Anchored Scenes: How to Ground Your Readers in Every Moment

Welcome back to The Pencil’s Edge.


Imagine opening a novel, landing in a new scene… and having no idea who’s talking, where they are, or when this is happening.

If that’s ever happened to you, you know the feeling: disoriented, confused, maybe even tempted to put the book down.

That’s why anchoring your scenes is essential—and why Fictionary’s Scene Anchored story element deserves your close attention.


📌 What Does It Mean to Anchor a Scene?

To anchor a scene means to orient the reader quickly and clearly in three specific areas:

  1. POV — Who is experiencing the scene?
  2. Setting — Where is it taking place?
  3. Time — When is it happening?

Every scene needs to establish these three things in the first few paragraphs, ideally without being heavy-handed. When done well, the reader glides effortlessly into the scene. When missing, the reader stumbles—and might not keep going.


🛠 How to Use This Element in Fictionary

On the Evaluate page in StoryCoach, you’ll assess each of the following:

  • POV Anchored?
  • Scene Setting Anchored?
  • Scene Time Anchored?

Click the blue circle to mark each as anchored when those elements are established early in the scene.

Then, on the Visualize > Story Map, select:
☑️ Scene Name
☑️ POV Anchored
☑️ Scene Setting Anchored
☑️ Scene Time Anchored

You’ll get a clear visual of which scenes are doing their job—and which ones may leave your readers drifting.


🎯 Why This Element Matters

When your scenes aren’t anchored, your reader may:

  • Wonder who the narrator is
  • Have no idea where they are
  • Struggle to piece together the timeline

Worse yet, they may stop reading out of frustration.

And as editors or story coaches, that’s exactly what we want to help our clients prevent.


⚠️ When to Give Feedback

After reading the manuscript, check the Story Map. If:

  • One or two scenes aren’t anchored — Leave a note in the scene’s comments
  • More than three scenes aren’t anchored — Address the issue in the summary letter and suggest a pattern fix

📌 Important Exception:
If your POV character is waking up in a foggy room or trapped in darkness, intentional disorientation can add tension. Just make sure it’s clear the confusion is on purpose—not poor anchoring.


🧠 Advice for Writers

Want to keep your readers locked into your story? Make sure they’re never confused about:

✅ Who

Identify the POV character early. Especially important in multi-POV stories.

✅ Where

Offer setting clues in the first few lines. You don’t need a full description—just orient the reader.

✅ When

Ground your scene in time. Has a minute passed? A year? Is it day or night? Let readers know quickly.

Examples:

  • “It was barely dawn when Mallory stepped into the greenhouse…”
  • “Jake hadn’t seen this courtroom since the day his mother died.”
  • “They waited in the car for exactly twelve minutes before the knock came.”

Subtle anchoring works just as well as direct exposition—and often better.


✍️ Editor’s Tip

If you find a scene hard to track, it might be missing an anchor. Use the “Anchored” elements to flag what’s missing: POV, setting, or time.

Then suggest the author:

  • Add a line that grounds us in time (“It had been three days since the accident…”)
  • Shift description earlier in the scene
  • Reintroduce the POV character more clearly

Remember: the sooner a reader understands who, where, and when, the sooner they’re drawn back into the story.


🔄 Final Thought

Every new scene is a reset. And every reset needs a reorientation.

Whether your story spans hours or centuries, anchoring the reader in POV, place, and time gives them confidence—and gives your story clarity.

It’s not about writing more—it’s about writing with precision.


It’s Here: Millie’s Daughter Is Now Available!

After almost two years of on-and-off writing, rewriting, and walking with Millie and Molly through every challenge they face, I’m honored to announce that my newest novel, Millie’s Daughter, is officially available.

This story is raw, emotional, and deeply personal. It’s about a mother who risks everything to protect her daughter—and the journey that follows when home is no longer safe.

🛣️ About the Book

Millie Anderson has only one goal: get her daughter, Molly, out alive.

What begins as a desperate escape from domestic violence becomes a powerful story of survival and resilience. From a duplex apartment in Chicago to the streets of New York City, and on to Millie’s hometown of Sanford, North Carolina, Millie’s Daughter follows the heart-pounding journey of a mother and daughter forging a new path in the face of overwhelming odds.

Along the way, they encounter moments of kindness, unexpected allies, and threats that refuse to stay in the past. As their bond deepens, so do the questions about trust, healing, and what it truly means to start over.

Millie’s Daughter is a story about grit, grace, and the enduring power of love—even in life’s darkest moments.

📦 Where to Get Your Copy

You can now order Millie’s Daughter in the following ways:

  • Direct from me via Payhip – This is the best way to support my work. You’ll receive a signed paperback (while supplies last) or a downloadable eBook instantly. 👉 Buy on Payhip. To review all my novels, click here.
  • On Amazon – Available in both Kindle and paperback editions. 👉 Buy on Amazon
  • Local Events – I’ll be making limited local appearances in North Alabama this summer. Stay tuned for dates if you’d like a signed copy in person.

🙏 Thank You

To everyone who encouraged this story, listened to my ideas, or simply asked how it was going—thank you. Writing is often a lonely road, but your interest and support make it worth every mile.

If you do read Millie’s Daughter, I’d love to hear your thoughts. A short review on Amazon or Payhip goes a long way in helping others discover the book. And as always, feel free to share the story with someone who might need it.

Here’s to new beginnings—and to the stories that help us find our way home.

Warmly, Richard L. Fricks

Scene Closing Type: How to End Every Scene So Readers Can’t Stop Turning Pages

Welcome back to The Pencil’s Edge.


What’s the last thing your reader sees before flipping to the next chapter?

The final line of a scene is like a cinematic cut: it either fades to black, slams a door, or opens one. Fictionary’s Scene Closing Type element helps writers strategically shape those final moments to heighten tension, reinforce character, and keep readers eagerly pressing on.


🎯 Why Scene Closings Matter

We often obsess over great beginnings—and rightly so—but how you end a scene is just as important.

Scene closings have a job to do:

  • Raise a question
  • Create tension
  • Reveal a new emotion or truth
  • Propel the story forward

When every scene ends the same way—especially with description—readers feel it. Repetition dulls impact. That’s where the Scene Closing Type insight comes in.


🧩 The Four Scene Closing Types

Each scene can end in one of these four ways, based on the last sentence in the scene:

💬 Dialogue

“I’m not coming back,” Jake said.
Ends with someone speaking—often leaving the reader with a direct or emotionally charged statement.

🧠 Thought

Get a grip and pull yourself together, she thought.
Ends with the POV character’s internal reflection, hinting at growth, doubt, or decision.

🌅 Description

The clouds parted over the empty marina as the tide rolled in.
Ends with atmospheric observation or narration—can calm the pacing or reinforce tone.

🏃 Action

He clenched his jaw, slammed the door, and disappeared into the dark.
Ends with movement or physical response—drives urgency and motion.


🛠 How to Use This Element in Fictionary

On the Evaluate page in StoryCoach, choose the appropriate Scene Closing Type from the drop-down menu once you’ve read the final sentence.

After completing your read-through, use the Scene Closing Type insight on the Visualize page to assess:

  • Variety and balance of closing types
  • Repetition of a single type (especially description)
  • Genre expectations (e.g., action-heavy endings in thrillers)

⚠️ When to Revisit a Scene Ending

Your closings might need work if:

  • Multiple scenes in a row end the same way
  • You notice too much description with little payoff
  • The last line feels flat or disconnected
  • Readers would have no reason to keep going

📌 Tip: If a scene ends with summary or setting detail, consider cutting back to an earlier moment with a stronger hook—like a revelation, decision, or threat.


💬 Examples: One Scene, Four Closing Styles

Let’s say your scene involves someone discovering a betrayal. Here’s how you might close it differently:

  • Dialogue: “You knew all along,” she whispered.
  • Thought: I should’ve seen it coming.
  • Description: The shattered photo frame lay at her feet, glass scattered like confetti.
  • Action: She turned and ran, the letter still clenched in her fist.

Each version reveals something unique—emotion, tone, pace, and character response.


🧠 Advice for Writers

As you revise:

  • Use the Scene Closing Type insight to avoid repetition
  • Match the closing style to the tone and purpose of the scene
  • Choose closings that create forward momentum—a reason to read on
  • Use closing type to reveal character traits (passive vs. proactive, emotional vs. calculating, etc.)

🎯 Pro tip: If your genre thrives on suspense (thrillers, mysteries, YA), lean into action and dialogue. If you’re writing introspective or literary fiction, thought and description may be more dominant—but still require variation.


🔄 Final Thought

Your reader just hit the last line of your scene. What do you want them to feel?
What do you want them to do?

If the answer is “keep reading”—then your scene closing type better make it irresistible.

Use it well. And use it wisely.


Molly Anderson: A Voice That Refuses to Be Silenced

Here’s more about my latest novel–Millie’s Daughter.


Every once in a while, a character walks into a story and surprises you.

You think you know what role they’ll play. You think they’re just the daughter, just the sidekick, just the kid.

And then they start speaking.

And you realize: they’re the soul of the story.

That’s who Molly Anderson is in Millie’s Daughter.

She’s more than the girl Millie is trying to protect. She’s more than a victim of circumstance. She’s more than her age.

She’s the reason Millie runs. She’s the reason the reader stays. She’s the one whose quiet observations and buried questions ripple through the entire novel.


Writing a Child Who Sees Too Much

Molly is twelve when Millie’s Daughter begins—but life has forced her to grow up early.

She doesn’t have the language for everything she’s witnessed. She doesn’t always know how to express what she’s feeling. But she knows.

She knows something is deeply wrong in their home. She knows her mother is afraid but trying to hide it. She knows to stay quiet when Colton is drinking and to disappear when voices rise.

And yet, she is not broken.

Molly reads. She writes. She thinks in metaphors and keeps a small notebook where she sketches her thoughts—little stories, reflections, lists of questions she’s too scared to ask out loud.

In a way, Molly is the novelist inside the novel.


Why Molly Matters So Much

For me, Molly represents what survives.

When everything else is stripped away—safety, comfort, normalcy—what remains is this irrepressible spirit. This fire.

She challenges Millie without even realizing it. She grounds the story when the danger escalates. And in the end, she’s the one who carries it forward.

Molly isn’t perfect. She’s impulsive. She’s scared. She sometimes retreats into silence or fantasy. But that’s what makes her real. And it’s also what makes her brave.


A Glimpse of Molly

Here’s a moment from early in the novel, just after she and Millie have left Chicago behind and are waiting at a rundown bus station:

“You think he’ll find us?” Millie looked at her, startled. “No. No, honey. We’re safe.” Molly nodded and turned her gaze back to the vending machines. She didn’t believe her. But she didn’t want her to lie better. She just wanted to get on the bus.

This line always gets me. Because in it, Molly does what so many children do: she sees the truth, understands the stakes, and chooses—out of love—not to press any further.


Looking Ahead

Molly’s voice deepens as the novel unfolds. And though Millie’s Daughter is told in third person, it’s Molly’s emotional growth that quietly steals the show.

In the next post, I’ll be sharing more about the novel’s upcoming release—what you can expect, where it will be available, and what kind of experience I hope it gives you as a reader.

But for now, I’d love to know:

Have you ever read a novel where the child wasn’t just present—but essential? One whose voice stuck with you long after the story ended?

Let me know in the comments—or just hit reply if you’re receiving this via email.

Until next time, —Richard

Scene Opening Type: Hooking the Reader from Line One

Welcome back to The Pencil’s Edge.


What’s the first thing your reader sees when they start a new scene?

If your answer is “uh… description, probably?”—you might be missing a key opportunity to grab their attention.

The Scene Opening Type is one of the most underrated elements in storytelling, yet it plays a huge role in pacing, tone, and reader engagement. With Fictionary’s StoryCoach, this becomes a trackable—and improvable—element of your craft.


🧩 What Is Scene Opening Type?

Every scene in your novel begins one of four ways:

  1. Dialogue – A character speaks
  2. Thought – A character reflects or reacts internally
  3. Description – The setting or surroundings are introduced
  4. Action – Something physical happens

Each of these has its strengths, and a well-written novel uses a variety of them to keep the storytelling dynamic and engaging.


💡 Why It Matters

Readers subconsciously look for momentum. The first line of a scene tells them whether they’re about to plunge into conflict, reflect on emotion, or learn something new about the setting.

If every scene starts the same way—especially with description—the story starts to feel static. Predictable. Easy to skim. And for writers, that’s dangerous territory.

A good balance of scene openings ensures:

  • Tighter pacing
  • Better engagement
  • Clearer shifts in tone and purpose

✍️ How to Use This Element in Fictionary

In StoryCoach, you’ll tag each scene’s opening type using the drop-down menu under the Plot tab on the Evaluate page.

Here’s how to identify the opening:

✅ Dialogue

“Don’t touch my dog,” Susan said.
💬 If the first sentence includes speech—even with a tag—it’s dialogue.

✅ Thought

Since Lance didn’t like personal messages on his cell, Shannon wrote a note.
🧠 If it starts in a character’s head, it’s thought.

✅ Description

The sun rose over the Atlantic, the waves breaking like glass.
🌅 Any narrative that sets the scene visually is description.

✅ Action

Jake scrambled forward and pulled Shannon’s tether.
🏃 Movement without speech or internal commentary = action.

Once you’ve tagged each scene, visit the Scene Opening Types insight on the Visualize page to see your balance. Is it weighted heavily toward one type? Could that type be used more strategically?


⚠️ When to Reconsider a Scene Opening

If you notice:

  • A string of scenes starting with the same type (especially description)
  • Your genre demands more motion or tension early
  • Readers may be confused about who’s speaking or acting
  • The opening doesn’t match the tone or purpose of the scene

…it’s time to revise.

Example:
If your protagonist just experienced a traumatic loss and the next scene begins with a scenic panorama of the beach, you might be dulling the emotional impact. Try opening with thought or action to keep the emotional momentum.


🧠 Advice for Writers

Here’s a quick guide based on scene intent:

Scene PurposeRecommended Opening Type
Emotional ReactionThought
Conflict or DangerAction
Revelation or ConversationDialogue
Grounding in New SettingDescription

🎯 Tip: When using thought or dialogue, don’t delay revealing who else is in the scene. Readers need quick grounding to stay oriented.

📖 Genre Matters:

  • A thriller might rely more on action and thought.
  • A literary novel may favor description and internal reflection.
  • A romance could open scenes with emotional thought or interpersonal dialogue.
  • A YA mystery might benefit from rapid alternation between action and clues.

🔄 Final Thought

You’ve got one line to hook your reader—use it well.

The Scene Opening Type doesn’t just set the tone—it determines whether your scene surges forward or stumbles at the gate. With Fictionary, you can track, balance, and refine this element until every opening hits just right.


Millie Anderson: Strength in Silence

If you passed her on the street, you might not notice her.

She doesn’t beg for attention. She doesn’t command the room. She doesn’t crack jokes to make you like her.

But Millie Anderson doesn’t need to be loud to be powerful.

She is the heartbeat of Millie’s Daughter. And if you let her in, she just might stay with you forever.


The Woman Behind the Escape

When readers first meet Millie, she’s not in the middle of some grand transformation. She’s in survival mode. She’s hiding bruises under makeup. She’s quietly transferring money into a hidden account. She’s tucking her daughter into bed at night while watching the door.

What struck me while writing her is that strength doesn’t always look like strength.

Sometimes it looks like folding laundry while planning an escape. Sometimes it looks like applying for a job in another city while pretending everything’s fine. Sometimes it looks like protecting your child at the cost of your sanity.

Millie is doing all of that—and more.


Writing a Woman Who Refused to Break

Writing Millie wasn’t easy.

She’s guarded. She keeps her thoughts close. She doesn’t want to be pitied. And she doesn’t always make “perfect” decisions—because no one in real danger ever does.

But she’s also:

  • Brilliant in her planning
  • Fierce in her loyalty
  • Unflinchingly honest with herself, even when it hurts

Millie also lives with bipolar II disorder, something she never uses as an excuse—but never hides either. Her highs and lows are real. They color her judgment, complicate her escape, and challenge her recovery. But they also add to her humanity.

She is not her diagnosis. She is not her trauma. She is a mother who refuses to let her daughter grow up afraid.


My Favorite Line from Millie (So Far)

“I don’t care if the judge believes me. I don’t care if the world believes me. I just care that Molly never has to see his face again.”

It’s lines like that—raw, simple, protective—that remind me why I had to write this book.


Want a Glimpse into Her World?

Here’s a short excerpt from early in the novel, when Millie has just made the final decision to flee:

Millie stood at the edge of the bed, watching Molly sleep. Her chest rose and fell, slow and steady, and Millie imagined time freezing right there—no Colton, no deadlines, no fear. Just a child, safe under blankets she didn’t know were packed for leaving. She swallowed hard, knowing what came next. Once they walked out that door, nothing would ever be the same. But staying? That wasn’t an option anymore. “I’m sorry, baby,” she whispered. “We’re running because I love you. And someday, you’ll understand what that means.”


Coming Up Next

In the next post, I’ll introduce you to Molly—the daughter at the center of it all. She’s wise beyond her years, carries a fierce sense of justice, and has a gift for seeing through people’s masks.

If Millie is the novel’s heart, Molly is its voice.

Thanks for reading—and if Millie has already left a mark on you, I’d love to hear your thoughts in the comments.

—Richard

Fictionary Story Elements: Purpose

Welcome back to The Pencil’s Edge.


Why Every Scene Must Pull Its Weight

In fiction, there’s no room for fluff. Readers are sharp. They expect every scene to mean something—and when one doesn’t, they feel it. That’s why Fictionary’s “Purpose” story element is so essential.

If a scene doesn’t drive the plot or develop characters, it’s not just a missed opportunity—it might be a story-stopper.


🎯 What Is the “Purpose” of a Scene?

The Purpose refers to the reason a scene exists. It answers this question:

Why is this scene in the story at all?

A well-structured novel has a clear purpose behind every scene, whether it’s introducing a new character, building tension, establishing a setting, or dropping a vital clue. A purposeless scene might wander or feel disconnected. Worse—it might bore the reader.

That’s why we ask:
Does this scene earn its place?


🛠 How Fictionary Helps You Identify Scene Purpose

In StoryCoach, you can assign a purpose to each scene via a dropdown menu on the Evaluate page. Choose from common options like:

  • Develop Character
  • Move the Plot Forward
  • Build Suspense
  • Establish Mood or Setting
  • Introduce or Develop Conflict
  • Reveal a Clue or Red Herring

Can’t figure out the purpose? Choose “Don’t Know Yet.” This doesn’t mean you’ve failed—it means you’ve identified a potential problem. And that’s progress.

On the Story Map, you can sort by Scene Name and Purpose to visualize whether your scenes are balanced and purposeful—or whether some need attention.


⚠️ When to Revisit a Scene’s Purpose

Here are red flags that a scene needs reworking:

  • You can’t name it in three words or fewer.
  • You don’t know its purpose after reading.
  • It contains multiple competing purposes.
  • It doesn’t advance the plot, character arc, or theme.
  • It feels like filler—even if the writing is good.

Sometimes, the solution is to split a bloated scene into two. Other times, you might combine two weaker scenes into one with a clearer, stronger purpose. And occasionally, yes—cutting the scene is the best move.

Pro tip: Don’t delete it forever. Save it in a “deleted scenes” file. You may use it in another novel or repurpose it later.


✍️ Writer’s Takeaway

When you revise your manuscript, ask yourself:

  • Can I name this scene in three words or fewer?
  • What job is this scene doing for my story?
  • Is every element—from setting to dialogue—working toward that goal?

If the answer isn’t clear, take a closer look. Strong scenes have a focused, intentional purpose—and when you link that purpose to other story elements like Tension, Conflict, and POV Goal, you create a story that feels tight, immersive, and hard to put down.


🔍 Editor’s Insight

As editors, we flag any scene with unclear purpose using “Don’t Know Yet” in StoryCoach. When three or more scenes lack purpose, that’s a structural issue we’ll address in the summary letter. When it’s just one or two, we’ll leave notes directly on the scene for guidance.

Purpose isn’t just one element among many—it’s the glue that holds the rest of the scene together.


Why Millie Had to Run – And Why I Had to Write Her Story

There are stories we tell because they’re fun.

There are stories we tell because they won’t leave us alone.

And then there are stories like Millie’s Daughter—stories we tell because, if we don’t, we’re not being honest. Not with ourselves, not with the world, and not with the people we write for.

This is one of those stories.


Millie Anderson didn’t arrive in my imagination all at once. She crept in gradually, quiet and guarded, much like the way she moves through the first pages of this novel. I didn’t set out to write about domestic abuse. I didn’t plan to write a novel with a knife pressed against the throat of a mother’s love. But once Millie appeared—scarred, brilliant, determined—I couldn’t look away.

She had to leave. She had to run. And I had to follow.


What Millie’s Daughter Is About—And What It’s Really About

On the surface, Millie’s Daughter is a suspenseful story about escape: a mother and daughter flee an abusive partner and try to rebuild their lives in New York. But at its core, this book is about something deeper—something more haunting.

It’s about what happens after the escape. It’s about what courage looks like when you’re still afraid. It’s about a mother’s quiet resolve, a child’s growing awareness, and the brutal cost of breaking free from someone who refuses to let go.

Millie is intelligent. She’s resourceful. She’s a dedicated mother. But she’s also a woman with bipolar II disorder navigating trauma, guilt, and uncertainty. That duality is what drew me in—and what made writing her story so important.


Why This Story Matters to Me

I’ve spent much of my life in the world of law and logic—working as a CPA, then as an attorney, and now as a story coach and novelist. But no amount of logic prepares you for the emotional terrain of writing about a woman trying to keep herself and her child alive, both physically and emotionally.

In some ways, Millie’s Daughter is the most emotionally honest book I’ve written. It carries within it not just suspense and heartbreak, but also flickers of grace—tiny moments of tenderness and light that keep Millie and Molly moving forward.

And maybe that’s the real story here: the refusal to surrender to darkness, even when it’s all around you.


One Final Thought

As I prepare to release Millie’s Daughter in just a couple of weeks, I’m inviting you to walk this road with me. In the next few blog posts, I’ll be introducing you to Millie, to her daughter Molly, and to the world they’re fighting to survive in.

But for today, I want to leave you with a question:

What fictional character’s escape story has stayed with you the longest—and why?

Leave a comment below if you’d like. I’d love to hear your thoughts as we begin this journey together.

—Richard

Story Arc: Crafting a Structure That Keeps Readers Turning Pages

Welcome back to The Pencil’s Edge.

We’ve all read stories that hook us early, build suspense through the middle, and deliver an unforgettable ending. That kind of pacing doesn’t happen by accident—it’s a product of solid structure, and in the world of story coaching, that means understanding the Story Arc.

Fictionary’s Story Arc isn’t a formula—it’s a framework. A way to make sure your story delivers what readers crave: forward momentum, rising tension, and meaningful change.


🧭 Why the Story Arc Matters

The Fictionary Story Arc draws from thousands of years of storytelling tradition. It helps writers and editors evaluate a manuscript’s shape, ensuring the key events happen in a sequence—and at a pace—that keeps readers invested.

A compelling story arc includes five pivotal scenes:

  1. Inciting Incident
  2. Plot Point One
  3. Middle Event
  4. Plot Point Two
  5. Climax

Each event plays a distinct and necessary role in your protagonist’s journey. When one is missing—or out of place—readers may not know why, but they’ll feel something’s off.


📊 Using the Story Arc Element in Fictionary

When you import your manuscript into StoryCoach, it takes a first pass at identifying these key events. But ultimately, it’s up to you—the writer or editor—to decide which scenes truly anchor the story.

If the automatically tagged key scenes make sense, great! But if not, you can revise:

  • Use the Evaluate Page to update scene purposes
  • Adjust scene positioning to bring major events into the right ranges
  • Use the Visualize Page to track the Story Arc and see how your story flows

⏱ Ideal Placement of Key Scenes

Here’s a quick reference for where your five key scenes should generally land:

Scene TypeIdeal Range
Inciting Incident0–15%
Plot Point One~25%
Middle~50%
Plot Point Two~75%
Climax85–95%

These aren’t rigid rules—they’re guideposts. But straying too far from them without purpose can slow your story or confuse readers.


🔍 Let’s Look at Each Scene in Detail

1️⃣ Inciting Incident

This is the moment that disrupts your protagonist’s ordinary world and introduces the central problem. 📍 Should occur in the first 15% 💡 Tip: Let readers experience it—don’t just summarize it in backstory.

2️⃣ Plot Point One

The point of no return. Your protagonist decides to engage with the conflict. 📍 Should occur around 25% 💡 Example: Luke Skywalker chooses to leave Tatooine. He’s all in.

3️⃣ Middle (Midpoint Shift)

The story shifts. Your protagonist stops reacting and starts acting. 📍 Occurs around the 50% mark 💡 Example: Dorothy discovers the Wizard is just a man behind a curtain—and changes course.

4️⃣ Plot Point Two

Your protagonist hits a low point. They’ve tried, and things just got worse. 📍 Usually around 75% 💡 Sometimes called: “Dark Night of the Soul” or “All Is Lost”

5️⃣ Climax

The ultimate test. Your protagonist must face their biggest obstacle and determine their own fate. 📍 Typically occurs at 90% 💡 Must Include: The protagonist. This is their moment.

🎯 Resolution

Everything that happens after the climax. Tie up loose ends. Offer payoff. Show change.


📌 When to Reevaluate Your Arc

Your story may need attention if:

  • A key event is missing
  • A key event happens too early or late
  • A key event feels emotionally flat
  • The protagonist isn’t present during pivotal moments

The Story Arc isn’t about checking boxes—it’s about building an emotional journey that lands.


🧠 Advice for Writers

As you revise your manuscript:

  • Map the five key scenes using Fictionary’s Story Arc insight
  • Ask: Is my protagonist at the center of each one?
  • Consider pacing: Do these events escalate tension and raise the stakes?
  • Use scene names and purpose tags to double-check placement and focus

If a scene doesn’t move the arc forward, ask yourself—does it really belong?


🔄 Final Thought

A great story doesn’t just wander—it builds. It compels. It climaxes. The Story Arc is the narrative engine that makes that possible.

Structure your novel with intention—and give readers a story they’ll feel in their bones.