowly losing his grip on reality

Very different stories.
And yet, all three might follow the same broad pattern:

• introduction
• disruption
• escalation
• crisis
• resolution

What makes them unique isn’t the structure.
It’s:

• the characters
• the tone
• the choices made along the way

Where the confusion comes from
Writers often hear “structure” and think:
👉 rigid formula
👉 predictable beats
👉 paint-by-numbers storytelling
And yes—if you apply structure badly, that can happen.
But that’s not structure’s fault.
That’s like blaming a map for a dull journey.
A map doesn’t tell you what to see.
It just stops you getting lost.

Structure is shape, not detail
This is the key idea to hold onto:
👉 Structure gives you shape, not content
It doesn’t decide:

• who your characters are
• what they say
• how your world works
• what makes your story interesting

It simply provides:

• a sense of movement
• a sense of progression
• a sense that things are building toward something

What happens without it
You can write without structure.
Many people do.
But the risks are familiar:

• strong opening, then drift
• interesting scenes that don’t quite connect
• a middle that sags
• an ending that feels rushed or uncertain

Not because the writing is bad—but because the story doesn’t yet have a clear shape.

A quick thought experiment
Imagine telling someone about your story.
If you say:
“Things happen, and then more things happen…”
It probably needs structure.
If you can say:
“This happens, which forces this, which leads to this…”
Now you’ve got momentum.
That chain of cause and effect is structure in action.

So… should you follow it?
👉 Yes—but lightly.
You don’t need to:

• outline everything in advance
• hit every beat perfectly
• force your story into a mould

But having a sense of structure means:

• you know where you are
• you know what’s missing
• you know when something isn’t working

Final thought
Stories don’t all follow the same structure because they have to.
They follow it because, over time, writers have discovered that this shape helps stories feel complete.
You can ignore it.
You can bend it.
You can occasionally break it.
But it’s worth knowing it’s there—quietly doing its job—before you decide to do without it.

Next week: Why Beginners Struggle Without Story Structure

If you’d like the full guide when it’s finished, you can join my email list here. I’ll send you a copy when it’s ready.

This post is part one of a short series on story structure for fiction writers—practical, straightforward, and designed to help you build stories that actually work.

Let me start with a slightly uncomfortable truth.

Most stories don’t fail because of bad writing.
They fail because the writer didn’t quite know where the story was going.
I’ve done it myself more times than I’d care to admit. You start with a good idea, a strong opening, maybe even a character you quite like… and then somewhere around page thirty, things begin to drift.
The middle sags. The ending feels rushed. Characters behave oddly, as if they’ve lost interest in their own lives.
And you sit there thinking, This was going so well. What happened?

So… what are “Story Creation Steps”?Put simply, they’re the underlying stages that most stories naturally follow.
Not rules. Not formulas. More like… signposts.
They describe the journey your story takes:

• where it begins
• how it develops
• what challenges arise
• and how it all resolves

You’ll find versions of these steps in everything from crime novels to fantasy epics to quiet literary fiction.
Different genres dress them differently, of course—but underneath, the shape is surprisingly consistent.

But aren’t we supposed to write freely?Yes. Absolutely.
No one wants to feel like they’re filling in a form.
But here’s the thing most people don’t tell you:
👉 Even writers who “write freely” are usually following a structure—whether they realise it or not.
They’ve just internalised it over time.
If you haven’t, writing without structure can feel a bit like setting off on a long walk without a map.
You might discover something interesting…
or you might end up going in circles.

Why these steps actually help (rather than restrict)There’s a fear that structure will make your story predictable.
In practice, the opposite tends to happen.
Structure doesn’t dictate what happens in your story—it supports how it unfolds.
Think of it like this:

• The steps give you direction
• Your imagination provides the detail

Without direction, even the best ideas can wander.
With it, even a simple idea can become something compelling.

A familiar pattern (whether you notice it or not)Most stories—whether consciously planned or not—tend to move through something like this:

• We meet a character in their normal world
• Something disrupts that world
• They’re forced into a situation they didn’t ask for
• Things get progressively worse
• There’s a moment where everything nearly falls apart
• And finally, something changes—success, failure, or something in between

You’ve seen this pattern hundreds of times.
You’ve probably felt it working when a story pulls you along effortlessly.
That’s structure doing its job quietly in the background.

Where writers tend to struggleNot at the beginning.
Beginnings are easy. They’re full of promise.
The trouble usually starts in the middle:

• the story loses momentum
• scenes feel disconnected
• tension fades
• the ending becomes… uncertain

This is often where a lack of structure shows up.
Not because the writer lacks talent—but because the story doesn’t yet have a clear shape.

A quick exampleLet’s say you’re writing a thriller.
You introduce a detective. There’s a crime. All good so far.
But if you don’t have a sense of the underlying steps:

• the investigation may drift
• clues might appear randomly
• the confrontation may feel unearned

Now compare that to a story where the writer understands the progression:

• the problem is introduced clearly
• obstacles escalate
• the detective is tested, pushed, and nearly defeated
• the final confrontation feels inevitable

Same idea. Very different experience for the reader.

This isn’t about rigid rulesIt’s worth saying this clearly:
👉 You don’t have to follow every step perfectly.
👉 You don’t have to plan everything in advance.
What these steps give you is awareness.
Once you can see the shape of a story, you can:

• follow it
• adjust it
• bend it
• or occasionally break it (we’ll get to that later)

But you’re doing it deliberately—not by accident.

If you’ve ever felt “stuck” mid-story…There’s a good chance it wasn’t a lack of ideas.
It was a lack of structure holding those ideas together.
That’s what we’re going to fix in this series.
Not by turning writing into a rigid process—but by giving you just enough framework to keep your story moving forward.

Final thoughtStory Creation Steps aren’t there to control your writing.
They’re there to support it.
Like a good walking stick—you don’t always notice it when things are going well, but you’re very glad it’s there when the ground gets uneven.

Next week: Do All Stories Follow the Same Structure? (Mostly, Yes)


I’m gradually turning this series into a complete guide. If you’d like a free copy when it’s finished, you can join my email list here.