Craft

Romance is the most structurally demanding genre in fiction. Not because it’s formulaic-though it is-but because readers come with expectations about emotional experience. They’re not just reading for plot; they’re reading to feel specific things at specific times. Miss a beat, and you’ve broken an implicit contract. Deliver the beats with skill, and readers will follow you anywhere. The Non-Negotiables Before we dive into beats, understand the two absolute requirements of romance: ...

Stephen King, in his nonfiction book Danse Macabre, identified three distinct types of fear that horror can evoke: Terror - the finest emotion Horror - one step down Gross-out - the fallback when all else fails This isn’t a value judgment about quality. It’s a recognition that different types of fear work on different psychological levels and serve different purposes. Understanding this hierarchy-and when to deploy each-separates effective horror from cheap scares. ...

Brandon Sanderson, one of fantasy’s most prolific worldbuilders, articulated something that had been true of great fantasy for decades but rarely stated explicitly: Magic isn’t about being magical. It’s about being a tool for storytelling. And like any tool, magic systems work better when they follow certain principles. Sanderson codified these into what’s now known as Sanderson’s Laws of Magic. They’re not rigid rules but design principles that help you create magic systems that serve your story instead of undermining it. ...

Most stories treat setting as backdrop-a stage where characters perform. The action happens; the world just… is. But some stories do something different. The setting doesn’t just sit there. It acts. It has personality, desires, resistance. It shapes events as much as any character. This is setting as character, and when done well, it transforms worldbuilding from description into dramatic force. What Does “Setting as Character” Actually Mean? A setting becomes a character when it possesses these qualities: ...

In 1917, Russian Formalist critic Viktor Shklovsky introduced a concept that would fundamentally change how we think about art: ostranenie-defamiliarization, or “making strange.” His insight was radical: The purpose of art isn’t to make us comfortable. It’s to make us see again. We spend our lives on autopilot, perceiving the world through habits and categories. We don’t see a chair-we see “chair,” the concept. We don’t experience morning coffee-we execute a routine. ...

Ernest Hemingway had a simple rule for writing: if you know something well enough, you can omit it, and the reader will feel its presence like the bulk of an iceberg beneath the water. He called it the Iceberg Theory (or the Theory of Omission), and it’s perhaps the most powerful worldbuilding principle ever articulated. Show only the tip-10% of what you know. But you must know the other 90%. ...

A slow burn doesn’t explode. It smolders. It’s the story that starts with unease and, over hundreds of pages, transforms that unease into suffocating dread-without a single jump scare, twist, or explosion. This is the hardest narrative mode to execute. Because you’re asking readers to stay engaged while denying them the payoff of immediate action. But when done right, a slow burn is devastating. What Is a Slow Burn? A slow-burn narrative builds tension through accumulation rather than escalation. ...

Every compelling opening uses one of five fundamental hooks-or combines them strategically. These aren’t arbitrary categories. They represent the primary ways humans process story: through curiosity (question), assertion (statement), movement (action), voice (dialogue), or immersion (setting). Understanding each type lets you choose the right tool for your specific story. Hook Type 1: The Question What It Does Poses an explicit or implicit question that demands an answer. The reader’s brain can’t help but seek resolution. The gap between question and answer creates tension that pulls them forward. ...

There are two ways to enter a pool: dive into the deep end or wade in from the shallow. Stories work the same way. A cold open throws readers into the deep end-action, conflict, mystery-with no preamble. A warm open lets readers acclimate-introducing character, setting, voice-before complications arise. Neither is inherently better. The choice depends on what your story needs and what your reader expects. The Cold Open: Immediate Immersion Definition A cold open begins mid-crisis: ...

In genre fiction, plot is external: solve the murder, defeat the villain, fall in love, escape the threat. In literary fiction, plot is often internal: realize you’ve been lying to yourself, understand your mother’s choices, recognize you can’t go home again, see beauty in what you once took for granted. Nothing explodes. Nobody dies (usually). No crimes are solved. But everything changes. This is the art of the quiet epiphany-the moment when internal transformation becomes story. ...