Creating a Story-Worthy Problem That Will Captivate an Audience

Image courtesy of IMDB and Netflix’s ‘Extraction.’

The story-worthy problem is the beating heart of all superlative fiction. Unfortunately, creating this central core can often be overlooked. This is particularly true for writers relying on school training.

English teachers didn’t mind we used twenty-five metaphors on one page because their goal was to teach us how to properly use a metaphor…not how to write successful commercial fiction.

Creating the core problem and then—possibly (depending on genre)—the many overlapping layers and misdirections, is tough mental work.

Story as Structure

Like any structure, a story demands a strong foundation and sturdy frame. Without structure, it’s easy for author (and audience) to become lost.

Without those elements? The story caves in. But, foundations and framing aren’t nearly as fun as picking out paint, furniture, or drapes.

Face it, for most of us, decorating a house is much more fun than building one. This can be the same for stories. Crafting the perfect sentence, poring over descriptions, tinkering with dialogue is fun.

Alas, like our ‘building’ everything has a certain order. The story-worthy problem is critical.

It will be this problem (requiring a satisfactory resolution) that holds the structure together and gives meaning to the existence of all the players on the field (characters).

Lack of a Story-Worthy Problem

I began this craft series not only for those who want to write at a professional level, but also for those who might find themselves stuck. Writer’s block has often been attributed to laziness, but I don’t wholly agree.

I believe—for those stuck—your subconscious begins by pumping the brakes. This is the warning something is missing.

You start off writing and the word count soars. Usually this lasts about 10,000 words. Then, your pace steadily slows. Finally, around the 25,000 to 32,000 word mark everything begins to collapse.

By this point, it can feel you’re trying to drag a boulder through a swamp.

My opinion? This is your subconscious now slamming the brakes. Something is missing. What?

The reason for the story.

Finally? You set your hard work aside, frustrated. This is why most writers keep going back and reworking the beginning, which makes sense. It was the only time the words came easily.

We long to revisit that carefree flow. Description is easier.

Why Are We All Here?

The story-worthy problem is why we’re all here. It’s the sole reason for the MC (main character) to even exist. The story-worthy problem is the sole reason for any and all characters to exist.

Without that core problem, everything is fluff and window-dressing.

Notice I keep using the term ‘story-worthy’ problem. Not all problems are created equal.

We have to ask, ‘Why are we here?’ ‘What is the point?’ ‘Why would an audience CARE?’

We live in a world with innumerable other distractions and ways to be entertained. This said, WHY would a reader choose to dedicate 10-15 hours (average time to read a novel) to your book?

Frequently, when I edit, the lack of the core problem is the single largest reason writers either can’t seem to finish. Or, if they do finish, sales are lackluster.

They’ve not defined that compelling reason an audience would choose reading over social media, video games, or another episode of The Bachelor.

Audiences MUST CARE

I know this seems simple. But guess what? A basic soufflé is very simple, yet one of the most challenging dishes to successfully create. Simple doesn’t mean easy.

Compelling story problems actually begin very simple. How much is then layered onto this is a matter of genre and taste. Yet, the problem is the hook.

Even a work as soaring as Game of Thrones has a simple goal—secure The Iron Throne, stabilize the realms before winter arrives. Granted, this ‘simple’ story-worthy problem evolves into a vastly complex web of lies, betrayal, and intrigue.

But, the core goal is simple—secure The World’s Most Uncomfortable Chair.

Elementary, My Dear Watson…



Image from BBC’s ‘Sherlock’, courtesy of IMDB

In a mystery, the story-worthy problem is frequently the crime. It might be a murder, a burglary, a forgery, a stolen identity, whatever. The point of the mystery is to solve the crime and deliver justice.

During quarantine, I’ve been watching the fabulous and binge-worthy BBC Sherlock series. I’ve simultaneously been inhaling The Complete Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock is presented with a case and how do we know the story has ended?

The great detective has not only solved the case and identified the what, how, where, and who, but the perpetrator is exposed and apprehended.

That is the point of a mystery. Same can be said for detective and crime novels (eg. Harry Bosch series).

Genre & the Story-Worthy Problem

Genre acts as a useful guide to answering WHY we (the audience) are there. Thrillers usually involve beginning with an initial taste of the far larger plan the MC needs to stop.

In thrillers, there are BIG consequences (e.g. stopping a terrorist attack on The Palace of Westminster). Say a seemingly random bombing in the tube is anything but.

This initial act ignites the story-worthy problem. It’s no random bombing, rather a race against time to stop the larger and TRUE goal…a much larger bomb attack when the House of Lords and House of Commons meet to pass a certain piece of legislation.

Story-Worthy Problems: Thriller or Suspense?

Suspense differs in that the consequences are more personal. Many serial killer books are a good example. For instance, Red Dragon follows Thomas Harris’s hero Will Graham who nearly died apprehending Hannibal Lecter.

In Red Dragon, however, Graham is on the trail of a killer known as The Tooth Fairy who’s infamous for wiping out entire families indiscriminately (or so they believe).

Graham’s goal is to figure out the pattern that will reveal the identity of the killer and then stop him.

But, notice the difference between thrillers and suspense. The collateral damage differs in scope and scale.

Save future families from extermination (suspense) versus a plot to implode the Western political system (thriller).

For more on details on genre (and the many variations), I recommend my older posts Fizzle or Sizzle? How Genre is Fundamental for Story Success and Choosing a Genre: Anatomy of a Best-Selling Story.

What’s Missing?

Why am I talking about the story-worthy problem? First it follows as a natural progression from our initial discussions of The Big Boss Troublemaker.

The core problem can be simple for a short story as well as for a sweeping and layered space opera. The only difference is in plot and how much is layered on top of that strong core problem.

The Story-Worthy Problem MUST Exist

Sadly, as an editor, what I see too often is writers believe they have a novel, when in truth, they have 80,000 words of ‘bad things happening.’

Me: What is your story about?

Writer: My main character wants to find out about her past.

Me: Why?

Writer: Because she does.

Me: Why? What happens if she fails? What is so important about her finding out about her past?

Writer: *blank stare*

Most audiences aren’t interested in the literary equivalent of watching over the shoulder of a stranger reconstructing a family tree for no purpose other than ‘to know.‘

This isn’t a story-worthy problem.

Yet, this is a ‘story’ I’ve been presented with more times than I care to count. But look at what’s missing. There are no stakes, no burning reasons to learn about this character’s past that can engage an audience.

It’s like being trapped on an airplane with the passenger next to you relaying her nasty divorce. Not only do we not care…we probably would resort to feigning air sickness to escape.

But with some minor changes, it’s EASY to change this ‘bad situation’ and ‘non-story’ into something interesting. We add in the story-worthy problem…the WHY.

Everything is in THE WHY

The WHY influences the stakes, the ‘what will happen if the MC fails.’ So our MC wants to find out about her past. WHY?

What if she discovers she is adopted right after becoming newly married? Shocking enough, but then, during a routine medical exam, she finds out she has a very rare disease even the best specialists can’t figure out.

They only can surmise it’s a congenital illness and fatal. If she can find her birth parents, she might find the cure.

But, to make matters worse (raising the stakes) the same routine examination reveals she’s pregnant. Now her life isn’t the only one on the line.

She (and the physicians) don’t know how much longer she’ll be able to carry the baby without terrible consequences.

Now, it is a matter of life and death to find out about her past if she hopes to live, if she hopes to save her child. The stakes are about as high as they can get.

Additionally, the clock is very much ticking because her health is failing and two lives are on the line. Or, if you’re feeling froggy, raise the stakes and on the second sonogram she realizes it’s TWINS!