Brandon Sanderson’s 2025 Overview of Story Structure (Lecture #3)

Welcome back to class! How’s your week been? For our in-person students, it’s been busy underneath the snow-capped mountains of Provo, Utah. Armed with their writing groups and some tools to begin developing their plots, they arrived at the third lecture with tons of great questions and enthusiasm. 

That’s what we’ll cover today. We’re diving into the third installment of Brandon Sanderson’s legendary BYU writing course on science fiction and fantasy. If you’re just joining us, we recommend reviewing the earlier lecture on plot before diving into this one. 

Last week, Brandon lectured on how to make promises in your story, progress those promises, and eventually make sure they pay off. This is a key part of his philosophy on writing engaging plots, so we want to make sure you don’t miss it!

Today we’re going to expand more on plotting and cover story structure. You’ve probably heard of the Hero’s Journey or Three Act Structure. In this lecture, we’re going to explore how you can use pieces of famous frameworks while simultaneously learning not to rely on any specific one. 

PSA: If you'd like to listen to the audio version of this lecture, look up "On Writing With Brandon Sanderson | Full Writing Lectures 2025" on the podcast platform of your choice.

Let’s get started.

The Foundation of Structure: Building the Scaffolding for Your Story

“A structure is something that you can hang your story on,” Sanderson explains, “that helps you develop consistency in the kind of products you’re producing.” There’s no better explanation. Story structure isn’t about dictating what your story is going to be, it’s about establishing a consistent framing so you can write satisfying books. 

At its core, story structure provides a road map. However, it’s not one so rigid that it can’t adapt to the specific demands of your plot, characters, and themes. 

Brandon warns against the risks of rigidly following story structures. “If you treat any of these frameworks as sacrosanct and become a cook rather than a chef, you may end up creating stories that don’t fit your vision.” 

Structure, when properly applied, shouldn’t limit your creativity. It should enhance it. Writers can struggle with balancing spontaneity and precision. Sanderson suggests thinking of structure as a tool that helps identify weak spots and ensure a natural flow to the story. If something feels off while you’re writing, understanding structure allows you to diagnose the issue and fix it efficiently.

“You don’t need to memorize every structure or framework,” Sanderson adds. Just know enough to recognize when a part of your story isn’t working.”

This might seem a bit backwards. Many writing advice books will tell you to start with story structure, but that’s not what Sanderson is getting at. You may use a framework to help get you started, but it will likely be the most useful in your revision process to ensure you’re writing something satisfying for readers. 

Escalation: The Driving Force of Conflict

What’s always going to be more important than any framework? Conflict. “The conflict and the struggle make the story, not the sequence of events,” Sanderson emphasizes. A compelling plot is not a chain of events. It needs escalating stakes that force growth, failure, or both.

Take Star Wars as an example. What starts as a simple need to deliver a message grows into a galactic struggle to destroy the Death Star. Sanderson explains this escalation using the "Yes, But / No, And" technique:

• The character attempts to solve a problem (Yes), but it comes with complications.
• Or, they fail (No), and things get even worse.

In Pride and Prejudice, Elizabeth Bennet's initial rejection of Mr. Darcy (No) leads to misunderstandings and tensions between these two characters. As the story goes on, each attempt to reconcile (Yes) is met with complications until they both grow emotionally and earn their happy ending. In that way, it’s satisfying! (And has been since 1813. Talk about a timeless story we could all learn a thing or two from.) 

Example: Luke Skywalker’s Journey

Since this is a class on writing science fiction and fantasy, though, let’s dig in a bit deeper to our Star Wars example.

• Does Luke get off Tatooine? Yes, but the ship’s captain is a smuggler with ulterior motives.
• Do they reach their destination safely? No, and they’re captured by the Death Star.

Each step escalates, driving the narrative forward and keeping readers engaged. The beauty of escalation is its ability to show character growth. As Luke’s challenges increase, so does his understanding of the Force, his role in the Rebellion, and his internal transformation (in other words, his character arc).

Now, writers can easily get carried away with escalation. Sanderson cautions against creating stakes that escalate too quickly without proper buildup, saying: “If your character goes from zero to saving the world in three chapters, the stakes won’t feel earned.” 

Gradual escalation ensures the emotional payoff actually lands. Have you ever seen an action film where the hero suddenly gains the ability to defeat a villain after minimal training or preparation? We’ve all been there. It doesn’t make for an enjoyable viewing experience! That’s what we’re trying to avoid with our escalation.Because when it works, it really works. The Karate Kid is a great example because each step in Daniel’s training builds toward his final victory, making the payoff feel authentic.

Story Circles and the Hero’s Journey

One of the most famous narrative structures is Joseph Campbell’s monomyth, popularized by The Hero with a Thousand Faces and used extensively in Star Wars. Why Star Wars? Well, because George Lucas is known to be a huge fan of Campbell’s philosophy. But Sanderson is not so thoroughly convinced, saying: “The idea that every story can be put into this same rubric is going too far.”

While Sanderson acknowledges that there are lots of great things about the Hero’s Journey, and that he does indeed pull pieces from it (more in the full lecture video), it’s not a framework he leans on heavily. 

Instead, Sanderson prefers Dan Harmon’s "Story Circle" as a simpler, more flexible adaptation of the monomyth that he feels gives him some more breathing room. The circle begins with a character in a state of ignorance or comfort, who is thrust into an adventure, faces trials, gains new knowledge, and returns home transformed.

Key Moments in the Story Circle:

1. Departure: The character leaves their comfort zone.
2. Trials: They encounter escalating obstacles that force growth.
3. Crisis: The character faces their darkest moment or greatest challenge.
4. Transformation: They gain the knowledge or power they need to succeed.
5. Return: The character brings their new understanding back home, changed.

Whether you’re writing a sprawling fantasy saga or an intimate character-driven drama, progress and transformation should be clear. The circle highlights how internal and external conflicts intertwine, pushing the character toward a satisfying resolution and making that progress obvious (in a good way) to the reader throughout the story.

“It’s not about rigidly adhering to these steps,” Sanderson reminds us. “It’s about understanding how progress and payoff work within the arc of the story.”

The Try-Fail Cycle: Mastering Discovery Writing

For discovery writers—or those who prefer to let their stories evolve organically—the Try-Fail cycle is likely going to be your go-to method. Sanderson shares with the class that nearly every discovery writer he talks to uses some version of the Try-Fail cycle to finish their projects. 

The cycle goes like this: Before a character can achieve their goal, they should encounter multiple failures, each more challenging than the last.

Sanderson cites Robert Jordan, author of The Wheel of Time, as a master of this technique. “Jordan would know major points he wanted to hit, but discovery wrote everything in between,” Sanderson explains. The failures should arise naturally from the plot, forcing the character to adapt and grow.

How the Try-Fail Cycle Works:

• Attempt #1: The character tries the obvious solution, but it fails.
• Attempt #2: They try a more complex or creative approach, but it also fails, often because of an internal flaw or external complication.
• Attempt #3: Success, but only after overcoming significant obstacles.

The key is that the failures reveal the character’s limitations, the villain’s strength, or a lack of knowledge that must be addressed. This technique also provides an organic way to introduce new subplots and deepen worldbuilding. For example, as Luke Skywalker faces setbacks in mastering the Force, the audience learns more about the Jedi Order, the Sith, and galactic politics.

Example: Luke Training as a Jedi

While we’re on a roll, let’s keep using Star Wars to illustrate the Try-Fail cycle in action. Keep in mind, though, that since Star Wars follows the Hero’s Journey so closely, it’s not a perfect example. But, what we have below is a good articulation of the technique.

• First Attempt: Luke struggles to control the Force during his training.
• Second Attempt: He improves but overestimates his abilities, leading to failure in key moments.
• Third Attempt: He finally succeeds after facing his fears and accepting his limitations.

Each failure builds emotional tension and sets up the eventual success as a moment of triumph. Sanderson notes that the most memorable heroes are those who fail intelligently—they make calculated attempts and learn from their mistakes.

Avoiding Plot Holes: The Art of Hanging a Lantern

Inevitably, writers will encounter moments that could pull readers out of the story. They’re frustrating when they show up in your manuscript, those pesky plot holes or unexplained events that leaves your beta readers saying things like, “I don’t know, it just took me out of it.”

Sanderson borrows a famous solution from theatre: Hang a lantern on it. 

To hang a lantern on something means acknowledging the issue within the narrative itself, often through a character’s dialogue or internal monologue. You typically see this on the stage. Maybe a portion of the set is rougher than the rest… the characters might point out an old lantern in that section that hasn’t worked in years. This implies to the audience that the writer knows that there’s something there, but it’s not important for you to pay attention to as an audience member. It keeps them in the story.

Example: The Gorilla in the Phone Booth

Imagine a character walking down the street, passing a gorilla in a phone booth. If this particular detail is left unexplained, readers will be distracted. They’ll lose track of what was happening in the story. If that character walking down the street was in the middle of a breakup with their significant other, the reader would likely disregard that important part of the story to wonder why there’s a gorilla in the phone booth.

The obvious solution is to remove the gorilla in the phone booth. But, what if you want that gorilla in the phone booth? Maybe you want to foreshadow something, but you don’t want to pull your reader out of the story. So, maybe you call it out. You have the character think to themself: Why is there a gorilla in that phone booth? I’ll deal with that later. By doing so, you signal to readers that you’re aware of the oddity and will address it when necessary. You’re telling them to trust you and that it’ll matter at a later point.

Sanderson stresses that hanging a lantern doesn’t mean hand-holding readers. Instead, it reassures the reader that you, the writer, are in control of the narrative. 

The key is to balance acknowledgment with subtlety. If done well, this technique can even enhance the mystery and intrigue of your story. However, overusing this method can (and almost certainly will) backfire, drawing too much attention to minor details and potentially distracting readers from the main plot. Use it sparingly and with intent to ensure it enhances rather than detracts from the story’s flow.

The Major Dramatic Question: Your Story’s Core

“Every story should answer a major dramatic question,” Sanderson says. In Star Wars, the question is whether Luke will become a Jedi and defeat the Empire. In Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark, it’s whether Indy will find the Ark before the Nazis do.

This question should be clear by the end of the first act, driving the plot forward and giving readers a reason to stay invested. Major dramatic questions also help bring subplots and character arcs together, ensuring that every element of the story contributes to the central conflict.

The Three-Act Structure: Chasing a Climactic Ending

The three-act structure is a classic Hollywood framework, but Sanderson adapts it for novelists by emphasizing rising tension:

1. Act One: Introduce the status quo and the inciting incident.
2. Act Two: Escalate the conflict through failures, complications, and rising stakes.
3. Act Three: Deliver the climactic resolution and tie up loose ends.

Example: Star Wars

Let’s look at this through the lens of Star Wars one more time!

• Act One: Luke’s life on Tatooine is disrupted when he discovers the message from Princess Leia.
• Act Two: He joins the Rebellion, faces obstacles, and begins his training.
• Act Three: The final battle against the Death Star.

Sanderson emphasizes that Act Two should feel like a continuous buildup, with every scene increasing the stakes. The midpoint twist—such as discovering Alderaan’s destruction—should be a pivotal shift. The goal is to make the climax feel inevitable and surprising.

Final Thoughts: Be a Chef, Not a Cook

Sanderson closes the lecture with his signature advice: “I want you to be chefs, not cooks.” Understand the principles behind the structures you use, but don’t be afraid to adapt or break them when necessary. Practice, experiment, and find what works for you. Plot frameworks exist to support your story, not constrain it!

You should always study a variety of stories to better grasp the concepts you like and the ones you don’t. “Read widely, analyze movies, and study different storytelling traditions,” Sanderson says. “You never know which technique will unlock the next breakthrough in your writing.” 

Stay tuned for the next lecture, where we’ll dive deeper into character development and how to make your protagonists unforgettable.