In this week’s episode, we wrap up the November Writing Challenge by taking a look back at the Five Iron Laws Of Storytelling, which have often been discussed on this show before.
Be sure to get your free copy of STORYTELLING: HOW TO WRITE A NOVEL at my Payhip store. The book will remain free until December 9th:
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TRANSCRIPT
Note: Spoiler alert at 3:35. Please check this section of the podcast before proceeding if you are concerned about spoilers for several older television shows, movies, video games, and books.
00:00:00 Introduction and Writing Updates
Hello, everyone. Welcome to Episode 229 of The Pulp Writer Show. My name is Jonathan Moeller. Today is November 26th, 2024, and today we are wrapping up our November Writing Challenge with a look back at The Five Iron Laws of Storytelling. You may note that I am recording this a bit earlier than I usually do, but that is because I want to take a couple days off for Thanksgiving.
To celebrate the end of our November Writing Challenge and to congratulate you all for listening to these shows, I am giving away free copies of my nonfiction book, Storytelling: How to Write a Novel on my Payhip Store. The link will be in the show notes, and if you follow that link, you can get a free copy of Storytelling: How to Write a Novel from my Payhip Store until December 9th. So follow that link in the show notes to my Payhip store and you can get a free copy of Storytelling: How to Write a Novel until December 9th.
Before we get to our main topic, let’s have a look at my current writing projects. My main project right now is Orc Hoard, the fourth book in the Rivah Half-Elven series, and that puts me at 55,000 words into it and that puts me on chapter 11 of 18. So I think the final draft will be around 85,000 words or so, which will make it the longest book in the series to date. And if all goes well, I very, very, very much want to have that out before Christmas. I’m also about 4,000 words into Shield of Deception, which will be the fourth book in my Shield War series and if all goes well, I am hoping that will be the first book I publish in 2025.
In audiobook news, the audiobook of Cloak of Spears, as excellent narrated by Hollis McCarthy, is now available at all the usual ebook stores. I will include a short preview of the audiobook of Cloak of Spears at the end of this episode, so you can listen to that then. And that is where I’m at with my current writing projects as we wrap up November and head into December.
00:01:57 Main Topic: The Five Iron Laws of Storytelling
So now let’s go right into our main topic, The Five Iron Laws of Storytelling. I figured this would be a good main topic to wrap up our November Writing Challenge with as it is a good reminder and a good summation of many of the things we talked about in the past month. The Five Iron Laws of Storytelling is a concept I first talked about on my website like 10 years ago now. The name Iron Law is sort of a tongue in cheek joke because I got the idea from a science fiction author Jerry Pournelle, who termed what he called Pournelle’s Iron Law of Bureaucracy, where describing that after a certain amount of time, a bureaucracy will cease to attend to the function to which it was created and instead devote its attention to sustaining and perpetuating the bureaucracy.
And I’m sure we can all think of examples of that, so that’s where I took the name from, but it’s not so much Iron Laws as these are useful principles to guide you while you are writing a fictional story, whether it’s a short story, a screenplay, or a novel. I would say it’s fair to argue that storytelling does have some laws you can follow (or at least if you don’t like the term laws, best practices) and a writer will ignore those best practices to his peril. When people get ticked off about the ending of a story like the ending of The Sopranos or the ending to Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, if they simply don’t like a novel or a TV show, it’s usually because the writer ignored one of more of these Iron Laws that we’re going to talk about. These then are what I believe to be The Five Iron Laws of Storytelling.
When discussing them, I will cite five examples that I think to be excellent examples of the craft of storytelling: the movie the King’s Speech, the movie Wreck-It Ralph, the movie Gravity, the novel Pride and Prejudice, and the TV series Breaking Bad. I should note that I did not personally care for Breaking Bad because it was too nihilistic for my taste, but nonetheless, it was an excellently crafted example of a well-written story. I’ll also cite four things I believe to be examples of bad storytelling: the final two volumes of Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, the Dragon Age 2 computer game, the original ending of the Mass Effect 3 computer game, and the ending of the Sopranos TV series. So note that there will be spoilers for all of these shows, films, books, and games. Now onto the five laws.
#1: The protagonist must have a problem that results in a conflict because if there is no problem, there is no story. Conflict and problems are engines that drive the story. A happy life with minimal conflicts and problems might be the ideal that we all want in real life, but it does make for an exceedingly dull story. The main character of his story needs to have a problem that results in some kind of conflict. Note that this conflict doesn’t necessarily have to have an actual villain, it just needs a problem to solve. The movie The King’s Speech doesn’t have a villain (though the future and former King Edward VII is kind of a jerk) but instead revolves around George VI’s efforts to deal with his speech impediment. Gravity likewise has no villain but centers around Dr. Stone’s efforts to survive in the harsh environment of space. So the protagonist must have a problem. The story is about how he or she deals with said problem, which leads us on to number two.
#2: The protagonist’s problem and conflict must be consequential to the protagonist and have real stakes for the protagonist. The problem has to be serious because if it is not, there are no real stakes, the reader will get bored and cease to care about the character. The worst of all worlds is an unlikeable character with a trivial problem. Walter White in Breaking Bad is a thoroughly unlikable character, but he becomes sympathetic to the audience because of the nature of his problem. He’s dying of cancer and so he turns to meth production to ensure his family’s security after his death. Walter’s problem, of course, has very real stakes, his own mortality and his family’s future, but the stakes need not be life and death, but nonetheless, they need to be emotionally serious and significant to the protagonist.
In the King’s Speech, at no point in the movie is George VI in any kind of physical danger. He is wealthy and respected, his wife and children love him, and he does not have the self-destructive impulses and nature of his brother. Nevertheless, his problem is real. It is emotionally painful and opposes a risk to both himself and his sense of duty to the monarchy and the country. Likewise, Elizabeth Bennett in Pride and Prejudice is in no physical danger throughout the book. Nonetheless, the stakes of her problem and her feelings for Mr. Darcy are consequential. If she does not secure a good marriage when her father dies, there is a very real possibility she’ll be impoverished. Or if she marries an unsuitable man like Mr. Wickham, her life will be miserable. So while a young woman dealing with her feelings seems like a trivial problem, it will nonetheless have potentially dire consequences for Elizabeth and her family if she chooses wrongly.
Physical danger is likewise an easy way to introduce high stakes to a story. In Gravity, Dr. Stone faces constant risk of death in a variety of agonizing ways due to the harsh nature of space. Wreck-It Ralph faces the prospect of non-existence if he dies outside his game. In Breaking Bad, other than the inevitable death from cancer, Walter White faces increasingly high odds of getting shot in the head by his business partners and customers, since crystal meth is clearly not a business for conservative-minded investors. Regardless of the nature of the problem and the conflict, it must be consequential and carry high risks and dangers for the protagonist. That said, the problem must be something the protagonist can conceivably deal with. Too vague of a problem or too powerful of a problem, and the story goes off the rails.
When I’m recording this in November of 2024, it’s a few months since the fourth Dragon Age video game came out, and if you look at the internet at all, there are of course frequent debates about which Dragon Age game was the best and which one was the worst. But in my opinion, Dragon Age 2 is the weakest of them because it runs smack dab into the problem we’ve been talking about. The central conflict in the game was strife between the mages and the Templars who are supposed to police the mages. The Templars claim that the mages are demon worshiping abominations while the mages claim that Templars are arbitrary and brutal. As it turns out both sides are right, regardless of which faction the protagonist chooses to aid, making the conflict of Dragon Age 2 to be human nature/social injustice. Regardless, it’s not a problem that can be resolved within the game and in the ending, the Templars and the mages go to war no matter what decisions the player actually makes, so I’m afraid that the story falls flat.
#3: The protagonist must take action and struggle to resolve his or her conflict and problem. A common failure in storytelling is a protagonist who has a serious problem but does nothing about it. We’ve all read stories with a passive protagonist, or even worse, a protagonist who does nothing but whine about his difficulties or thinks that by feeling bad about his or her problems, they will somehow magically get better. Worst of all is when a protagonist does nothing but whine or complain for two hours or 300 pages and somehow does solve all of his or her problems. This is apparently a common problem in the genre of romance novels. The opposite of this problem is the boring invincible hero. This is common in science fiction or fantasy series where towards the end of the series, the hero is so powerful that he or she can defeat all his problems using magic or a blast from a particle cannon. Struggle is necessary for a story.
If the protagonist does not struggle, the story will probably be boring. No, the protagonist has to take action, actual active action to resolve the problem, but he or she must struggle while doing so. In Breaking Bad, Walter White sets out to solve his family’s impending financial ruin by brewing up some crystal meth for sale. In Wreck-it Ralph, Ralph wants respect from the other denizens of his game, so he jumps to another game to win a medal and therefore prestige. In Gravity, Dr. Stone struggles to stay alive the entire time in the face of the indifferent hostility of outer space to human life. If these characters did nothing to surmount their problems, we would have boring stories.
#4: The protagonist must face challenges and setbacks and his or her efforts to resolve the problem that may even backfire. This is a good antidote to the boring invincible hero problem we just mentioned. Think of this as the unexpected complications ensue rule. You see this all the time in real life, it matters both serious and trivial. Like say you need to mail your rent check but you’re out of stamps, so you drive to the post office, but there’s an accident in the intersection and you have to take a different route. As you take a different route, your car breaks down. All these new problems need to be dealt with and you still have to mail the check. We’ve all had days like that, and fictional protagonists should be no different in the pursuit of their goals.
Additionally, it’s possible for a protagonist to inadvertently make things worse through his or her actions. Like in Wreck-It Ralph, Ralph sets off for his medal of heroism, but in doing so, accidentally puts his own game out of order and inadvertently unleashes the virus like cy-bugs in the Sugar Rush game. Walter White in Breaking Bad is a textbook example of this. In the course of attempting to solve his problems, he makes a number of extremely bad decisions that estrange him from his family and sent his business partners gunning for his head. In the King’s Speech, George VI gives up in despair believing he’ll never overcome his speech impediment. In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth torpedoes her relationship with Mr. Darcy because of her misunderstanding of his motives. And if you’ve seen Gravity, you know that Dr. Stone’s situation frequently goes from bad to worse.
#5: The ending must provide satisfactory emotional resolution to the problems raised in the story. Of all the Five Iron Laws of Storytelling, this one is undeniably the most important. Screw this one up and readers will be ticked and talk about on the Internet for years. Whatever crisis comes up in the story, whatever conflict or difficulties, it must be resolved in an emotionally satisfying manner
by the end of the story. It can be a happy ending or a sad ending or a mixture of the two, but it must be emotionally satisfying.
Let’s look at some bad examples first. Stephen King is an excellent writer. If you’ve read his book 11/22/63, you know that’s a great book. But when he’s written as much as he has, not everything is going to be good, of course. And Stephen King’s The Dark Tower series is a good example of a weak ending. After 22 years and seven books, the protagonist Roland learns that he has repeated his quest to the Dark Tower over and over again for thousands of years, forgetting every time, which makes everything that happened in the previous seven books utterly meaningless since the events happened before and will happen again. Therefore, there is no emotional resolution to the story or Roland’s quest for the Dark Tower.
The computer game Mass Effect 3 is another example of how not to end a story. In the case of Mass Effect 3, the original ending is simply too abbreviated. Commander Shepherd sacrifices himself or herself. A weird light shoots out of the Citadel. The Normandy crash lands on an alien planet, and that’s it. Considering the hundreds of hours of gameplay involved and the intricate network of emotional relationships between Shepherd’s companion and the dozens of subplots over the three games, the ending was too short to provide adequate emotional resolution. It felt a bit like a cop out as if the writers had simply said, okay, we’re done, stop here, and had given up before attempting the necessary ending. The ending of Dragon Age: Origins by contrast was an excellent example of a well done ending.
The ending of the Sopranos is an even more extreme version of this. Infamously, the series simply ends with a cut to black in the middle of Tony Soprano and his family eating dinner. Many viewers thought their televisions had failed. This is the ultimate example of a story of failing to provide emotional resolution. The final episode does not even attempt to do so. I suspect these problems arise when a writer tries to be realistic, which is what happens when a writer mistakes verisimilitude (a story feeling realistic) for realism. A story requires suspension of disbelief and attempting phony realism can cause the story to break down.
But let’s move from the negative to the positive and look at some good examples of endings. The ending of Breaking Bad was well executed, since it resolved the story’s emotional conflicts. Walter White does not escape punishment for as many crimes since he’s shot to death in the end. Additionally, he dies in the act of resolving some of the conflicts that he helped create. His meth empire has been taken over by his enemies and his former partner has been forced to prepare meth for them. Walter tries to provide for his family, free his partner, and defeat his rivals and dies at the end, killed not by his cancer, but by finally facing the consequences of his many bad decisions. Note that this is by no means a happy ending, but it is a satisfying ending, which is more important.
The King’s Speech ends well, with George VI addressing the nation over the radio without melting down due to his speech impediment, simultaneously resolving the conflicts over his stammer and his fear of accepting his duties as king. This is an ambivalently happy ending. George VI has overcome his conflicts, but the viewers know that the United Kingdom is about to go through World War II and George himself will die prematurely of lung cancer and heart disease in 1952. Nevertheless, the conflicts within the story have been resolved.
Wreck-It Ralph has a more straightforwardly happy ending. Every single conflict raised within the story is resolved. Ralph accepts his role as villain in the game, realizing he is a vital part of the team. He gains the respect of his neighbors, and the villainous King Candy and the cy-bugs are defeated. Additionally, even when the side conflicts are resolved: Fix It Felix marries Sergeant Calhoun, King Candy’s malevolent influence over the racing game has ended, and the homeless video game characters are able to set up inside Ralph’s game.
To sum up, stories have a sort of irresistible logic to them. Much like a properly balanced equation. a writer should set out to create a story that follows this logic, which will result in a far more enjoyable experience for the reader.
So that is it for this week. Thank you for listening to The Pulp Writer Show. I hope you found the show useful. A reminder that you can listen to all the back episodes at https://thepulpwritershow.com. If you enjoyed the podcast, please leave your review on your podcasting platform of choice. Stay safe and stay healthy and see you all next week.
Don’t forget to get your free book copy of Storytelling, how to Write a Novel from my Payhip store.
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