Prove you are a bad writer

(This is slightly longer than my usual posts, ringing in at more than 3,000 words - or around 12 minutes to read)

In my free time, I play around with writing fiction. It’s a lot like gardening - I collect interesting ideas, come up with unique worlds, and plots. Thus far, it’s mostly been a vehicle for fuelling my imagination rather than anything that produces a finished draft. It’s been on my list to actually sit down and write out a short story with some of my world building.
To that end, and in prescient fashion, YouTube recently recommended me a clip of an interview with Dan Harmon (creator of Community). In it, his argument is simple - instead of trying to be a good writer, prove you are a bad writer.

When we learn any new skill we are prone to suffering from the gap between our beginner’s skill level and the level we wish to perform at. If we aren’t intentional about managing it, this friction can stop our learning entirely. The only way to make progress is to make bad art…so that we learn how to make good art. Given time, practice, and feedback, we will eventually close this gap.

“The only thing that’s going to make you get better is practicing and the only thing you’re going to be able to write right now is something worse than what you think you should be writing.”.
– Dan Harmon

In the meantime, we can use all the help we can get when practicing. In the case of writing fiction, we must confront the tyranny of a blank page and write (something I struggle with when thinking about writing fiction). This gap can feel like a chasm sometimes - how do we go from our disconnected ideas for setting, character, and plot to something that reads coherently?

What we could use is some training wheels - something to help us get started so we can develop our sense of story to the point where we can take the training wheels off. To borrow from the academic analyses of story, we need a plot structure to hang our ideas off while we learn how to create the elements of a good story. One writer who mastered the use of plot structure was Lester Dent, a master of the golden age of pulp fiction.

Enter Lester Dent

Lester Dent made his living as a full time writer in the 1930’s and 40’s. That alone takes skill, but Dent was exceptionally good at it. He wrote 159 novels and many more short stories in just 16 years. He also wrote the content for 138 issues of Top Notch Magazine by himself (at a rate of 2 issues a month). At one point he had sold an impressive 7 million words in just 5 years (for an average price per word of 1.5 cents). His prodigious output allowed him to indulge in his hobbies - sailing, exploring, flying, amateur radio, and more.

If there was ever a writer to seek advice from on how to practice writing, Dent is a pretty good start. After all, anyone can produce a large quantity of words (especially now with LLMs). It takes some real talent to produce work that sold consistently for over a decade at a high rate of pay.
Today among writers he is most remembered for his “master fiction plot” in which he outlines the plot structure he used to produce his short stories. The author Michael Moorcock used this formula to write much of his Elric sword and sorcery series. It’s this plot structure that we can adapt for our training wheels today.

Refreshing the master fiction plot

The master fiction plot is the structure that Dent used in his writing to achieve his impressive output. However, unlike the more popular structures discussed in literature (such as Freytag’s pyramid, or the 3 act structure), the master fiction plot is a lot more concrete. It’s a formula for a 6000 word short story that, to quote Dent, “tells exactly where to put everything. It shows definitely just what must happen in each successive thousand words.”.

The original formula itself can be found around the internet - the University of Iowa hosts a copy, as do several others. I recommend giving it a read - it’s a fascinating look at a successful working writer’s process.

The concrete nature of Dent’s formula makes it an ideal tool for new writers. Unlike the 3 act structure (for instance), it provides specific placement instructions for dramatic conflict, and plot twists. This kind of instruction will help us maintain story tension, and ensure that the rising action doesn’t…deflate in the middle of our story.

That said, it is a product of the kind of stories that Dent wrote. If we want to use it for a wider range of story types, we’ll need to make a few tweaks to terminology (so as not to corral our thinking), the setup, and the conflict structure for each of the 1500 word parts. These changes will make our new set of writer’s training wheel more versatile and adaptable to new story ideas.

Terminology

The first thing we should keep in mind is a change of terminology - replacing “hero” and “villain” with protagonist, and antagonist respectively. While it might not seem that important, this serves to free our thinking about these roles.
This isn’t just about gender implications - it frees our thinking to new ideas for these roles. An antagonist doesn’t need to be human for instance - an inhospitable environment such as the icy desert of Antarctica can serve as an excellent source of trouble for a protagonist.

Setup

Dent’s formula has four elements for the setup. At least one is required, but the more the better. These elements are:

1. A DIFFERENT MURDER METHOD FOR VILLAIN TO USE - Think poison, garrotting, death by spiders, or getting smashed like a bowl of eggs by a falling piano.
2. A DIFFERENT THING FOR VILLAIN TO BE SEEKING - The gem encrusted falcon statue, the suitcase full of golden light.
3. A DIFFERENT LOCALE - Details to mention that help the locale stand out - a phrase in Egyptian for a story set there for instance
4. A MENACE WHICH IS TO HANG LIKE A CLOUD OVER HERO - the consequences for the hero if they don’t solve the challenge posed by the villain

We’re going to tweak each of these four setup elements in turn. They’re fine in their own right, but if we reach for the core concept behind each one, we can adapt this setup for a wider variety of stories.

A different story essence

The original plot calls for “a different murder method”, which is fine if people get murdered in our stories. However, the core concept of this setup element is also applicable to non-murder stories. It is prompting us to define the story essence - the unique or unusual mystery or challenge that the protagonist faces from the very start. This can be a murder mystery to solve, but it can just as easily be a new take on a heist story. Take “Die Hard” for instance - Hans Gruber and his team pose as terrorists to steal a fortune in bonds (knowing that the police will cut power to the building, thus opening the safe).

It helps to remember that this doesn’t necessarily need to be the work of the antagonist - they can be taking advantage of a situation (such as a natural disaster) to further their goals. The only requirement is that it is directly related to the antagonist pursuing their goals.

A different goal for the antagonist to be pursuing

Dent’s second element is a different thing for the villain to be seeking. Our antagonist can be seeking a Macguffin (gold bars, a ray gun, a bottle of rare gin, etc). But they can just as easily have an intangible goal - saving their old neighbourhood from demolition, exacting revenge, or trying to make it to retirement. Having a believable goal that isn’t “because evil” makes our antagonists and thus our stories more engaging to readers.

A locale that participates in the story

Here, we’re just intensifying Dent’s third element - a different locale. In his song, “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”, Gordon Lightfoot writes that Lake Superior “never gives up her dead”. This is perfect; it propels the lake from a body of water to being a natural foe, and a danger in itself.
The locale should participate in the story, aiding or hindering the characters in a meaningful way. To do that, we must add plot relevant details about the locale to bring it in on the action. Think about what makes the story locale unique, interesting, or challenging for the characters in it.

Trouble to propel the protagonist forward

The final element from the original formula is a menace which is to hang over the hero like a cloud. The protagonist needs something serious to motivate them into action, driving them into conflict with the antagonist. If this trouble can be caused by the antagonist (deliberately or accidentally), even better. Think “about to be evicted”, “loan shark will break legs in a day if I don’t pay”, or “my boss is going to fire me if I don’t close this deal”.

Story structure

Dent breaks his 6000 word short story into four parts of 1500 words each. The structure he recommends for each one is simple:

1. Shovel grief on the hero
2. Who works to overcome it, making progress that
3. Lands them in an actual physical conflict near the end of each 1500 words
4. Leading to a surprise plot twist near the end of each 1500 part

There’s some extra details for the start and ending parts. In the first 1500 words, you’ll want to introduce the cast as soon as possible, and start in the action as close to the first line as possible. For the last 1500 words, the hero must be neck deep in trouble, and they must resolve the story problem with their own skill and cleverness.

Before digging into our updated structure, a word on story conflict - Dent’s original plot structure calls for a physical conflict near the end of each 1500 word part. The conflict in our stories needn’t be so obvious, unless we’re specifically writing that kind of story. The “conflict” can be emotional, mental, ethical, or moral.
If we’re writing a story about a protagonist with a horrible boss, the conflict can be an argument with said boss (or a lackey). A moral/ethical dilemma makes for great drama. In the film “Horrible Bosses”, a character is forced to choose between illegally firing a disabled employee, or be fired themselves by their heinous boss.

For the purpose of explanation, we’ll keep the same word count target as Dent’s original formula. Bear in mind that it’s the proportions that matter here, so don’t feel forced to make the specific counts - as long as each part is roughly equal in length you should be fine.
However, we can update the foundational structure for each part to reflect our new setup and terminology.

First 1500 words

1. First line, or as close to as possible, introduce the protagonist and the story essence. preferably with the protagonist’s first encounter with it. Hint at the larger mystery or challenge of the story essence.
2. The protagonist pitches in to overcome the challenge facing them
3. Introduce ALL other characters as soon as possible. They should be either causing mischief, or helping to solve it.
4. The protagonist’s efforts land them in a dramatic conflict near the end of these first 1500 words.
5. Near the end of the first quarter, there is a complete surprise twist that changes the protagonist’s perspective/understanding/approach to their troubles.

We want to open in the action and grab the reader’s attention. One effective way to do that is to latch onto their curiosity from the first sentence. Starting as close to the protagonist encountering trouble as possible accomplishes this. Dent also recommends introducing the whole cast as soon as possible, and to bring them into the action. Characters in a short story should either be contributing to the problem, or helping to solve it somehow - there isn’t the word budget to waste.

Second & third 1500 words

1. Shovel more grief on the protagonist
2. The protagonist struggles to overcome the problems
3. Leading to another dramatic conflict
4. And a surprising plot twist to end each 1500 word part

The middle two quarters follow the core structure, making sure that the protagonist is slowly mired deeper in trouble. This is the rising action, building tension and suspense for the reader. It is important to note that it is important to give the reader small moments of decompression from this building tension.

This can come in the form of our protagonist succeeding in making progress in some fashion. If the protagonist’s action land them in a physical conflict, the decompression comes when they win (or escape without being completely kerb stomped, metaphorically speaking).

Doing this not only helps keep the reader engaged (and not so stressed they put the book down), but it also sets up opportunities for our surprise twists. If our protagonist escapes certain death at the hands of a hulking henchman, maybe they overhear the henchman updating their boss…and that they deliberately let the protagonist go.

Final 1500 words

1. Shovel even more grief onto the protagonist. Almost bury them, so that hope of success looks slim - they’re tied to a table with a band saw approaching, the antagonist has launched the missiles, etc
2. The protagonist extracts themselves from this neck deep grief using their own skill, training, or intelligence.
3. Clear up all the remaining mysteries/story questions in a final dramatic conflict in which the protagonist overcomes the story essence.
4. A final twist to end the 1500 words, such that we adjust the reader’s perception a little (or a lot).
5. A punchline to end it, leaving the reader with a warm fuzzy feeling.

The final quarter must figuratively bury the protagonist, making victory seem impossible. In the final dramatic conflict, the protagonist will use their skill and ability to overcome the troubles they’ve struggled with for the entire story. They succeed on their own merits - no god or machine to rush in and rescue them. A final surprise twist to end the story, and we’ve successfully written a coherent story with our new set of writerly training wheels.

A yardstick for progress

When directing our own learning for any new skill, it’s important to seek out or to set criteria to use as a yardstick when measuring the quality of our efforts. In this instance, Dent has helpfully provided a set of criteria to judge how well we’ve written each part of the story.
His criteria ask four simple questions for each part -

1. Does it have suspense and dramatic tension?
2. Does the protagonist’s troubles grow like a black cloud around them?
3. Is the protagonist getting it in the neck with each successive part?
4. Are all the events proceeding logically, linked by cause and effect?

These criteria ask us to examine our story from different angles to make sure we’re ratcheting up the tension as the story progresses. This is known as rising action, and it’s part of what keeps a reader engaged and interested in continuing to read our work.The first three criteria relate to this story tension.
The last question - are all events proceeding logically - is possibly the most important. Events in our stories must proceed not at random, but as a consequence of the preceding event.
The reader can only see what your prose shows them. If an event happens without a preceding cause, it severs the reader’s suspension of disbelief, and we will lose their interest. If, say, we want the antagonist to blindside the protagonist, it would be wise to lay the groundwork for that leading up to the event. That way the reader can make the connection, and we get room for the big reveal.

Concluding thoughts

This is not the only plot structure out there - they are plentiful in literary analysis, from Blake Snyder’s “Save the cat”, to Freytag’s Pyramid. It is, however, a plot structure that is more explicit about what to put where and when in the plot. This makes it an ideal candidate for beginner writers to use as they practice and grow. It has a track record for this - many writers found success with it, both during Dent’s lifetime, and after (we’ve already mentioned Michael Moorcock’s prolific run of Elric novels built with it).

“The best hygiene for beginning writers or intermediate writers is to write a hell of a lot of short stories. If you can write one short story a week—it doesn’t matter what the quality is to start, but at least you’re practicing, and at the end of the year you have 52 short stories, and I defy you to write 52 bad ones. Can’t be done. At the end of 30 weeks or 40 weeks or at the end of the year, all of a sudden a story will come that’s just wonderful.” – Ray Bradbury

It helps that this structure is specifically for short stories. Rapid iteration and experimentation will help us learn faster, and for a writer of fiction there’s nothing better for that than a short story. As Ray Bradbury says, you can’t write 52 bad short stories. Eventually we’re gonna hit a winner.

Is the master fiction plot, or our additions to it going to produce the world’s greatest story? Probably not. But you don’t race in the Tour de France on a department store bike with training wheels. You do, however, learn to ride on a department store bike with training wheels. That’s what we’re doing here - learning to write.

Practice enough with this plot, and we’re eventually going to outgrow it, feel it chafe at the edges of our ideas. At that point it will have served its purpose, and we will be well on our way to writing great stories. All we need to do now is sit down and write.