Story Structure Architect

by Victoria Lynn Schmidt

Build a timeless, original story using hundreds of classic story motifs!

It's been said that there are no new ideas; but there are proven ideas that have worked again and again for all writers for hundreds of years.

Story Structure Architect is your comprehensive reference to the classic recurring story structures used by every great author throughout the ages. You'll find master models for characters, plots, and complication motifs, along with guidelines for combining them to create unique short stories, novels, scripts, or plays. You'll also learn how to:
•Build compelling stories that don't get bogged down in the middle
•Select character journeys and create conflicts
•Devise subplots and plan dramatic situations
•Develop the supporting characters you need to make your story work

Especially featured are the standard dramatic situations inspire by Georges Polti's well-known 19th century work, The Thirty-Six Dramatic Situations. But author Victoria Schmidt puts a 21st-century spin on these timeless classics and offers fifty-five situations to inspire your creativity and allow you even more writing freedom. Story Structure Architect will give you the mold and then help you break it.

This browsable and interactive book offers everything you need to craft a complete, original, and satisfying story sure to keep readers hooked!

Genres: Writing, Nonfiction, Reference, Crafts, Language, Ebooks, Film

288 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 2005

Reviews

[Gaylin Walli · Rating 3 out of 5]

People will undoubtedly criticize two things about this book: it's formulaic and the author uses movies examples. What people are clearly forgetting is that the book's intent is to discuss "formulas" for storytelling, which it does admirably well and in great detail, and the book isn't about *books*. It's about *stories* and how to tell them. Stories largely transcend the medium in which they appear so the author's use of the movies make sense for her background (which was film studies, if I'm not mistaken).

This isn't the kind of book about the craft of storytelling that you can read straight through. You really must take it in bites and tastes in order to appreciate the sections it presents. Is it thorough? Yes. Is it engaging? For the most part, yes. Will it help me improve portions of my writing? Yes, if only for the fact that it shows me patterns of themes common to all great stories. I class this book in the "once I know the rules I can consider bending or breaking them" category. This book teaches the rules. I plan to break them some day.

[Michael · Rating 2 out of 5]

This book is a deconstruction of the major themes and plots behind most western story telling. The author, Victoria Schmidt, is a graduate of film studies, explaining why most of the references and examples are films rather than books. However, storytelling is storytelling, no matter what the medium.



The first two chapters were the most useful from a writer's perspective, outlining and defining the three acts most familiar to western thinkers, planning and development of plot and character. I felt a lot more could have been addressed in these sections.



The third chapter is an extensive catalog of 55 different situations, outlining their use as plot, subplot or incident. How useful this section is, and it's the bulk of the book, is questionable. If exploring and understanding the major plots of western culture is what you're looking for, this section is for you. If you're looking for insight into the creative writing process, this is not the right place to look.



The fourth and final chapter, research, skimmed over the very necessary step of getting your facts straight when telling your story. Of course, you don't want your hero riding off into the sunset in a convertible before cars had been invented, but there's more to it than that. The author calls this to attention, and gives some indication of resources to use, but it's a light section and more could be said here.



I would have liked to see more in depth analysis of stories that matched the fifty five scenarios, rather than mentioning four examples at the end of each situation. Of course, doing so would quadruple the size of this book.



All in all, I'll put this book on my shelf and occasionally take it down for reference. I can't recommend this for anyone looking to learn the craft of writing.

[Heidi · Rating 1 out of 5]

I found this book very confusing and was particularly turned off when I discovered that all the examples came from movies, not books. But the final straw was when, under the chapter of "Imprudence and caution" she gives this definition of "Little Women": "Jo waits too long to decide to marry long-time friend, Laurie, and eds up losing him to her younger sister."!!!!!

[Anthony · Rating 5 out of 5]

Actually, full disclosure: I finished this book years ago. I have found this an absolutely indispensable tool in constructing any story that I write. Every type of story, plot and situation is fully explained complete with familiar examples for each one. If you write, whether you're a seasoned pro or just starting, I strongly recommend this for your library. I further recommend this book to be within arm's reach at all times.

[Sherry · Rating 4 out of 5]

I love this book. Some readers have commented that they found it too formulaic - but of course it's formulaic, it's offering an insight into the many ways that one structure and organise a story. And it's strength is that in offering one a whole host of options, it defies being formulaic because it demonstrates what a wide range of options there are. If anything, this book has opened my eyes and broadened my horizons and helped to kick my brain out of being a little too predictable in my own storytelling.

I'm not sure if it's a plus or a minus: since reading this book I've gotten even better than I always was at spotting plot development in TV and movies. I can see those "twists" coming!! :) Drives my friends nuts.

[StarMan]

Tedious and detailed, but possibly useful if you're into such (instead of lighter, more inspirational books on writing technique).

Probably NOT a great book for the beginning/novice writer. Maybe OK for those who are interested in 40+ different types of plots, and can read about such in detail without falling asleep.

VERDICT: At least 2 stars, purely for depth. Let's call it about 2.8 stars. Round to 3 if you must.

[Adrienna · Rating 1 out of 5]

I was just trying to learn more as a writer, boring!

[Demetri Papadimitropoulos · Rating 3 out of 5]

“Story Structure Architect” arrives with a promise that feels almost contrarian in a craft culture that swings between commandments and rebellion: not the iron law of plot, not the romance of “just follow your muse,” but a workable middle path between control and surrender. In the introduction, Victoria Lynn Schmidt borrows the image of a sitar tuned neither too tight nor too slack, and builds her argument on that balance: over-plotting can strangle spontaneity, while pure improvisation can leave you with subplots, loose ends, and an arc that never quite rises.

The book’s chief pleasure is its tone: practical, brisk, and strangely compassionate. Schmidt does not write as if you are a sinner who must repent your ignorance of “the rules.” She writes as if you are already doing the work and simply need better questions at the right moment. The pages are packed with those questions, and the guiding idea is simple: if you can name what kind of story you are actually telling, you can stop fighting your draft and start designing it.

Her method is modular. Instead of one master map, she offers a sequence of conscious choices and treats them as the writer’s real leverage: Dramatic Throughline, Conflict, Genre, Structure, Situations, and Research. Early on she lays out, with disarming clarity, what the reader will find within the book: five throughlines, six conflict types, twenty-one genres, eleven structures, fifty-five situations, plus research guidelines.

Part 1, “Drafting a Plan,” begins by insisting that writers stop confusing plot with motion. A Dramatic Throughline, Schmidt argues, is the central question that keeps a reader turning pages. She names five: the main character succeeds, is defeated, abandons the goal, has an undefined goal, or requires the reader to create the goal. The list is almost disarmingly plain, and that plainness is the point. Many writers stall not because their premise is weak, but because the draft keeps shifting its promise: it wants, in alternating chapters, to be a triumph story, a defeat story, and an ambiguity story, and the reader can feel that instability even if she cannot diagnose it.

If the throughlines are the compass, the conflict chapter is the pressure system. Schmidt’s six conflict types expand the familiar shorthand into categories meant to help a working writer diagnose what is actually driving tension: relational, situational, inner, paranormal, cosmic, social. The categories overlap, of course. A social conflict becomes relational the moment “society” gains a face. But overlap is not a failure here; it is a reminder that conflict is an arrangement of pressures, and the point is not purity but awareness. You name the dominant pressure so you can stop scattering your attention across six different kinds of friction at once.

That emphasis on perception is the book’s quiet psychological intelligence. Schmidt’s background does not show up as jargon; it shows up as a steady insistence that a story is staged inside an interpretive mind. What does the character interpret as threat? What do they interpret as love, as humiliation, as safety? Even when Schmidt is giving you lists and models, she is asking you to return to motive and meaning – not as an abstract “backstory,” but as the engine that makes a choice feel inevitable.

The genre chapter is more menu than canon. Schmidt openly concedes that genre categories change with history and medium, and her list reads as a snapshot of contemporary conventions. Its real use is not the labels themselves but the implied question behind each label: what do you want your reader to feel, and what contract are you making with them? A writer who calls a book a “mystery” is promising a kind of curiosity and closure; a writer who calls it “tragedy” is promising a different kind of satisfaction – one less about solving and more about witnessing. Schmidt’s definitions are not always startling, but they are clarifying, and clarity is the book’s recurring virtue.

Where “Story Structure Architect” distinguishes itself most sharply from the crowded shelf of plot manuals is Part 2, “Building the Structure.” Schmidt’s big move is to treat structure not as a single staircase but as a set of shapes you can choose according to the kind of experience you want to create. She begins with traditional structure as a reference point, then offers eleven “master structures” that range from variants on the familiar to forms that deliberately resist it. Her preface to the structures argues that structure is how you persuade the reader that the door you have chosen is inevitable. It is not a formula so much as a sequence of invitations, each one asking the reader to consent again: yes, this matters; yes, I will follow you.

Some of the master structures are engines of tension. “The Roller Coaster Ride” is the high-concept, plot-driven model in which the story does not build toward one climactic peak so much as generate smaller peaks that stack and escalate. Schmidt describes the shape directly: multiple climaxes, each building on the last, with the plot moving the characters rather than the other way around. For writers drawn to action, thriller, and disaster stories, this chapter clarifies why saving the big moment for the end can actually weaken a premise that should feel breathless. If the premise is a bomb, the narrative must tick.

Other structures organize meaning rather than adrenaline. A replay model depends on return and re-interpretation; a parallel model divides attention across mirrored storylines; an episodic model gathers resonance through accumulation. “Fate” invites writers to consider inevitability as a source of tension rather than a killer of suspense: if the ending is foreknown, then dread, irony, and ethical choice must do the dramatic labor that surprise usually performs. “Melodrama,” treated without embarrassment, argues for emotional intensity as an aesthetic, not an accident.

Then come the two structures Schmidt treats as content-driven: “Romance” and “The Journey.” This is a smart reframing. When writers treat romance or a quest as genre alone, they overlook how these stories demand particular turning points: the repeated tightening and loosening of intimacy; the trials that force the protagonist to choose a self they can live with; the kind of ending that is less twist than changed capacity. Here the book’s voice is at its best: not preaching what you must write, but clarifying what your chosen shape will require from you, scene by scene.

Finally, Schmidt offers three structures that many novice writers fear, and treats them as deliberate designs rather than failures: “Interactive,” “Metafiction,” and “Slice of Life.” By naming them as craft choices, she performs a small rescue. A writer who has only been taught to worship a conventional climax may assume that a slice-of-life narrative is merely plotless, when in fact it is often plotted differently: the pressure is distributed, the satisfactions are quieter, the turn may be an awareness rather than an explosion. Schmidt’s approach insists that unconventional form still has load-bearing principles.

Part 3, “Adding Stories,” is the book’s warehouse of catalysts. Here Schmidt revisits Georges Polti’s “Thirty-Six Dramatic Situations” and argues that Polti’s brief outlines are better for analysis than for drafting. She expands the roster to fifty-five situations and, more importantly, adds implementation: prompts, variations, and contemporary examples meant to move the situations from taxonomy into practice. She also roots this expansion in the concerns of “45 Master Characters,” explaining that her effort to locate and articulate both feminine and masculine story journeys reshaped how she looks at narrative patterns and helped her see a yin to each yang even in writing craft. Whatever one thinks of gendered framing in mythic models, the practical upshot here is useful: Schmidt searches for neglected patterns and then turns them into workable templates, which is exactly what a stuck writer needs.

Read charitably, the situations are not meant to be dumped into a story like spices. They are meant to correct a familiar structural failure: the middle that moves but does not deepen. The best situations are not merely happenings; they force a character to choose between competing values, to risk disgrace, to violate loyalty, to accept a sacrifice that has consequences. A situation is, in effect, a moral machine. When it works, it produces not just plot but character revelation.

The book’s pedagogy becomes clearest when it distinguishes between plot-driven and character-driven storytelling. In plot-driven stories, events move and characters react; in character-driven stories, characters initiate and events follow from choice. This is one of those distinctions that feels obvious once named but can save a draft from confusion. If you are writing a plot-driven premise and you keep stopping for interior rumination, your tension leaks. If you are writing a character-driven premise and you keep inventing set pieces to force motion, you risk turning your characters into props.

And then, almost modestly, Part 4 arrives: research. After so much taxonomy, this chapter could have felt like an afterthought. Instead, it is the book’s most grounded section because it addresses the moment when all the scaffolding must become scene. Schmidt argues that research is not a dump of facts but a way to create mood, tone, and class texture, and she demonstrates the difference between generic description and specificity that carries social meaning. The key word is organic: research should be filtered into scene and dialogue where it belongs, not poured on top like a lecture.

The overall experience of “Story Structure Architect” is one of abundance: many lists, many names, many models. That abundance can be liberating for writers who have been taught that structure means one staircase and that every story must climb it the same way. Schmidt offers exits. If your premise wants repeated climaxes, she gives you a map. If your story is designed to accumulate rather than crescendo, she tells you how to make accumulation feel intentional. If your narrative wants to play with artifice, she does not slap your wrist; she offers you a blueprint.

But abundance has a shadow. A taxonomy can become a talisman. When you are anxious about a draft, it is soothing to decide whether your conflict is social or relational, whether you are writing parallel or episodic, whether you need flight and pursuit or reunion. It feels like progress, because it is progress in naming. Yet naming is not making. The book occasionally risks encouraging the illusion that if you select the right category, the work will begin to behave. In practice, structure models are only as useful as the scenes you write with them, and scenes are made of attention, timing, and language – not labels.

There is also a mild dating to some of Schmidt’s reference points, especially when she gestures toward specific web tools or leans heavily on film examples of a particular era. This does not undo the craft, but it asks the reader to translate. A contemporary writer will swap in newer resources and, more importantly, consider how the examples mutate across media: serialized narratives that stretch turning points, interactive fiction that is no longer marginal, hybrid forms that blur genre and structure in ways that were less visible when the book first appeared.

More substantively, the book’s emphasis on structure can underplay the autonomy of language. Schmidt is right that many manuscripts collapse because the writer cannot sustain a second act, clarify a throughline, or calibrate conflict. She is also right that research detail can animate tone. But a writer can choose a throughline, stack conflicts, select a structure, and still produce prose that feels dead on arrival. Style is not merely the result of good planning plus accurate facts. It is rhythm, compression, surprise, and a way of seeing that cannot be reverse-engineered from a checklist.

Still, the book is at its best when it refuses to become a rigid manual. Schmidt keeps returning to choice: not only the character’s choices on the page, but the writer’s choices in design. Even when she offers templates, she frames them as options that must be filtered through your story’s needs and your appetite for control. The book’s most persuasive argument is not that structure is salvation, but that structure is awareness. Used lightly, her models become a way to stop blaming writer’s block and start asking what the draft is failing to decide.

The clearest proof of the book’s usefulness is that it is easy to imagine how a working writer might actually use it. You could open a draft in trouble and run a small diagnostic sequence: Which dramatic throughline is operating right now? What conflict is dominant in this chapter? Is the structure I’m using asking for repeated mini-climaxes or for cumulative resonance? Which dramatic situation would force a meaningful choice rather than add noise? What single research detail would shift the scene from generic to lived? These questions do not write the book for you, but they do something almost as valuable: they point you back toward the exact place where a decision is being avoided.

For a writer who wants a single gospel, Schmidt will feel too pluralistic. For a writer who wants a set of lenses to diagnose a stalled draft and to expand the range of shapes that structure can mean, she is often genuinely useful. I finished the book thinking not that I had been given answers, but that I had been given better questions, asked in a voice that assumes I will do the hard part myself. My own verdict lands at 65 out of 100: ambitious, frequently clarifying, sometimes overwhelming in its categorizing instinct, but ultimately valuable for writers who want structure to serve imagination rather than replace it.

[Denver · Rating 5 out of 5]

Run into a rut? Want inspiration? Comparison for other plot types?

This book has it all. It's a must read for writers of all levels of experience.

It gives a detailed description on how to write what types of plots and how to write them and gives examples just in case you're curious.

[Debra Daniels-Zeller · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is either the writing book you've been waiting for, or it isn't. It's a complex book and a lot went into writing it. Many interesting questions are raised but, I found the book confusing--5 dramatic throughlines, 11 dramatic structures, 21 generas and 55 situations--this book seemed consumed by numbers. And numbers don't make for the most compelling reading. The dramatic situations taken from George Polti's book from 1945 and expanded on and if you can find the situations from the book you're working on, this book helpful. It could also possibly be helpful if you're just started writing and have no ideas. Some of the categories seemed odd here, like the metadata structure (like Ferris Buellers Day Off--how common is a metadata structure? I get it, this book is attempting to be inclusive but by including everything, a reader is compelled to skip sections. This book is also in my unfinished pile for that reason.

[Hunter · Rating 4 out of 5]

A reference guide to plot structures, and 54 different dramatic situations. I read a library copy quite quickly (admitting that Section 3 which contains the 54 dramatic situations can be an eye glazer) but am glad I picked up a free ebook version for my Kindle library last NaNoWriMo, as the book will provide some browsable ideas when I'm stuck in a writing phase. Section 4 on research seems an un-necessary tagon, as the book isn't really a writing craft how-to write a story at all.

As a reference to structures we can see through many stories, on and off-screen, I give this book 4/5 stars. It's an excellent reference tool.

[K.P. Merriweather · Rating 3 out of 5]

Got it to mainstream my writing. Mainly for Western writing, it covers common plot and structure elements in movies (here applied to fiction) . However she gets some points wrong under the genre section like supernatural elements in science fiction or a musical using songs to tell the story (I guess stories about bands, singers or anything regarding the music business applies under the musical label here). Her fantasy section was very lacking. There are many subtypes she missed.

Used in conjunction with plots unlimited, one can come up with a strong story outline to work with.

[D.L. Pitchford · Rating 3 out of 5]

3.5 stars

This book has a lot of helpful information, and I very much enjoyed learning about the different story types, especially because Schmidt emphasizes the inclusion of typically feminine story types, which are often ignored by those who favor the Joseph Campbell-style story.

However, I often found myself bored while reading this and had to push my way through it. I'm glad I did because there are lots of diamonds in the rough here. But if the book were more succinct, it would have been decidedly more compelling.

[Olivia · Rating 5 out of 5]

For anyone that is interested in writing a novel, this book should be on your short list. This book is extremely helpful (especially the 54 character situations) if you already have a story idea in mind. After each character situations chapter, I would consider if that situation would benefit the story I had in mind. If so, I used the questions and outlines for each plot/ subplot/ situation to detail that part of the story. After reading this, I have a much better idea of my characters and their personalities because I threw them into a few of these situations and saw how they reacted.

[Joanne Wyers · Rating 3 out of 5]

Great breakdown showing over 50 "situations" most novels/movies use as a format - either in plot, sub-plot or situation. A useful resource once you have a clear idea of what you are going to write about. Helpful by listing questions in each "situation" for the beginning, middle and end that will enhance your characters.

[Melissa Polk · Rating 3 out of 5]

There's a lot to think about after reading this book. It wasn't what I was looking for, exactly, but I have no doubt I'll be flipping back through it from time to time. I wish she could have used more literary examples and less movies but *shrug* what're you going to do? Odds are I'd still have only read a fraction of them (as it is, most of the movies are familiar to me in name only).

[Nikki · Rating 3 out of 5]

Decent reference book.

[Margie Peterson · Rating 4 out of 5]

I wish I had time to go through the exercises that come after each chapter. This book has helped me figure out the plot arc for my current novel.

[Charlotte Tamm · Rating 4 out of 5]

A good reference book for writers to have on their shelf. Fun for brainstorming new ideas.

[Syahira · Rating 4 out of 5]

Story Structure Architect is an interesting book to read even if you aren't a storyteller. Like its name, the book detailed about the basic blocks that constitutes in making a story. This includes novels, novellas, screenplay, video games, choose your own adventures and etc. So technically, if you are looking for a read that detailed on each of these things, you wont get any but if you want to see things more clearly about the structure of a story (either its Final Fantasy 7 or Skyrim or 50 Shades rip-off), then this is quite a handy reference to have.

Set in four parts i.e. Drafting in a Plan, Building the Structure, Adding Stories and Finishing Touches. Surprisingly, it was very organized book without the tendency for the author to promote their own work. But even for a non-newbie writer, I don't think I would get a lot from this book except from the first part where it have excellent simplified structure an average person could use like list of conflicts and dramatic 'throughlines' to break those writing blockades.

Its not bad as its really nothing you haven't seen in the market unless you are doing creative writing syllabus that deals with these sort of things. Then, sure its a good book on its own. But if you are a beginner writer, then maybe you should go reading normal fiction than this kind of books so that you could have a framework that you could go on as everything in this book is very relatable to everything you see on films or books. Its not necessary but its a good thing to have if you are having hard time understanding the story structures.

[Taryn Moreau · Rating 5 out of 5]

I picked up Story Structure Architect as a reference book forever ago---back when physical book stores were a common thing, and the main way I found new titles.

I've peeked into from time to time when I grew frustrated with my novel plotting efforts, but could never seem to get the 55 Dramatic Situations in the book to work that well for me.

Recently, struggling once again to plot out a novel, I cracked open the book and actually read it from page 1. What a difference!

For the longest time, I've struggled with plot. It's probably my greatest writing weakness. I've read about the Hero's Journey, the Three Act Structure, and all the rest, but they never seemed to help enough when I sat down to outline a story. I always felt stuck concerning the little actions that especially filled the middle of a novel. What the heck were my characters supposed to *do* for 300 pages?

All these years, Story Structure Architect had the answers. It takes you through a series of very sensible steps to structure all kinds of stories (novels, TV dramas, interactive fiction, etc.), and then gives you 55 story situations your characters could deal with, as either a main plot, subplot, or incident.

Since properly reading it, this little blue book has remained right by my side. Definitely adding it to my writing essentials list.

[Elfscribe · Rating 3 out of 5]

Victoria Schmidt details 11 master plot structures such as romance, the journey, the slice of life and then goes through 55 dramatic situations such as vengeance for a crime and rehabilitation or falling prey to cruelty or misfortune. For each situation she discusses the type of characters involved. For example in falling prey there is the unfortunate person and a master who has control over them. She then asks questions that the author should consider in the beginning of the story, for example "an unfortunate has a tough time of it and things get tougher . . . " the middle, "in which the unfortunate deals with the cruelty or misfortune" and the end "in which the unfortunate succeeds or fails to put herself back together." At the end of each plot situation section there are examples of stories that fit the pattern.

The book was systematic and useful in looking at structure. It might be helpful if one is stuck writing a story to identify the plot structure being used and then see what the normal arc would be. Possibly.

[John Jemar · Rating 5 out of 5]

Advanced, technical, and useful in a writer's tool chest

[piranha · Rating 4 out of 5]

super-geeky reference work, well-organized and and concise. takes polti's well-known 36 plots The Thirty Six Dramatic Situations and illustrates/reworks/updates them. gives lots of sample situations and lists a couple published examples for each plot. the latter are all from movies, but i don't see that as a problem; story is story no matter what the medium.

my only quibble is that there is some blather about "feminine" versus "masculine" journeys with implications that women are special snowflakes who do things profoundly different from men, but the concepts are never explained. oh well.

i don't think i will be able to watch or read anything for a while without analyzing its plot and subplots. that is not a bad thing.

[Amy · Rating 3 out of 5]

This is nicely organized resource for writing. I especially enjoyed the chapter on the six types of conflict. Schmidt asks a series of open-ended questions to help with story-planning, and it helped me to get through some of the brainstorming for one of my story outlines.

In terms of examples, I agree with other reviewers that the focus on film is one-sided and does not always translate well to other media such as novels. I prefer Blake Snyder's overview of genres, and I prefer TVTropes.com for a broader overview of common conflict types. 3.5 Stars, mostly for easy-to-navigate organization and good brainstorming questions.

[Bec · Rating 4 out of 5]

Cookbook style guide to story structures which provides lists and descriptions of various dramatic throughlines, conflicts, and genres. Designed to give the beginning reader and overview of nearly a dozen master story structures and 55 dramatic situation, the book's strength is in showing how the simplest story structure can yield a complex and satisfying experience for the writer when dramatic situations are employed. Although limited to screenwriting and writing for adults, many of the principles can be applied to children's writing and especially writing for young adults.

[Becky Hoffman · Rating 3 out of 5]

It was good in the beginning, but then it slowly dwindled off. There are so many different forms of plot structure and this book made it almost overwhelming. Sure the movie references helped to give the imagery that they were hoping to explain with each chapter/segment, but it just became too much in the end. I recommend it for a fun look at all the different types of plot structure, but don't expect to learn too much from it because you'll just be overwhelmed by everything and probably won't remember all of it by the time you're finished with the book.

[Alicia Gregoire · Rating 4 out of 5]

This book effectively breaks down plot by explaining dramatic throughlines plus the different type of plots that can be used aside from the traditional 3 act structure.

This would've received 5 stars if it wasn't for the section on the 55 situations that can be used. As someone not familiar with Ploti, I was confused on some of the terminology and the best way to incorporate. I felt like that section could've been expanded a bit.

Even with that drawback, this was an excellent resource.

[Carrie Rolph · Rating 2 out of 5]

This was offered as a free Kindle download during Nanowrimo, so I grabbed it. It's mostly summaries of dramatic throughlines, conflicts, and genres that can be used in fiction.

As someone who's severely plot structure challeged, I found it semi-useful. It was enough to get me started thinking about potential ways to structure a story, but not enough for me to get something workable down on paper.

[Bill · Rating 4 out of 5]

I usually place many of these how-to books about writing on the same moral plane as chain letters: they offer no verifiable content, urge you to buy more, and threaten disaster if you don't follow them to the letter. That said, I found much of this book useful and helpful in my current wrangling with fiction. Analytic but not pedantic. It does lean on film more, but I suspect that's to provide recognizable examples in this post literate age. One I will come back to.