Not what the books told you. What did you expect?!
Let me start with a confession: I’ve mentored writers before. But I never taught formulas. No Hero’s Journey. No Story Circle. No Freytag’s Pyramid.
Sure, I’ve read them all. I just told my students:
“Plot is not story. Don’t bother.”
Was that imposter syndrome talking? Maybe. Even when no one’s watching, it sneaks in.
But in my defense, after reading everything I could on storytelling, I honestly believe those frameworks are like training wheels on a kid’s bicycle. Necessary at first. But eventually, you have to let go. Ride your own ride.
These days, when I work as a showrunner, I sit across writers and listen to the stories they bring. And I always start with:
“Tell me anything outside the plot.”
That question usually lands with a pause. A beat. Followed by a look: part confused, part skeptical. As if wondering what’s left to talk about if not the plot.
Which is fair. Most people, including celebrated authors and screenwriters, have made strong arguments for structure. And it may have worked for them.
But I pose a different kind of question:
“If I ask you how many YouTube channels were launched today, would you know the answer?”
Probably not.But if I ask, “Did Cristiano Ronaldo launch a YouTube channel today?”
Now, suddenly, it’s a question worth asking.
See, events don’t interest people. Characters do.
Plot is noise until it becomes personal.
We’re wired for personification. We name our pets like humans. We assign moods to the moon. We romanticize places, seasons, even coffee mugs. We project emotion, because connection demands a face.
That’s how story works. Not through plot points, but through presence.
Through characters that feel real enough to step out of the screen and sit across from you.
And no, they don’t need a perfect arc.
Look at most TV protagonists or superhero films. Often, there’s no clear character arc in the classical sense. No tidy transformation. We just follow them—observe their chaos, flaws, courage, detours.
By the time they change, we’re already invested.
We were never waiting for a moral victory. We just wanted someone worth watching.
So to every storyteller out there:
Yes, carry your structural blueprints and beat sheets. Keep your “midpoint turns” and “All Is Lost” moments. Just don’t mistake them for story.
The only thing that ever really works is this:
Create a character so believable, the audience forgets they’re fictional.
Then you’ve told a story. Everything else is scaffolding.