The cover memo I sent to this writer with her feedback, which appears below, tells you everything you need to know before reading this case study: the issues, the missteps, the virtues. Learn from these issues, and look for the contextual connections between them.
The news isn’t always bad. Yet a nod in the direction of improvement is always a good thing in the early stages of story development—even if you develop that clarity for yourself, from your growing story sensibility. That’s the ultimate goal: to be able to spot potential weakness before the story leaves your hard drive.
Even writers with promising stories don’t quite grasp the true nature and function of premise. There is nothing more critical to a story. You are about to see that situation here, in what is a really solid story proposition. See what it looks like. Learn to recognize it in your own work.
Hi _____________________,
Here you go. I love your story. I think it has huge potential.
I give you a hard time in your statement(s) of concept, premise, and theme. You are off the mark in your understanding of all three terms. I think you need a crash course on those elements and their subtleties, as they are important to the writing itself.
My notes on the story sequence are prompts and yellow flags. You do have a nice dramatic arc in play, and I think I’ve given you some saves and added some additional value.
I make a drastic suggestion in my closing comments, which alters everything, including how you view the story. It’s part of my urging to think bigger with this. Your narrative strategy, as is, is self-limiting, for reasons I explain in my responses.
Thanks for letting me play here. I wish you great success. You have the raw stuff to make it happen with the bones of this story. I hope you’ll go for it!
Larry
Current working title:
The Secret Daughter
Notes from Larry: I like the title. That’s an important element. This catches my eye.
Genre:
Historical fiction with a romantic element. Possibly it’s historical romance, but I am perplexed and confused about this. I have written a story about real historical figures, which screams historical fiction, but two of my critique partners (who are romance writers) say that it is a romance. One of my critique partners (who writes mainstream women’s fiction) says it could be either.
Notes from Larry: Historical fiction is one of the toughest genres to pull off. Also note that it’s often a very risky proposition to write a story about real historical figures. It sounds like you’re leaning more into historical. That said, it’s perfectly fine to write a historical romance. That seems to be where this story lands.
As you will see below, my genre dilemma is driving me batty because if I just knew where it belonged I would probably know what my POV voices should be!
Notes from Larry: Don’t sweat genre. Write the book you want to write, and see what happens. If it works, an agent will see it, and she’ll find a place for it.
Which “voice” will you use: first-person past, first-person present, or third-person omniscient?
My current/initial draft is in multiple third-person points of view (heroine, hero, antagonist).
Problems: The concept of my story aligns with historical fiction, but there is also a romantic subplot that ends with a happily ever after. So I have a heroine POV, the love interest/sworn protector (hero) POV, and an antagonist POV. The main journey is the heroine’s (but the love interest also has a fully fleshed-out arc, including plot points). I have toyed with the idea of making her POV first person and the love interest and antagonist third person. But is this too difficult for an unpublished author to make work?
Notes from Larry: I don’t know about difficult; that depends on the writer, what he or she considers to be difficult. The more important question is: Which mixture of voice works best for this book? I love novels that offer mixed POV, and usually the protagonist is in first person (The Great Gatsby being an exception), and the other POV, that of the catalytic character, is told in third (because it often shows exposition from behind the curtain of the protagonist’s POV).
I have a nit with the romance writer lingo. Books have a hero, which is the protagonist. This is the case with any genre. The male character, often an antagonist, is not the “hero” and the female character, if she is indeed the protagonist, is not the “heroine.” Those labels work only in one niche—the romance world. If you’re attempting to cross genre to any extent, then your protagonist (the woman, in this case) is the hero, and the guy is either a supporting character, a love interest, or the antagonist. That’s how it’s spoken of and thought of outside of romance, which is the broader market here.
For purposes of this analysis, and to avoid confusion, when I refer to your “hero” I’m talking about your protagonist, which in this case is your female lead character.
Should I play it safe by keeping her POV in third person?
Notes from Larry: Safe? Where’d you get that? Is it “safe” to choose a less effective narrative strategy? Absolutely not. The safest strategy is the best strategy, and if the story allows your hero’s voice to be heard in a more intimate and revealing (and entertaining, because she’ll have a “voice”) context, then give her to us in first person.
Or does third person for my heroine and my hero scream the romance genre, which, from experience and what I can tell, might and probably is not where my story fits.
Notes from Larry: Like I said, forget about genre. Aim higher. Write the novel, and tell your story. Genre is limiting. Huge breakout hits almost always cross genre lines.
Restate your concept in the form of a “What if?” question. (Example: What if a major religion employs a secret sect of killers to keep its darkest secret secure? Notice how that question doesn’t speak to the theme; it speaks to plot and dramatic tension, which is the role of concept.)
What if Julius Caesar had a secret, illegitimate daughter and the language in his will made it possible for her unborn child to be his adopted heir? What if she (Tertia) was the wife of one of his assassins (Cassius) and the sister of another (Brutus)?
Notes from Larry: Fabulous concept. And it’s way more than a romance novel. Please, please, please (with much respect to your romance-writing friends) get over the romance vocabulary and limitations. Write a killer historical under this concept, driven by a sweeping love story.
This is not a romance. That concept sets the stage for a wonderful mainstream romantic historical novel.
As an aside, Tertia was a real historical person, though not much is known about her except that she was Cassius’s wife and Brutus’s sister, and that her mother had an affair with Caesar. I took it upon myself to give her a story!
I also have a story concept for the love interest (Alex).
Notes from Larry: To clarify, the “concept” is the foundation of the book and the story—not of a character. Characters don’t have different concepts within a story (and thus you can’t have a “story concept” for Alex). That won’t work. Characters interact on the same conceptual story landscape.
Maybe you simply have a subplot. But Alex doesn’t have his “own concept”; that’s sideways thinking and incorrect labeling.
What if Julius Caesar knew he was going to die, knew who the conspirators were, and wanted to protect his secret, illegitimate daughter if something happened to him?
As an aside, Alex is purely fictional.
Notes from Larry: This is totally part of—a hierarchical progression of—the same concept.
You have one concept here, and it’s good. It doesn’t matter that Alex’s story is fictional and that Tertia’s is based on supposed fact. The truth is, Tertia’s story, as it unfolds here, will be mostly made up by you anyway. Any differentiation on your part could really compromise the storytelling.
State the premise of your story. (Note: Concept and premise are different things, much like stone and statue. A statue can be made out of any number of things, including stone. One is substance, the other form.)
Notes from Larry: Before I respond to your answer in full, I should clarify that a story has one premise. Characters don’t have a premise; they experience an “arc” over a single premise (albeit perhaps with different facets and points of view), which drives the story. Premise describes the source of dramatic tension, in other words, a plot.
Did you read The Help? There are three main characters. Are there three concepts, and three premises? If you think so, allow me to change your mind.
What you are about to offer here are three character arcs. It is critical that they intersect, that they become parts, facets, of the same story, under the same premise. Three premises … no way. One story, with three characters … that’s what your story is, what you should shoot for, and how, beginning now, you need to think of it and describe it.
Tertia’s story premise: When Julius Caesar’s illegitimate daughter discovers her unborn child could be his adopted heir, she reveals her true identity, despite knowing that her family might disown her, to secure the inheritance so that she and her baby will have the means and the power to be free of her abusive husband.
Alex’s story premise: When Julius Caesar’s bodyguard, who is sworn to protect Caesar’s illegitimate daughter, witnesses her being beaten by her abusive husband, he puts her in hiding, despite finding himself unsuitably attracted to her, to safeguard her from those who want to harm her.
Notes from Larry: See my notes prior to your answer, and make sure you fully understand the definition of premise. That said, this all sounds terrific so far. The story is just fine, even if you need to rethink your understanding of premise. Premise is one of the most important elements of a good story, and it begins by knowing what a premise is.
Both story premises transform the story concepts into inciting incidents for each character and each character is given an external goal that has stakes, an external conflict and a motivation.
Notes from Larry: This is making me crazy. You have wonderful story on your hands. But be clear: You need one concept, one premise, one hero, and several other characters that influence, pressure, challenge, support, and so on.
I plan on answering the rest of the questions for my main plot—Tertia’s story.
Notes from Larry: Again, this needs to be about the one singular story that all of these character arcs represent. I’m hooked—I want to know what happens. And what happens will include the involvement of all the major players.
What is the core dramatic thread of the story, as introduced in your statement of premise?
Freedom.
Notes from Larry: Sorry, but this is the theme of the story. You must understand the difference between concept, premise, and theme. They are three very different (but related and dependent) story elements.
A core dramatic thread, what this question asks for, is the thing the hero must do (not what she wants) to achieve her goal (that is what she wants), and the nature of whatever stands in her way (which is essential) and what is at stake.
In other words, it is the plot of a story. “Freedom” is not a plot. It is a theme.
Unfortunately, you’ve just blown the most important question of all. Better stated, you’ve just demonstrated that you don’t understand the most important principle in all of fiction writing. You cannot write the book well enough to secure a contract without an understanding the most important aspect of the entire story: What is your dramatic premise, the core dramatic spine that emerges from it, and the core dramatic question it poses, which will elicit reader empathy by giving the hero something important to do, with significant stakes in play, and someone or something blocking her path in that quest?
“Freedom” is an outcome. It is not the story, and it is not a dramatic question.
I recommend you immerse yourself in 101-level craft until you get clarity on these principles. You have a strong story concept and, with some tweaking, a strong premise on your hands, but you have to be up to the task. Make sure you are—the principles that will inform your writing aren’t something you can fake or guess at. You need more fundamental craft before you begin to write this story. That’s my opinion, based on these answers.
What is the external source of conflict your hero must face? (Note: If this answer doesn’t match the previous question, we need to talk.)
Her abusive husband (Cassius).
Notes from Larry: This is fine. But he has to continually do something specific to become her foe, her nemesis. It is her vs. him in this story.
Not to be too picky with this … yes, the external conflict is Cassius, but the reason he opposes her is the primary conflict. Which means that you have to show Cassius’s motivations and stakes, what he has to win or lose, so we understand the lengths he’ll go to attain what he needs.
What does your hero need or want in this story? What is his or her “story journey”? (Note: This is one that stumps a lot of writers, and yet, it’s perhaps the most important thing you need to know about your story. For example, in a concept in which your hero needs to find the man that kidnapped his children, don’t answer this question with something like this: “His primary need is to conquer the inner shyness and hesitation that extends from his childhood as the son of a disapproving father.” That may be the case, but it’s not the answer to the question. For that particular concept, a good answer would be “The hero needs to find the location of the kidnappers soon because his daughter needs medicine and she’ll die before he can scratch up the ransom money.”)
To be free of her husband.
Notes from Larry: Yes, but that’s only part of her goal. She wants the inheritance, and she wants to take care of her child as well. She needs to be free of him in order to do those things.
What is the primary external conflict/obstacle to that need or goal?
Will Tertia free herself from her husband?
Notes from Larry: Well, now you’ve answered with a dramatic question. You actually haven’t answered the posed question at all. You imply that her husband is that obstacle, but that may not be true; it may be too simplistic. This question asks for a villain, yet your answer is her need.
My earlier suggestion to gain a better 101-level understanding before you begin to write? Every answer you give demonstrates how badly you need to elevate your knowledge in that realm.
What are you asking your reader to root for in this story?
For Tertia to be free from her husband and for Tertia to be with the love interest.
Notes from Larry: Good stuff. It’s easy to root for that.
Why should they root for it?
Because her husband abuses her. Because her husband killed her father. Because the love interest believes in her and, unlike her husband, sees her for who she is or who she should be.
Notes from Larry: There is a built-in curiosity factor here. How could she possibly defeat her powerful husband on this issue? Doesn’t he rule the courts that she’ll need in order to prove the will is valid? The reader will not only root for her on a personal level, but they’ll stick around to see how she plans to pull this off. I hope you have a credible, visceral means by which she will attain this goal.
What opposes the hero (the exterior antagonist) in the pursuit of this goal?
Her husband, Cassius.
What are the goals/motivations/rationale of that antagonist?
Cassius wants to restore Rome’s Republic from Caesar’s supposed tyrannical rule and therefore achieve his own political greatness. To do this he needs to maintain his marriage with Brutus’s sister to not only ensure Brutus as a colleague/political partner but also to keep Tertia’s landed dowry, which provides him the income that he needs for his political aspirations.
At first, Cassius is appalled that his wife is Caesar’s daughter, but he then realizes that it will help him and at the same time be gleefully ironic. Not only has he killed Julius Caesar, but now Cassius’s child can inherit Caesar’s wealth, which Cassius can use to further his political agendas.
Notes from Larry: This is a little confusing. It seems Cassius and Tertia share the same goal—that the kid inherits Caesars’ fortune. So where is the conflict? You need to sort this out and draw clear battle lines in the story.
What is at stake for the hero relative to attaining (or not attaining) the goal (which can be stated as survival, the attainment of something, the avoidance of something, the discovery of something, and so on)?
Losing her family, more specifically her mother and her aunt—the people she loves.
Notes from Larry: This implies that Cassius, in trying to gain control over her son’s inherited fortune, will somehow separate her from her son. That means more is going on, and that the marriage is over as well. Again, this needs to be clear, because at first glance, it isn’t.
What inner demons will plague your hero through this story?
Tertia grew up in the shadow of her siblings, leaving her convinced that nothing she ever did was good enough or important enough to deserve recognition. She wed Cassius to secure a political alliance for her brother Brutus, believing her marriage to Cassius would define her worth. But the abuse Cassius unleashes on her continues with no end.
Notes from Larry: Good. How do you plan on using this in your story?
What is your hero’s world view, goals, values, problems, etc. prior to the First Plot Point? (This is where the story-specific quest, in context to obstacles and stakes, is launched or imbued with meaning. Sometimes the FPP is a moment that heightens or changes something the hero is already engaged with.)
The story begins at Caesar’s funeral (public cremation), where the reader is shown that Tertia hadn’t known who her real father was until he was already dead. Since there is a threat that the city mob (Caesar’s supporters) might try to raid the homes of the assassins, she goes back to her marital home to get her most precious possessions before it is too late. There she has a confrontation with Cassius, where it is revealed to him that she is Caesar’s daughter and she is pregnant. Her protector/love interest Alex saves her from a severe beating, and he puts her into hiding at his sister’s home.
Notes from Larry: Good stuff. Very dramatic, a great hook.
How will the hero’s world view, goals, values, problems, etc. build reader empathy prior to the arrival of the First Plot Point?
Alex’s sister lives in a working-class neighborhood. Tertia is a fish out of water here. Her patrician background does not help her fit in, and she feels even more worthless because she does not have a skill set to help his sister in her day-to-day activities.
Notes from Larry: Well, compared to her bigger problems, this is pretty small potatoes. This is not what the story is about (how she fits in while staying with Alex’s sister); the story is way bigger than that. We need to understand and empathize with her big-picture situation: Her husband wants to beat her and kill her, and perhaps take her son from her so he can control the inheritance. We will feel empathy for that, not how she fits in with the local book club in the new neighborhood.
Keep in mind what the core story is. Don’t let little details (which are the basis for your answer here) overcome and trump the main story arc and the primary dramatic question.
“Will she fit in with Alex’s sister’s friends?” is not the core dramatic question of this novel. Not by a long shot.
What is the theme(s) of your story (the subtext)? What issues are at hand in your story? (State this in less than 100 words, please.)
Your worth in the world is measured by the value you place on yourself.
Notes from Larry: That’s pretty specific. It’s fine, but it seems the themes are greed, moral corruption, and narcissism. Also, where did “freedom” end up relative to the issue of theme? Earlier you said the story is all about theme (when you incorrectly labeled it the core dramatic question), but it doesn’t appear in this answer.
What is the First Plot Point in your story? (Note: This is the most important moment in your story, and it should connect directly to the concept and the dramatic question.)
Tertia reveals her identity to Mark Antony (the acting head magistrate of Rome) so he will help her secure Caesar’s inheritance for her unborn child despite her family disowning her. The inheritance needs to be approved by the Senate due to Caesar’s posthumous adoption.
Notes from Larry: At a glance, this is a good FPP. How does she prove that the child she carries is Caesar’s grandchild? That seems critical. She’s the sister of the assassin, which already puts her credibility in question. It seems like she’d need a letter from Caesar himself confirming this. Just pitching it to Mark Antony may not be enough, especially since Mark Antony has his own plans for the inheritance. He wouldn’t just say, “Oh, you’re the mother of Caesar's heir? Gosh darn, okay, if you say so … I guess I’ll have to abandon my evil agenda.”
How does this spin the story in a new direction? In what way does this begin or alter your hero’s journey? How does the FPP put stakes and conflict into play that weren’t readily apparent in the Part One scenes?
The arena of antagonists widens because her true identity is now known.
Notes from Larry: How does she prove her identity, other than claiming it?
Tertia becomes the MacGuffin—she has what everyone wants (the heir). Mark Antony felt that he should have been the heir. The heir-apparent, Octavius, thinks he’s the heir. It is also the first time she stands up for herself and acts.
Notes from Larry: Here’s where it isn’t clear. They want her, because she has what they really want … but what does that mean? They want her dead? They want her to marry [insert name]? What do they really hope for? Seems like they “want her out of the way” rather that simply wanting her.
These motivations on the part of the various antagonists need to be clear and scary.
It’s a good plot point, if it’s credible. Tertia simply standing up for herself isn’t enough. She needs to prove it, and when she does, now the game is really “on.” We need to see her standing up for herself, and there need to be consequences that launch her down the story path.
Here’s another issue: How does this FPP alter her path, create a quest, and launch the dramatic path toward confrontation with the antagonist(s)? That’s not quite clear yet.
At what point in your story does your First Plot Point occur? (Note: The optimal location is at the 20th to 25th percentile mark.)
At the 23 percent mark.
Notes from Larry: This is ideal.
What happens in your Part Two scenes? How does this illustrate a response (the contextual goal of Part Two) on the part of your hero?
Tertia is abducted and drugged, and an attempt is made on her life by way of a near drowning. Alex finds her and saves her.
Notes from Larry: Good—if you can explain how killing her, while pregnant, serves the needs of the killer. If the baby also dies, does that mean the killer becomes the heir (meaning it must be Marc Antony)?
But I fear a major mistake forthcoming. Ultimately, Tertia needs to save herself. Do not rely on Alex to do the saving. We are rooting for her, not necessarily Alex. This is her story; she needs to defeat Antony and her husband.
This is a make-or-break issue. It’s the difference between a “romance” that doesn’t make dramatic sense and a mainstream book that could be stellar. She needs to earn the nametag of hero.
Do you have a pinch point moment in the middle of your Part Two sequence?
A Cassius POV scene where he and his mother devise a new plan on how to find Tertia.
Notes from Larry: And do what to her, or with her, specifically? The consequences of finding her is where the threat lies. The reader needs to know and feel the weight of that threat.
What is the Midpoint contextual shift/twist in your story? What new information does it impart to the story, and how does this shift the hero’s context from “responder/wanderer” to “attacker/warrior?”
The attempt on Tertia’s life ends in miscarriage. Believing Cassius orchestrated her near drowning, she realizes that even without the baby she still has the ammunition to be free of Cassius.
Notes from Larry: A good plot twist. But for it to work, the reader needs to immediately be able to root for a different outcome—it was about the child; now it’s about Tertia’s own safety, and not allowing these villains to win. This dynamic needs to be set up subtly in the exposition that precedes the midpoint.
An alliance by marriage is only good as long as the parties involved are alive. Cassius’s attempt on her life is proof he holds no special regard for her family. Brutus will have to grant her a divorce, which will also force Cassius to return her dowry. (Worldbuilding fact: Divorce is only possible if a woman’s patriarch or husband permits it. Tertia’s patriarch is Brutus.)
Notes from Larry: Good. Then this becomes her heroic quest—to convince her brother to grant her this divorce on these grounds, and to avoid Cassius in the meantime. Is this credible? Have you put her in a position to pull this off? What equity does she have with her brother (that needs to be established; Brutus can’t suddenly enter the story as a rabbi-out-of-the-tunic solution).
What happens in Part Three of your story, now that your hero is in proactive attack mode (against the external problem/goal)?
Tertia learns from Alex how to wield a dagger in self-defense so as never to be taken by surprise again. She falls in love with Alex. She has sex with Alex. She gets her aunt on her side.
Notes from Larry: Careful … we’ll never swallow the notion that she could defeat Cassius in a knife fight. She’ll need a better solution or strategy than this.
This is a very important part of the story: She needs to be on a path toward doing something specific to achieve her goal. She can’t be passive here, simply responding to what comes at her (that was the context of the Part Two scenes). She needs to be proactive, in charge of her own fate, doing something … and there needs to be continued obstacles and hazards in doing so.
What is your strategy to escalate dramatic tension, pace, and stakes in the second half of your story?
Tertia’s brother does not believe that Cassius was involved in her kidnapping or near drowning and her mother takes his side. Tertia turns to Alex, the only person who she thinks believes in her, and asks him to run away with her. He rejects her because he knows she will never be happy without the life that she knows or the family she loves. Cassius and Brutus discover the lovers together, and Tertia is forced to go east with Cassius as he begins to build an army, while Alex is imprisoned for sleeping with another man’s wife.
Notes from Larry: It sounds like she’s still in passive victim mode. What is her plan? Her strategy? At this point, you need to give the reader something to root for, not just a diary/documentary of hopeless helplessness.
What is the Second Plot Point in your story? How does this change or affect the hero’s proactive role? What new information enters the story here?
On the brink of committing suicide because she thinks she’ll never be free and never loved or valued, Tertia realizes that she isn’t the one who has to die. If Cassius were dead, then she would be free.
Notes from Larry: Be careful—it’s really hard to root for a hero who is considering suicide. But overall, now you’re cooking. This is huge. It’s a great second plot point. Love it.
But your Part Three quartile is still contextually off the mark, because she’s victim-y, helpless, not really working an angle or a strategy there (in the scenes after the midpoint and before the Second Plot Point). It’s okay if her plan tanks, but she needs to transition from “responder” (in Part Two) to “attacker” (in Part Three).
Do that, and show us how “all is lost” right before the Second Plot Point, and then make the Second Plot Point her moment of clarity—she has to kill her husband. Now you’ve got a killer Part Four and resolution on your hands.
I hope. It depends on how you end it. I’m on pins and needles here.
Your reader will be, too … if you tweak some of this, as I’ve described.
How does your story end? Describe how your hero becomes the primary catalyst for this resolution.
Tertia attempts to poison Cassius, but she fails.
Notes from Larry: Well, I hope there’s more, a postscript of some kind that shows her winning in some way.
At the Battle of Phillippi, Tertia is imprisoned in Cassius’s tent. When Cassius believes he is defeated, he returns to his tent to commit suicide, but he tells Tertia he is going to kill her first. Tertia knows she doesn’t deserve to die. He might not find her worthy of living, but she does. Cassius lunges at her, and she uses the dagger Alex had given her to mortally stab Cassius before he can hurt her.
Notes from Larry: And there you go. Nice! I love it.
You have a potential winner on your hands. The key is understanding your own core dramatic arc, and including dramatic tension over the course of all four parts.
After reading this, I would toss the Alex POV. This isn’t his story. It slows things down, and it’s off topic. Use him as a catalyst, someone she falls for, but don’t ask the reader to root for him from his point of view. It’s not his story; it’s hers.
If this was my story, I’d tell the whole thing from Tertia’s POV. For one thing, that would simplify what could end up being a massively complex and confusing read.
Read The Hunger Games, which is entirely in Katniss’s POV (unlike the movie, which goes behind the curtain) Your story doesn’t benefit from including multiple points of view. Take us on Tertia’s journey, and make us feel what she feels, fear what she fears, aspire to what she aspires to—in first person. That’s the strategy I would recommend.
Notice, too, how the so-called “romance” angle virtually disappears in these answers. That’s because it is a bit contrived and forced; it is not part of the core dramatic arc. So don’t force the Alex romance, or if you do “feature” it, Alex needs a bigger role as co-conspirator. He can’t disappear from the story as he does. They need to do this together—do it for each other. That’ll make the romance angle work, without trying to turn the whole story into a “romance novel,” which it isn’t.
I hope these notes help take you to a higher level with this great story. I encourage you to write it with courage and vision, and not to please your genre-specific writer friends. This is bigger than that.
Thanks for the look. I wish you great success. Please keep me posted.
I hope you can see why I included this case study. Even when a concept is terrific, full of promise, and dripping with innate dramatic tension, there can be a laundry list of ways to screw it up. The key to avoiding disaster is your level of storytelling knowledge, which contributes toward a heightened story sensibility that will serve you once you square off with the blank page.
Story sensibility is everything. It’s the key to fulfilling your writing dreams. The lack of this sensibility may be what got you rejected, while nourishing it will empower you toward the successful revision of your story.
I hope you’ve found the tools and rationale to embark upon that journey in this book. Nothing will ever make the task of writing a great story easier, because the process is inherently fraught with risks and challenges, and is never an exact science. But those tools and truths will make the awaiting rewards more reachable, elevating you into a league that tolerates no poseurs and no guesswork.
The only other ingredient required, worth mentioning here, as you close the cover on this book, is perseverance. Story sensibility is an organic thing. It feeds on input and glories in practice. Feed it well, cultivate its growth, and learn to trust it as you move forward.
May you be the hero in your own writing story. May your quest be filled with bliss and your endings full of reward, the greatest of which is knowing you gave your story your all, and that your all was fueled by truth and the courage to embrace it.