It’s been a beat since the 30-Day Free Author Challenge, and I don’t want your momentum to slip. You WILL write that book this year!

So I’ve created something to help.

How you’re feeling now

First, whether you finished all 30 days, half of them, or you’re still working your way through at your own pace: well done.

You’ve showed up for your book. That matters more than perfect completion ever will.

That challenge was intentionally intense. It was built as a year-opening ignition point and a way to make this the year you prepare for and write your book. I won’t be running another 30-day version like that again. It was a special one.

But since then, I’ve been thinking about everyone who still wants support, structure, and momentum…but who perhaps didn’t feel that the Academy was the right fit for now.

So I built something for you.

Introducing: Weekly Writing Fuel

Weekly Writing Fuel is designed to keep your creative fire burning without overwhelm.

It works like the challenge, but it’s weekly instead of daily.

Each week you’ll receive:

1. A focused video lesson on one essential aspect of book craft (dialogue, tension, structure, trials and tests, narrative distance, and more)

2. Practical exercises you can apply directly to your draft

3. Guided writing prompts for the week ahead

4. Craft reflections: the mindset and psychology of being a working writer

5. Three curated book recommendations tied to that week’s skill:
   – one classic
   – one modern masterwork
   – one current, in-the-zeitgeist title

6. Creative cross-training exercises to keep your imagination active (so the tap doesn’t run dry)

7. A comment space where you can ask questions and get some feedback from me

In other words: steady fuel, steady heat, steady forward motion.

Because what stops most books isn’t lack of talent; it’s loss of momentum.

Writers get excited, write hard for a few weeks, then the energy fades. Doubt creeps in. Life gets loud. The draft cools.

This is here to prevent that.

Low cost, high commitment

The price is intentionally small:

£7 per month (about the cost of one fancy coffee) for four lessons a month.

Or £70 for the full year (which gives you two months free).

I tried to price it even lower, but the platform wouldn’t allow it. And in truth, a small investment helps: When you put even a little money down, you’re more likely to show up and use what you receive. A bit of skin in the game changes behaviour.

Get Weekly Writing Fuel

This is your bridge year

If the full Academy wasn’t the right fit right now—timing, budget, bandwidth—Weekly Writing Fuel gives you a way to stay in motion.

You’re not dropped back to zero.
You’re not waiting months for another free challenge.
You’re not trying to do it alone.

You get weekly guidance, craft sharpening, and steps forward steps.

You step into the lifestyle and rhythm of an author.

If you want 2026 to be the year you actually finish your book—not just think about it—this is your support structure.

Click the button below to preview the first Weekly Writing Fuel issue and subscribe:

Check out Weekly Writing Fuel

I’d love to keep showing up for you each week and to keep cheering you all the way to a finished draft.

Xx Shelly

It’s the last day of the challenge, and this is a big threshold moment.

You committed to 30 days of work on your book. You showed up. You shifted your identity into being a writer.

You haven’t just tried writing this month.

You’ve been doing it. You’ve been working like an author works.

And I know (because so many of you told me, and because I’ve lived it too) that this isn’t always what happens. People sign up for courses or they join challenges…and then life gets busy. Momentum fades. And they don’t make it to the end.

But this time you did.

Even if you fell behind and you’re reading this after the 31st of January (even if you’re stepping into Day 30 in February) you are still here.

You still made it through!

So please take a moment today to celebrate yourself properly. You now have a full blueprint of your book.

And now we’re going to talk about how you take that blueprint and get your book written in 2026 (even if you’re going it alone).

Closing live Q&A tonight (8pm UK time)

Don’t forget we have our closing live Q&A tonight at 8pm UK time.

Bring your final questions about your blueprint, your plot, your structure, your next steps, the messy first draft, all of it.

There’s a button below to submit questions in advance. Even if you can attend live, sending your question beforehand really helps me shape the hour so it’s useful, focused, and supportive for everyone.

Submit questions for the live Q&A

Let’s keep in touch

If the Academy isn’t right for you right now, I’d still encourage you to stay on this mailing list. I’ll send things through occasionally, and you’ll be the first to know when the next free author challenge is happening.

Going forward, there will be a new free challenge every quarter. Most of them will be shorter than this one (this 30-day version was intentionally intense for the beginning of the year), but each will be focused on the same mission: helping you step into the identity of an author and build real momentum.

Click the button below to join the Story Professor newsletter. That’s where I’ll announce upcoming challenges, free workshops, and anything important happening inside the Academy. I won’t bombard your inbox. I only write when it matters.

Subscribe to the free newsletter

Your blueprint is the beginning

At the end of this month, you have something priceless:

A clear idea of your book and a blueprint that takes you from the Ordinary World all the way through to the resurrection. That’s a full Hero’s Journey arc and a real sense of direction.

But there’s something even more important than the blueprint:

You now have proof that you can show up consistently.

And that is what writes books.

You are no longer someone who “wants to write a book.”

You are someone who has begun writing a book.

Hold on to that.

How to write your book in 2026 (even if you’re doing it on your own)

Here’s the key message I want you to take forward:

Writing a book is not about intensity.

This month has been intense, but the work of finishing a book is about returning to the project again and again. It’s about rhythm, cadence, and sustainability.

So let’s reduce the overwhelm. Here are 3 anchor points you can use for the rest of the year:

Anchor 1: choose a writing rhythm you can actually sustain

Decide:

• How many days per week are you writing?

• What time of day?

• What’s your goal each session: a time goal or a word count?

And then put it in your diary.

Please don’t overcommit. If three days a week is too much, choose one. One day a week, done consistently, is far more powerful than a perfect plan you abandon in two weeks.

If you do more than your minimum, that’s a bonus. The win is keeping the promise.

Anchor 2: choose your next milestone

What is the next finish line you’re moving towards?

Is it:

• turning your blueprint into a full outline?

• drafting a messy first draft from beginning to end?

• writing one chapter at a time?

• finishing Act One first?

My suggestion (and what we do inside the Academy) is simple:

Take your blueprint and write your messy first draft from the Ordinary World all the way through to the end without stopping to perfect it.

Throw the clay on the wheel. Give yourself something to shape.

Anchor 3: create accountability

Books don’t get written in isolation nearly as easily as we pretend they do.

Choose your accountability:

• a writing buddy

• a weekly check-in with a friend

• a writing community

• a structured environment (like the Academy)

The point is that someone else knows you’re doing this, and you’re not carrying the whole weight alone.

A reframe for the first draft

The first draft can feel vulnerable and scary. Getting the ideas out of your head and onto the page is an act of courage.

But remember:

The first draft is about discovery.

Even with your blueprint, you are going to learn things as you write. You will want to adjust scenes, reorder moments, change a threshold, deepen a character, strengthen a turning point.

Be flexible. Don’t be rigid with your blueprint. Let it evolve with you.

And remember this:

Clarity comes from writing…it does not come before the writing.

If you don’t know what to write, sit down and write anyway. Drop yourself into a scene that feels less intimidating. Turn on the tap.

Sometimes it will run dry.
Sometimes it will pour.
But it will never turn on by itself.

And every finished book was once an unfinished book.

There is no perfect book. There is only a good book that has been finished.

The author identity you’re stepping into

There are three things I want you to hold on to:

Authors are people who return to the page.
Authors build trust with themselves.
Authors finish imperfect work.

The magic is not in intensity. It’s in returning.

Let me support you through the next stage

I hope this isn’t our final day together.

If you’ve enjoyed the last 30 days, if it’s been helpful, if you want structure and support as you write your book, I would love for you to join me inside the Academy.

Inside the Academy, you won’t be left to figure it out alone.

We have:

• an ongoing structure and weekly cadence

• clear milestones to hit (so you always know what you’re doing next)

• feedback mechanisms with touch points with me at least three times a week

• guidance through drafting (from blueprint → draft one → draft two)

• community and accountability (a thriving, creative virtual campus where you can live inside that author identity)

We do deep work on story, structure, and craft. We run masterclasses on dialogue, tension, the writing process, book proposals, and querying…and we take the long view: not just writing the book, but preparing it for the world when it’s ready.

(Watch this tour of what it’s like inside!)

Peek inside

The early bird founder’s rate for challenge participants is available through the 4th of February.

After that, the rate increases (there will still be a founder’s rate for a short window after, but it will be higher). The lowest rate will not be offered again, and if you join now, you’re locked into that price for as long as you remain a member.

(And while you can cancel any time with no problem, that rate won’t be offered again…sorry!)

If you’re considering it, put the dates in your diary so you don’t miss them.

And if you have questions, just email me; I’m happy to answer them, and I won’t try to sell you. I only want this for you if it’s right for you.

Join the Academy

Today’s two tasks (and yes, they’re a little selfish)

You don’t have a big “blueprint” task today. Today is about marking the threshold.

Task 1: Like this post.
That’s your way of celebrating yourself, of showing the world that you’ve finished, and it lets me acknowledge your accomplishment.

Task 2: Leave a comment with what you got out of this challenge.
A little testimonial, a takeaway, a moment that mattered…anything. It helps me understand what worked best for you so I can do more of that in the future.

Reflection question

What kind of author do you want to become by this time next year, and what daily or weekly promise will you make to that version of yourself?

Write it in the comments if you want. I’d love to see it, and who knows, maybe I’ll check in on you in a year and ask, “Did you get there?”

One last time: I’m very proud of you, and I hope you’re proud of yourself.

Give yourself permission this year to follow through on this goal you’ve likely carried for a long time.

And if you don’t join the Academy—please, please, please—message me in a year and tell me that you finished your book. That would make my life.

Thank you for trusting me for these 30 days. I have adored getting to know you and your stories. It’s been the most fun challenge, and I genuinely feel like I’ve made friends.

I hope to see you tonight on the live Q&A at 8pm UK time.

With so much pride,
Shelly

We have today and tomorrow left together, and before we do anything else, I want you to take a breath and recognise what you’ve done.

Over the past 30 days, you’ve built the foundations of a book. You’ve created the skeleton—the spine and structure that will hold everything else together. Most people never get this far. You did it in a month, and that’s extraordinary.

I’m proud of you. And it has been an honour to spend this time with you and your stories.

Today, we’re beginning to look at the next layer: the deeper threads running through your book: your themes.

A quick note on feedback and replies

Over the last couple of days, I was a bit slower than usual responding to comments and questions. A few unexpected appointments pulled me away for longer than I had planned, and it turned into a bit of a comedy of errors behind the scenes.

If I missed anything you shared, it wasn’t intentional. Please do send me an email so we can make sure you end this challenge feeling supported and seen. I want you to leave these 30 days knowing your work mattered and was witnessed.

Tomorrow’s closing live Q&A

Tomorrow evening at 8pm UK time we’ll gather for our closing live Q&A.

This will be your chance to ask final questions about your book, your blueprint, and what comes next. I’ll also be talking about how to continue writing your book for the rest of the year if you decide not to join the Academy: practical guidance, momentum, and realistic expectations.

If you can’t attend live, you can submit a question in advance using the button below. That actually helps me give you a more thoughtful, thorough answer because I have time to sit with it beforehand.

Submit a Question

From foundations to design

Over this past month, you’ve been working in what I call Story Foundations. You’ve built the skeleton of your story: the structure that gives it coherence and strength.

The next stage is Story Design.

This is where we begin layering in the deeper elements that give your book richness and resonance: themes, subplots, character arcs, and how these threads weave together.

If foundations are the skeleton, story design is the muscles and ligaments that allow movement. Later comes polish—the surface details that refine and elevate the work. But none of that can exist without the structure you’ve already created.

And that is exactly why this month mattered so much.

So today, let’s touch a bit of design so that you have a sense of how to work on that.

We’re going to pull out your themes.

Theme is already present

Here’s the most important thing to know today: your themes are already there.

Theme is not something you force onto a story; it’s what keeps returning. It’s the question your narrative circles, the tension your character keeps encountering, the idea your book is quietly trying to understand.

As you’ve been building your blueprint, patterns have likely emerged:

• challenges that repeat

• lessons that resurface

• tensions that refuse to disappear

Those repetitions are meaningful. They reveal what your book cares about.

Theme might show up as resilience, curiosity, belonging, identity, forgiveness, control, transformation, or something deeply personal and specific to your experience. Often, it connects to something you yourself have grappled with, because we tend to write the questions we are living.

Trust your writer instinct

This is where your writer instinct comes in—the instinct we’ve been strengthening over these 30 days.

Rather than forcing an answer, step back and observe:

• What keeps coming up?

• What is being tested again and again?

• What deeper idea is your story trying to understand?

Theme is less about declaring a message and more about noticing a pattern.

Today’s task

Take out your blueprint and read it from beginning to end.

Move slowly through each section: ordinary world, call to adventure, trials, transformation.

As you read, notice:

• which ideas repeat

• which tensions return

• which questions surface more than once

Then identify one main theme. If another clearly emerges, you may note a second, but one is enough.

If clarity doesn’t come immediately, step away for a while. Do something repetitive and ordinary. Let your mind rest, and trust that the answer will surface.

When your theme comes out, post it in the comments below.

Leave a comment

Reflection question

Here’s the question to discuss in the chat thread:

What does my book seem to care about, even when I’m not trying to make it care?

Your subconscious often knows the heart of your story before your conscious mind does. Let yourself be curious about what reveals itself.

Your invitation to continue inside the Academy

I’ve mentioned the Academy here and there over the past few weeks, but I realised I hadn’t formally invited you…so this is me doing that now.

If you’ve enjoyed these 30 days—if you’ve felt momentum building, if you want continued structure, feedback, and accountability as you write your book—I would love to welcome you inside the Academy.

Inside, we move into Level Two: Story Design, where you’ll deepen your themes, develop subplots, and strengthen character arcs….all as you write the book with guidance and support.

There are live classes, regular Q&A sessions, co-working spaces for focused writing time, and opportunities for direct feedback on your work.

You’ll also have multiple ways each week to connect with me, ask questions, get feedback, and keep your progress moving.

Every element is designed around two principles: learning and doing. The goal is not just to understand story, but to help you finish your book well and with confidence.

Right now, there is a founder’s rate available until midnight on the 4th.

This is the lowest rate the Academy will ever be offered at, and anyone joining from this challenge can lock in that price for as long as they remain a member. After that date, the rate increases.

If your instinct is telling you this is the right next step, I would love to continue working with you and supporting your story.

Join the Academy

I’ll see you tomorrow for our final day together…and for out live Q&A!

Xx Shelly

I’m Sporty Shelly today. 🎽

We only have three days left.

And over these final days, my job is to make sure you don’t walk away from this challenge with a beautifully plotted story and a big question mark hanging over it: okay… but what do I actually do now?

I don’t want you leaving here with structure and no momentum.

I want you prepared to keep going on your own.

I’ve said this a lot by now, but it matters enough to repeat: writing a book is not about talent or knowing what you’re doing or even plotting it perfectly.

It’s about doing it.

The people who finish books—the people who get published, who build careers—are the ones who sit down consistently, protect their writing time, and step into the identity of a writer. They make it a practice, and they make it happen.

That’s what we work on inside the Academy, and that’s what these final days of the challenge are designed to support.

The sticky spot most writers get stuck in

Today we’re talking about a place where a lot of writers panic, stall, or give up: the in-between moments.

When you sit down to write your first full draft—what I often call a zero draft—you’re taking the structure you’ve built here and writing straight through it. Beginning to end. Messy. Imperfect. Incomplete.

This is not a freewrite, but it is rough. You’re not stopping every few pages to polish. You’re not going back to make chapters perfect before moving on. You’re moving forward.

And here’s where people get stuck:

They’ve planned the big scenes.
They know the mentor moment.
They know the trials.
They know the ordeal.

But when they sit down to write, they think: I feel like I’m missing something. There are gaps. I don’t know how to connect these scenes.

That fear often triggers perfectionism: if I can’t write a good first draft, what’s the point?

So I want you to hear two important things.

First: it is completely normal—and completely fine—for your first draft to be missing a lot. Most writers leave out huge amounts because the story feels obvious to them. The context is already in your head.

That’s why many first drafts come in around 40–50k words, even though a novel is closer to 90k. The next draft is where we fill, expand, clarify, and strengthen.

Second: those “missing” bits are often not big, dramatic scenes.

They’re like connective tissue.

What we’re practising today

Today is about getting comfortable writing those in-between moments without pressure, without overthinking, and without trying to make them impressive.

Here’s what I want you to do:

Pick 1 beat in your story that you know really well. One scene that feels clear and solid in your mind:

• the threshold

• meeting the mentor

• a test or trial

• any moment you feel confident about

Then choose 1 direction:

• write what happens just before that scene
  or

• write what happens just after that scene

Set a timer for 20 minutes and write it.

This is a freewrite, so don’t edit ot polish. Don’t worry if it feels boring or quiet. These moments often are, and they matter more than we think.

Think of it as a ligament, not the muscle. It’s what lets the story move.

What to share

In the comments, tell me:

• which beat you chose

• whether you wrote before or after it

• anything that surprised you while writing it

  

Reflection question

Where does your story actually start to move once you stop aiming for the “important” scenes?

Have fun with this one. It can feel strange at first because we’re trained to chase the flashy moments, but this is the work that gets books finished.

Tomorrow and the day after, we’ll zoom out and talk about how you carry this forward over the rest of the year.

I’ll see you then.

Xx Shelly

Good morning, and welcome to Day 27.

We only have three days left after today, and my goal for this final stretch is simple:
to leave you with enough clarity, momentum, and trust in yourself to actually go and write this book.

I know I said at the beginning of the challenge that I’d be inviting you into the Academy at the end, and I am. You’ve seen glimpses of it, and yesterday I shared a walkthrough so you could see how it works.

But I also know that the Academy won’t be right for everyone. Timing, finances, capacity…there are a bunch of good reasons why now might not be your moment.

So the next few days are about making sure that whether you join the Academy or not, you understand what comes next in the story and how to move forward on your own.

The Hero’s Journey is a circle

Today we’re looking at the final step of the Hero’s Journey—the one we haven’t fully unpacked yet—and how it connects back to the beginning.

I’ve included a visual of the journey below so you can see it as a circle.

This structure mirrors how human change actually works.

We don’t transform once and stay finished forever. We move through cycles of disruption, resistance, growth, collapse, and renewal again and again. If a lesson hasn’t quite landed, life tends to send us back around the loop.

That’s why this structure shows up across cultures, centuries, and myth traditions.

It was Joseph Campbell—an anthropologist, folklorist, and literary scholar—who studied myths and stories from around the world and noticed that they all followed this same underlying pattern, regardless of geography or contact with other cultures.

It resonates because it’s human.

A quick recap of the full journey

You’ve already done the hard part, but let’s quickly orient ourselves.

1. Ordinary world: the Hero’s starting point, where a core flaw keeps them safe but stuck

2. Call to adventure: something destabilises that world

3. Refusal of the call: avoidance, resistance, denial

4. Meeting the mentor: a guide nudges them forward

5. Crossing the threshold: commitment, even if reluctant

6. Tests, allies, enemies: the belief is stress-tested

7. The approach: mounting failure, pressure closing in

8. The ordeal: catastrophic failure; the belief breaks

9. The reward: sometimes a truth, sometimes clarity, sometimes hope

10. The road back: being pulled forward despite exhaustion

11. The resurrection: the Hero acts from need, not want

12. Return with the elixir: the Hero returns changed

You’ve plotted through the resurrection because that’s the end of the transformation.

What comes next is less about structure and more about meaning.

The return with the elixir

The return with the elixir is where the Hero comes back to the world they started in, but nothing is the same.

They don’t return to restore the old world; they return because it can never be what it was again.

The elixir is not necessarily a physical object. It can be:

• a new belief

• a new boundary

• a new way of relating

• a truth that can now be shared

• sometimes, yes, a literal thing that helps others

What matters is that it’s what the Hero needed, not what they wanted…and that it now has value beyond just them.

The Ordinary World has changed because the Hero has changed.

In Finding Nemo, the reef hasn’t transformed, but Marlin has.
In other stories, the entire community is altered by the journey.

Either way, the cycle closes…and quietly begins again.

Why I don’t want you to plot this part

I don’t want you to plan the ending in detail.

Endings work best when they’re discovered through writing rather than decided in advance.

Once you’ve written through the transformation, you will know things about your story that you cannot know right now, and forcing decisions too early is how writers get stuck.

Today’s task

In the comments, answer this:

What is the elixir your Hero brings back?

Not how it plays out or how you’ll write it. Just name the thing.

Is it a belief?
A truth?
A skill?
A way of being that others can now access?

Keep it simple.

Question for reflection

I’ll put this in the reflection thread, but here it is:

What part of your ending feels like it needs to be discovered through writing, rather than decided in advance…and why?

Sit with that because you’ve been working on your writer instincts.

Tomorrow, we’ll shift into the final stretch: what you do next, how you carry this forward, and how to keep writing once the challenge ends.

I’ll see you then.

Xx Shelly

A few of you have already joined the Academy (early!), and a few others have emailed asking for more info. I offered to record a tour, and they all said: yes, please.

So I’ve recorded a little sneak peek of the new Academy platform. This will give you a feel of life inside the Academy as well as what it’s like to have the level of bespoke-ness on the Founders tier.

As always, you’re welcome to email with questions!

And here’s the link to learn more:

Learn about the Academy

Yesterday you wrote your first little bit of actual draft work, and I’m genuinely excited about it.

Up until now, we’ve been plotting your story, which is important, especially if this is your first time writing a book. The planning makes the first draft less chaotic.

But: we have to get you over the hump from plotter to writer.

Because a first draft is still meant to be messy. It’s clay; you cannot shape anything if you don’t have material on the wheel.

And I heard that loud and clear in yesterday’s reflection: planning often feels easier than writing, because planning feels productive. And sometimes it is productive…until it becomes a loop. At some point you stop making progress and you start spinning.

So for these last few days, my job is to get your writing momentum going.

Two types of writers (and why we’re doing both)

There are two broad types of writers:

Plotters: who do structural work first, then draft from a plan.
Exploratory writers: who start with a character or scenario and write to discover the story.

Neither is “better.” Most writers end up doing a blend.

That’s part of why our blueprint grid ends at resurrection: the transformation is the heart of the story. After that, there are a few steps in the broader Hero’s journey—and tomorrow I’ll walk you through them—but I don’t want you planning those beats in the grid.

I want you to write your way into them once you’ve drafted through the transformation, because your ending will be stronger when it grows out of what you’ve actually written.

What we’re doing today: the mirror scene

Yesterday you wrote your resurrection moment—the moment your hero can finally do the thing they could not do at the beginning.

Today we’re going backwards.

You’re going back to the Ordinary World and writing the opposite: the moment when they couldn’t do that thing.

Why?

Because this is how you create a clean mirror and a satisfying emotional “click” for the reader. It makes the transformation visible on the page.

And also: your story has evolved over the last three weeks. Many of you have discovered that what you thought the flaw was at the beginning has shifted as you’ve built the journey. Writing backwards helps you update the start so it matches the story you’re actually telling now.

This is the same principle I used to teach in essay-writing: often you don’t truly know your thesis until you’ve written the paper. Then you can go back and state it clearly. Writing doesn’t have to happen in chronological order. You’re allowed to build meaning retroactively.

Examples

The Matrix

• Resurrection: Neo stops the bullets.

• Mirror scene: Morpheus takes him into the training simulation and Neo cannot dodge bullets.

The Princess Diaries

• Resurrection: Mia stands up and gives the speech.

• Mirror scene: early on, she can’t speak up / can’t hold herself in public / can’t handle the pressure of being seen.

You can do this with almost any story you love: what’s the thing they cannot do at the beginning…and what’s the moment at the end where they finally can?

Your task today: reverse it

Set a timer for 20 minutes.

Write the moment in the Ordinary World (or right at the edge of leaving it) where your Hero cannot do the thing you wrote yesterday.

Same rules as yesterday:

• no editing

• no fixing typos

• no rereading

• just keep moving forward for the full 20 minutes

And remember: this is your Hero before the transformation. The flaw is fully in control. They haven’t learned anything yet.

What to post in the comments

In the comments, tell me:

1. did you find the mirroring moment?

2. how many words did you get in 20 minutes?

(And tell me if the Ordinary World version changed from what you originally planned, tell me that too; that’s useful information.)

Leave a comment

Reflection question

Now that you’ve written it backwards:

Has the beginning of your story changed from what you thought it was going to be, now that you’ve built the rest of the journey?

Academy note (because a few of you have asked)

Some of you have already started joining the Academy early, which is wildly exciting.

Because we’re still getting the new platform fully ironed out before the term begins (the live portion kicks off in the second week of February), I’m making sure early joiners get value immediately.

So: for every week you join before the term starts, I’m giving you a 1:1 call.

I had one today and it was so fun; we did a full hour on her book, her plan, and her next steps, and we booked her next session for next week.

If you want that extra personalised time with me before the semester begins, you’re welcome to jump in now. Just know that the platform is still being finished behind the scenes, which is why I’m adding those calls in.

Learn about the Academy

Alright.

Have fun writing, and I’ll see you tomorrow for the final beats (so you know what’s coming, without getting stuck plotting them).

Xx Shelly

I hope you had a really great weekend. I saw that a lot of you used it to catch up, and it honestly made me so happy. I started getting comments and emails from people I hadn’t seen in a while.

And if you’re one of the people who fell a few days behind and still chose to come back: Congratulations.

That takes real fortitude. You’ve had a moment where the brain wants to say, “I failed, so what’s the point?”…and you overrode that voice.

I’m going to say it again because I want it stuck in your brains: this is what makes an author. Not being clever or knowing exactly what you’re doing, but being stubborn enough to keep going.

If you’re watching Day 25 and you’re actually on Day 20, or Day 14, or you’re binging the whole thing later on: more power to you. Keep going. You can still email me as you catch up. I may not reply as fast as I did during the live window because I’ll be full steam inside the Academy with the new semester, but I will support you as much as I can.

Now, a couple quick things to clear up before we get into today’s lesson.

A clarification from a recent reflection thread

We had a reflection question a few days ago about honesty:

If your Hero went back to the ordinary world after the ordeal, would the story be honest?

The answer is actually no.

(It was a bit of a trick question, but it’s important to think about.)

By the time they’ve been through the ordeal, they are not the same person. They’ve seen too much. Something has broken and something has changed. If they tried to go back and live as if nothing happened, it wouldn’t be honest, because it would deny the transformation.

That’s the point I wanted your author brain to noodle on. So take another think about that and ensure that your Hero really has changed throughout your story.

Why your blueprint ends at resurrection

You may have noticed something in your blueprint grid: resurrection is the final column.

If you’ve done any outside research, you’ve probably seen that the Hero’s Journey continues beyond that. There are steps after resurrection.

But there’s a reason I don’t have you plot those last steps in the blueprint.

Because this is where people get stuck.

A lot of writers get addicted to plotting. They plan and plan and plan…and the planning starts to feel like progress, but it’s actually a safer substitute for writing.

Perfectionism wears a very convincing costume.

We will address the last steps, but I don’t want you to plot them. I’ve found that the best way to work with them is to plot to the resurrection, then to start writing the story from the beginning.

After the resurrection, just keep writing instead of plotting…because after you’ve actually written the rest of the book, this part might change. It’s fluid, because you learn things about your story as you write it.

So, instead of plotting out those last steps, we’re starting—from today—to get you over the hurdle of plotting forever…and into the headspace of a productive writer.

We’re going to bring together all of the work that you’ve done, iron out the wrinkles, and do some exercises designed to get you writing your book and building momentum to get your first draft finished.

And that brings us to today.

The “reward”

One of you clocked something important: we didn’t formally fill out “reward.”

That was on purpose.

The reward works so closely with the ordeal that it often lives inside it—or immediately after it—and it can look very different depending on your genre.

Sometimes it’s an actual reward (they get something they thought they wanted… briefly).

Sometimes it’s clarity (a veil lifts, a truth lands, a realisation snaps into focus).

Sometimes it’s nothing but the smallest flicker of direction after devastation.

So today, just hold this gently in your mind: after the ordeal, is there a moment of clarity or consequence that pushes them forward?

If yes, you have a reward. If not, that’s fine too.

Today’s shift: we stop polishing the plan and we start throwing clay

Here’s the big reason today is different:

You are not meant to spend your life plotting a book. You are meant to write one.

I teach first drafts like this: you can’t shape clay if you don’t have any clay on the wheel.

A first draft is not elegant. It’s messy. It’s awkward. It’s uneven. But it exists, which means you can mould it later.

(My fellow PhD students and I always repeated to each other: a finished thesis is a good thesis; a perfect thesis never exists.)

So today, we throw clay.

Your task today

Set a timer for 20 minutes.

And write the scene where your Hero is finally able to do the thing they could not do at the beginning of the story.

This is your resurrection moment.

It’s the moment we can see the transformation. It’s a distinct action or behaviour.

Examples:

• The Princess Diaries: Mia stands up and gives the speech.

• Finding Nemo: Marlin does the thing he couldn’t do before; he trusts, he releases, he lets Nemo try.

• The Matrix: Neo stops the bullets.

Your job is not to write it perfectly. Your job is to write it without stopping.

A few rules:

• do not edit as you go

• do not backspace to fix typos

• keep moving forward for the full 20 minutes

• if you get stuck, write “I don’t know what happens next but…” and keep going

What to post in the comments

After your 20-minute freewrite, come back and tell me:

• how it went (great / messy / surprising / hard / energising: all valid)

• how many words you got in 20 minutes

And one important reminder: your Hero has already been transformed by this point. You’re writing a version of them after the journey has changed them.

Tomorrow we’re going to look at them before the transformation, and I want you to feel the contrast.

Reflection question

Here it is:

Where has planning felt safer than writing, and why?

If you don’t want to answer that publicly, write it in your journal, but do answer it. It’s going to unlock something.

Alright. Go write.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Xx Shelly

Change of scenery today. Welcome to my dining room! I wanted to mix things up a little bit because we’ve had the same background for everything.

And I’m keeping this one short. Straight into it.

Today we’re talking about the resurrection.

Yesterday, we moved through the road back—the moment after the ordeal where everything is awful, the Hero has failed miserably, and they decide to keep going anyway.

Today is different….it’s the big battle.

Today is the resurrection.

This is the moment where the Hero finally makes the transformation. After the failure of the ordeal, they are finally willing to change, and they are finally willing to act from the need rather than the want.

A key thing to remember

The resurrection is not the moment where the Hero suddenly gets a new skill out of nowhere.

It’s a 180-degree shift.

We talked about this at the beginning of the challenge: there is something the Hero cannot do at the start of the story because of fear, because of the flaw, because of how they’ve been protecting themselves in the ordinary world.

The resurrection is where they can finally do that thing.

Not because the world got easier, but because they changed.

Examples

The Matrix
Neo can’t dodge bullets at the beginning. He doesn’t believe. He doesn’t want the responsibility.

In the resurrection, he doesn’t just dodge bullets; he stops them. He controls the Matrix. That’s not a “new trick.” That’s what becomes possible when he finally accepts the need: belief and responsibility.

Finding Nemo
Marlon cannot give Nemo agency at the beginning. He grips tighter because fear is running the whole show.

In the resurrection, he backs up. He lets Nemo do it. “You can do it.” That is the opposite of who he was.

The Princess Diaries
Mia can’t speak publicly at the beginning. She’s terrified of being seen, terrified of getting it wrong.

In the resurrection, she gives the speech anyway. She shows up as the version of herself who can hold responsibility and visibility.

The Hunger Games
Katniss would not have been able to do what she does at the end at the beginning, because her default posture is survival through staying small, staying out of the Capitol’s game.

In the resurrection, she makes the poison berries choice. It’s a spectacle, yes…but it’s also agency. It’s her acting from a new centre.

This doesn’t have to be loud

Your resurrection does not need to be stopping bullets in mid-air or eating poison berries.

If you’re writing something emotionally-driven, the resurrection can be subtle, but it must still show us they’ve fundamentally changed.

It might look like:

• finally telling someone they love them (when they couldn’t at the start)

• not answering the phone when the toxic person calls (when they always would have)

• choosing honesty instead of self-protection

• choosing to be seen instead of disappearing

Small action. Massive meaning.

Your task today

This one has two things to put in the comments (they’re similar, but not identical; I want you to notice the difference):

1. What are they able to do in this moment that they were not able to do at the beginning?

2. How does your hero behave differently here than they would have at the start of the story?

Think about the subtlety.

• One is the action that proves the 180-degree shift.

• The other is the way of being they bring into the moment.

  

Question for reflection

Write this in the thread (or your journal, if you’re working privately):

If your hero acted the same way here that they did during the ordeal, what would happen?

During the ordeal, they acted from the want and lost. Something died. Everything collapsed.

If they repeated that same behaviour here, how would this ending break?

One more note

This is the end of your blueprint—this is the last box you’re filling out.

Tomorrow we’ll talk about what comes next. We still have a few days for refinement, tightening, and making sure the whole arc holds together.

And I might even start getting you writing at this point, rather than just planning. Be ready for that.

See you tomorrow,

Xx Shelly

And we have one week left: one week of live time for us to be properly going back and forth—emails, comments, chats, the whole thing. So I hope you’ll take advantage of it for one more week, especially if joining the Academy isn’t something you’re ready for right now (or something you want to do right now). That’s totally fine. You have no obligation to do that.

But if you do decide to stay on and join the Academy, just know this: I was really intentional about building it as a live space where you actually get help. There is nothing worse than joining a membership or buying a course and getting handed a pile of material with a “good luck!” and being left on your own. That’s not what I wanted to create.

The Academy is meant to be an energetic, vibrant virtual campus with study halls, live Q&A calls, office hours, and a way to book support when you need it.

If you want to take a look (no pressure, just information), the sales page is up on the website: Academyofstory.com

We’ve done a complete refresh, so if you peeked a couple of weeks ago and haven’t been back, go have a look. In the top menu there’s now a drop-down that says “Join the Academy”.

A couple of quick notes if you’re curious:

• I’m offering a really low rate for people who finish this challenge for a couple reasons: (1) you’ve already completed about half of the major course, so you shouldn’t have to pay for what you’ve already done; (2) we’ve switched platforms, and we’re still working out a couple of kinks as we move everything over.

• All the live stuff kicks off on 6 February.

• If you join before then, I’m going to throw in extra support to cover these two weeks, because I don’t want you paying for something and feeling like you’re waiting around.

One more thing before today’s lesson:

Several of you have sent me copies of your blueprints, and I’ve been able to give you feedback from that zoomed-out view of your story. That has been genuinely fun for me, and I hope it’s been fruitful for you. So again: take advantage of this last week we have together. If you want to email me your blueprint, do it. I’ll take a look.

Now, today…

Where we are

We’re talking today about the road back.

And I want to say this clearly again because it tripped a few people up yesterday:

The ordeal is not the final battle.

We are not at the final battle yet. That’s coming in a couple of days.

Yesterday, the ordeal was that big “everything is awful” moment; it’s the central crisis of the story. The Hero catastrophically fails because they refuse to change…and something dies. That might be literal death. It might be the death of someone they love. It might be a relationship, an identity, a belief, a false self…but something falls away.

So that’s where we are right now.

Everything is awful.

The Hero is broken because they’ve clung to the old belief for too long, and now it has finally cost them.

And yes: the story could end there. Failure is a resolution.

But we don’t end there.

Because the road back exists to answer that failure—to give the hero a chance to transform.

What the road back actually is

The road back is the movement after the failure.

The cost of the ordeal is still fresh. The world has not improved, and nothing has been fixed. The Hero is wounded, and the grief and fallout are real.

And the Hero moves forward anyway.

At this moment, the Hero often feels:

• I wasn’t good enough.

• I’ve proved my worst fear.

• I deserved this.

• What’s the point?

• I failed at what matters most.

And here’s the key problem:

The Hero is returning to the conflict without fully addressing the belief yet.

They’re not magically transformed, nor have they suddenly figured out the perfect way to win.

So the question becomes:

What gives the Hero permission to continue?

That’s the heart of the road back.

The Guide returns

This is often the moment where the guide returns, and I want you to notice the function here.

The mentor/guide exists to teach the hero, but at some point the Hero starts relying on the mentor too much. They’re outsourcing their courage and their clarity. They haven’t earned autonomy yet.

So the guide has to leave.

Sometimes they disappear. Sometimes they die. And sometimes they’re removed. But they leave so that the Hero can finish the journey on their own.

And when they return on the road back, they do not return with answers.

They return with something else:

• recognition

• mirroring

• forgiveness

• validation

• a reframing of the failure

• a reminder of what’s still true

• a moment that says: you are allowed to go on

Sometimes that’s a literal pep talk.
Sometimes it’s symbolic or a memory.
Sometimes it’s a letter, a diary entry, a moment of realisation, or a small act.

But the function is the same: Permission.

Examples

The Matrix
In the ordeal, Neo literally dies. The story could end right there.

Morpheus has already given Neo all he can give him: he has taught him, trained him, and he’s opened the door. But at this point, Neo cannot be carried.

So Trinity steps into the function of the guide and gives Neo permission through belief and love. That reframes death as not the end, and Neo stands back up.

That moment of standing back up—of choosing to re-enter the conflict rather than escape it—is the road back.

Finding Nemo
The ordeal is when Marlin believes Nemo is dead. His worst fear is confirmed: loving leads to loss.

Dory doesn’t fix anything. She doesn’t provide a clever solution. She simply stays. She keeps him moving, and her optimism contradicts his despair.

The road back is Marlin choosing to keep swimming anyway because he’s willing to move forward through the grief.

The Princess Diaries
Mia’s ordeal is humiliation and public failure. She wants to disappear. The flaw returns: don’t be seen, don’t risk, and don’t carry responsibility.

The Queen returns to affirm Mia’s worth and agency. That’s the permission.

And the road back is Mia choosing to attend the ball anyway. She doesn’t “win” yet. She simply shows up.

What the Hero is doing here

Structurally and emotionally, the road back is this:

The hero is still wrong about how to win, but they are no longer wrong about whether they want to try.

They move forward while still hurt.
They accept risk instead of avoiding it.
They stop protecting the old belief at all costs.

It can feel heavy or internal or quiet on the surface, but it’s a major shift in posture.

It’s commitment. And that sets us up for what comes next.

(Tomorrow we talk about the resurrection, which is the final confrontation, the final battle.)

Your task today

In the comments below, answer this question:

What gives your Hero permission to keep going after the ordeal?

It can be:

• a person

• a moment

• a memory

• a choice

• a realisation

• a symbolic act

One or two sentences is enough. I just want to know what it is.

Leave a comment

Question for reflection

I’ll put this in the thread:

If your Hero turned back here, would the story still be honest?

All right. Take your time with this one. This is a big internal shift, and it might take a minute to find what’s true for your hero.

I’ll see you tomorrow for Day 24, and we’ll step into the resurrection together.

Xx Shelly

Scheduling update

I’m really sorry for the change, but we’re going to reschedule the second livestream that was planned for today.

Instead, it will now take place on Saturday 31 January at 8pm (UK time).

The reason is that we had to say goodbye to our senior dog this week, and I’m not up for hosting a live session just yet. A few of you noticed something was off over the past couple of weeks and reached out to check in. That meant more than you know. Thank you.

What’s worked out well, though, is that 31 January is the final day of the challenge, which means we can use that live session as a true closing of this journey. I’ll open a form beforehand so you can submit questions in advance, and you’ll also be able to ask things live on the call.

Thank you for your understanding, and genuinely, thank you for being here. This space, and your engagement with your stories, has been a real support.

Time and energy

A couple of days ago, we opened a thread about struggle, and one thing that came up again and again was finding time.

That struggle never fully goes away. Even full-time, published authors wrestle with it. Writing asks for focus, vulnerability, and emotional presence, and those are not easy things to summon in a busy life.

One small experiment I want to offer you is this: Could you try getting up 30 minutes earlier for the next few days?

Just as a test it.

Inside the Academy, one of our challenges this year is called the hour earlier challenge, and it’s remarkable how much creative ground people reclaim simply by working before the rest of the world wakes up. If time has been your biggest obstacle, this is something to try before the challenge ends.

Where we are in the story

Now…the work.

Yesterday, we talked about the approach: that tightening moment where the hero senses something big is coming.

Today is the next step.

To reorient you:

• In the ordinary world, the Hero’s belief worked; it protected them.

• In the call and refusal, that belief was challenged.

• Through the mentor and threshold, it was questioned but kept.

• In the tests and trials, it was stress-tested.

• In the approach, the Hero braced for what was coming.

Now we arrive at the moment where that belief no longer bends.

What the ordeal really is

The ordeal is not another test. It’s not a challenge the Hero overcomes.

This is where the belief finally fails.

This is the central crisis of the story—the moment of maximum danger, loss, or exposure. The Hero acts from the same want or flawed belief that carried them this far, and this time it costs them everything.

They lose because they refuse to change.

This failure feels irreversible. Emotionally, psychologically, or literally, it is catastrophic.

That’s why the ordeal always leads into what’s often called the dark night of the soul.

This doesn’t have to be huge or loud

The ordeal doesn’t need to be long or explosive.

Sometimes it’s a single moment, like the apparent loss at the end of Dodgeball, where everything seems over for just long enough for it to land.

Sometimes it’s a montage of collapse, like Cher’s emotional low point in Clueless. (You know: the foundation and Celine Dion’s ‘All by Myself’.)

Sometimes it’s a realisation that cannot be unseen.

For memoir and narrative non-fiction writers especially, this can be:

• a confrontation

• a devastating truth

• a loss of identity

• the moment an illusion shatters

What matters is not spectacle, but irreversibility.

Death and power

At the ordeal, something dies.

That might be:

• a person

• a relationship

• a belief

• an identity

• the version of the Hero who thought they were enough as they were

This is also where the villain is at full strength. The temptation to stay the same is strongest, and the cost of change is highest. The villain almost wins…and sometimes wins briefly.

The aftermath should feel like shock, fallout, grief, and/or reckoning.

The ordeal does not fix anything; rather, it creates the conditions where change becomes unavoidable.

Your task today

I’m only asking you one question today.

In the comments, answer this:

What belief or person dies in your ordeal?

(Or, another way to put it: what version of your Hero dies here?)

I’ll open a reflection thread as well, and you’re welcome to talk there about struggle or about the ordeal itself. Naming difficulty reduces its grip—as Brené Brown reminds us, shame only survives in silence.

Thank you again for being here. Truly.

I’ll see you tomorrow for Day 23. And remember, our final live Q&A will be 31 January at 8pm (UK time).

Xx, Shelly

I hope yesterday went well—not just as a breather, but as practice in trusting your writer instincts. Because this challenge isn’t only about learning structure…it’s sneakily also about learning how to be and think like a writer.

A lot of what makes someone finish a book is not talent. It’s identity. It’s the stubborn willingness to keep showing up. Writing a book is a test of endurance, not a test of being clever.

Over the last few days we did something very intentional:

• we audited what was working and what wasn’t

• we realigned a couple sticky points

• we took a breather day to reset your grip and let your instinct come back online

That sequence (Days 18–20) is where fatigue usually hits hardest. It’s where people stop opening emails because they feel behind and start thinking, “What’s the point?”

So remember: you’re not too far behind. If you miss a couple days and come back, you’re doing it exactly the way real writers do it.

And if you want to compound yesterday’s “I’m still here” momentum: like this post again. Not for me (promise)….for your brain. It’s a quick win, and quick wins help you to keep going.

(It’s like adding ‘clean teeth’ or ‘drink morning tea’ to your to-do list just so that you have something you’ve already done (or will do anyway) to tick off. It gets your momentum going and builds self trust. That compounds to getting more done.

Side note: the blueprint grid

A couple of you have said you’re a bit confused about where things go in the blueprint and how to fill the grid out cleanly.

Totally fair: this is usually something I’d support with more live back-and-forth. In the Academy, we’d have at 3 weekly opportunities to chat live—in groups or 1:1—about your work.

So: I’m going to record a supplemental screen-share walkthrough showing you exactly how to fill the blueprint grid, and I’ll drop that into the email in the next couple of days. It won’t replace the main daily lesson; it’ll be added into the regular lesson as an extra.

If you’re already confident with the grid, you can skip it.

Today: we’re back in the story

Today we move into the next stage of the Hero’s journey: The approach to the innermost cave (aka: the approach).

Up to now, you’ve built the whole set-up:

• ordinary world

• disruption and resistance (call + refusal)

• meeting the mentor

• crossing the threshold

• tests, allies, and enemies

You’ve been stress-testing the Hero’s belief system. You’ve been watching the tug-of-war between want and need.

Now we hit a shift.

The approach is where the story tightens.

This isn’t the big battle yet. There are no fireworks and no resolution; it’s the moment where the Hero senses—consciously or not—that something serious is coming. The world starts closing in, and the cost of staying the same starts rising fast.

In other words: the Hero is heading toward the central ordeal, and they start preparing for it…while still believing they can get through it using the old tools.

They’re usually wrong.

Where you’ve seen this before

If you want a clean example of tests adding up, watch Finding Nemo. You can literally see the string of trials teaching Marlin something, bit by bit, until the failures start stacking.

And if you want one of the best examples of tension building in an “approach” sequence, watch Argo—the way the film tightens as they try to get to the plane is an A+ lesson in focused, escalating pressure.

How the approach fits into everything you’ve built

Here’s the logic from the beginning to now:

• ordinary world: who they were

• call + refusal: why change was resisted

• mentor: glimpses of another way to live or believe

• threshold: the commitment is made (even if they’re shaky)

• tests / allies / enemies: the old belief is stress-tested (but not broken yet)

• approach: everything converges—allies matter, enemies sharpen, tension devices become more focused, and the Hero braces for what’s coming

If you have a ticking clock or a looming consequence, this is where it starts feeling close enough to touch.

Your task today

I’m going to give you 7 questions.

If you want to answer all of them, gold star.

But your actual task is simple: pick 2 and answer them in the comments. (These are all about the moment after the tests and trials have gotten to be too much. They will have gone through 3-5 tests and/or trials here.)

Here are the 7:

1. Where is your Hero physically right now?
   What literal place are they in? What environment are they moving through?

2. What do they believe they’re preparing for?
   What do they think the next challenge is?

3. What plan, strategy, or emotional posture are they adopting?
   What “face” are they putting on? What story are they telling themselves?

4. Which ally matters most right now…and why?
   Who becomes essential at this stage?

5. What task do they think they understand?
   What are they confident about (even if they shouldn’t be)?

6. What risk are they missing?
   What danger, consequence, or cost are they underestimating?

7. How is their flaw still in control here?
   Where is the want still running the show?

You can bullet-point your answers. You can freewrite. You do not need polished prose. We’re getting the shape of it.

Why this matters

This stage sets you up for what comes next: moving from the approach into the ordeal, where things get very serious.

We’re going to drive the action of the story forward over the next few days, and then we’ll have time at the end to make sure everything is working together.

Reflection question

As you answer your two questions, keep this in mind:

What still needs to fall away for your Hero before they can face the “big boss” of this story?

I’ll open the thread (and if I forget, Clare and Penelope have offered to help…bless them). Either way, the questions will be here in the email so you’re not hunting for them.

Alright. Back into it.

I’m rooting for you, and I’ll see you tomorrow.

Xx Shelly

P.S. The Academy team has been hard at work over the last week refreshing the website. If you had a look before, you might want to take another gander. There’s info there about joining the Academy if you want to check it out…because I know that I’d be curious if I were in a free challenge and wonder, ‘okay, what’s this lady going to try to sell me?’ As always, you are under NO obligation to join. If you do the free challenge and then dip, no judgment here. But…I happen to think that a membership in the Academy (especially at the current rate) is amazing.

Academy of Story website

Today is your second (and final) breather day, and these days matter more than they might look on the surface. Because we’re resetting how you relate to the work (not actually stopping it).

By Day 20 of a long, fast-paced challenge like this, something very predictable happens: Fatigue sets in. Life reasserts itself, and work, responsibilities, January energy etc, all of it comes back online. Even people who are still watching the videos often stop commenting, or fall a few days behind, or start wondering whether it’s worth catching up.

That’s normal. It’s human….and it’s exactly why today exists.

First: a small but important action

Before anything else, I want you to like this post.

It’s not for me. Truly. This is for you, and I’ll tell you why:

There’s solid psychology behind this. When you’ve been pushing through something for 20 days and you’re starting to feel tired or behind, your brain needs evidence that you’re still in it. Even a small, concrete action—something you can tick off—creates a sense of momentum and completion.

Liking the post is a signal to your brain: I showed up. I did something. I’m still here.

Do that now, and let yourself register it as a win.

If you feel behind, read this carefully

We have 10 days left.

And at this point, many people start thinking things like:

• “I’m too far behind now.”

• “What’s the point of catching up?”

• “I should probably just stop.”

BUT…being behind does not mean that you’re out.

Several of you have emailed me saying you missed a few days and are catching up now. And I’m thrilled by this, because the fact that you’re still engaging—still thinking, still emailing, still watching—matters far more than being perfectly on schedule.

These videos will remain available through March. The live, real-time commenting phase will wrap up at the end of January as I move into the Academy launch and the next term, but that does not mean you can’t continue working through this at your own pace.

You’re allowed to take your time.

What today is actually about

Today is about writer psychology rather than strictly structure.

Last breather day, we talked about how the subconscious continues working when you step away from active problem-solving. That’s still happening.

Today, though, we’re focusing on something slightly different: trusting your writer instinct.

By now, you’ve watched a lot of these videos. Even if you haven’t done every task perfectly, you’ve been absorbing patterns, structure, and story logic. Your instinct is already stronger than it was on day one.

The problem is that when we grip too tightly—when we try to force the story to behave, or panic about getting it “right”—we drown that instinct out.

So today is about loosening that grip.

Today’s task: the mundane task (with a twist)

You’re doing a mundane task again today: something repetitive, low-effort, and solitary.

Examples:

• tidying your writing space or office

• going for a long walk

• doing the food shop

• an everything shower

• any task that lets your mind wander without distraction

A few important rules:

• no podcasts

• no audiobooks

• no conversations

• no actively thinking about your story

You’re letting your mind move on its own.

But…you’re working to notice something different this time.

How to work with your instinct today

If your story pops into your head while you’re doing this task, notice what kind of thought it is.

• If it’s a problem (“I need to figure this out”; “this isn’t working”; “I should fix this”), you say: Not today. And you let it go.

• If it’s a solution (“Oh — that’s how this works”; “I know what that needs to be”), then you pause, write it down in your notes app or a notebook, and let it go again.

Capture solutions and dismiss problems.

This is how you start trusting that your instinct knows the difference.

What to do after

After your mundane task, come back and tell me one thing in the comments:

• Did your story try to pull you into fixing mode?

• Or did a solution arrive on its own?

That’s all.

And if you’re behind and commenting on an earlier day, feel free to label it clearly (“this is for Day 5”, “this is for Day 15”). If I don’t reply, it means I genuinely haven’t seen it—Substack doesn’t always surface older comments—so emailing me with a quick summary is always welcome.

That said, I did spend some time yesterday going back through everything I could find that I hadn’t commented on. So…fingers crossed that I got to everyone!

One last thing

Falling behind doesn’t disqualify you.

Getting back up is the work.

That’s what makes someone a writer: not the perfect consistency, but the returning to the page again and again.

Take today as permission to breathe, reset, and stay in the game.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Xx Shelly

Yesterday was a lot. The video was longer, and the task was more cognitively demanding. It asked you to zoom out, assess what wasn’t working, and hold complexity without immediately fixing it. That’s hard work.

So consider today and tomorrow a bit of a gift.

As I said yesterday, you are moving through Level 1 of my Story Architect framework at an unusually fast pace. This stage—the Story Foundation—is normally spread out over months. You’re doing it in 30 days, which is intense. So if you’re a couple of days behind, catching up in batches, or watching things slightly out of sequence: you’re fine!

If you’re behind and want feedback, email me with the days you missed rather than commenting on older posts; Substack doesn’t always surface those notifications for me, and email is easier to track.

Before we move on, a quick thank you to Clare, who opened the chat thread yesterday when I forgot (again). Much appreciated.

The reason I was distracted is a good one: two of my writers hit major milestones this week. One has finished her second full draft, which, as I always say, is where the book really starts to become a book. The first draft is clay. The second draft is shaping. Another writer is submitting to her publisher today after completing the full revision cycle. It’s a good reminder of where this process leads if you stick with it.

Alright. Let’s get into today.

What today is for

Today is deliberately shorter and lighter than yesterday.

Yesterday was about identifying what felt out of alignment. Today is about choosing just two things and beginning to adjust them.

Not everything…just the two.

Today’s task

Go back to your blueprint grid.

Look at the things you flagged yesterday:

• things you noticed yourself, or

• things I confirmed for you in the comments as no longer quite working

From all of that, choose two boxes only.

Now do the following:

1. Highlight those two boxes (change the text colour, add a marker, make it visually obvious).

2. Ask yourself: what about this no longer aligns with the story as it exists now?

3. If your instinct immediately knows what needs to change, go ahead and rewrite the box.

4. If it doesn’t, don’t force it. Just leave the highlight there.

The highlight matters. It tells your brain, this is unresolved, and that’s enough for now.

You are not doing a full rewrite today or solving the entire problem. All you need to do is name it and plant it as a seed in your brain.

This works because you are training your author brain—the part of you that holds questions open and lets solutions form over time, rather than demanding instant answers.

Why this matters

For most of you, this is your first time building a story deliberately, using a clear structural framework. That means realignment is an important part of the work.

By limiting this to two boxes, you:

• avoid overwhelm

• avoid tearing down the whole structure

• give your subconscious something concrete to work on overnight

Tomorrow is the breather day…so plant that seed!

In the comments

I forgot to say this in the video! So I hope that you’ve read this far.

Maybe this is a test…??

In the comments below, tell me which two boxes you’ve highlighted. And…if you’re brave…tell me if your instinct kicked in and nudged a specific change.

Reflection question

After working on those two boxes:

What feels clearer today than it did yesterday?

And if you didn’t answer yesterday’s reflection question, I still recommend thinking about it privately; it’s a good one for developing long-term writing instinct.

Tomorrow I’ll be back with a short video before the breather day…with a bit of philosophical author advice, and guidance on how to actually use that pause well.

You’ve earned this slower stretch! Remember that 19 intense days is no small thing!

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Xx Shelly

We’re on Day 18.

Today is a bit of a pause; we’re taking a moment to acknowledge how much work you’ve already done. You’ve moved quickly, and you’ve made a lot of decisions. You’ve been thinking hard, often at speed, often on top of real life.

That’s exactly why today (and, in a slightly different way, tomorrow) is about alignment and calibration.

You’ll remember that on Day 20 we’re taking another proper breather day—time away from the book, doing something mundane, letting your brain work quietly in the background.

To make that rest actually useful, we need to prepare for it now by making sure the foundations you’ve laid are solid and working together.

So for the next two days, we’re stepping back from building and shifting into auditing.

What today is NOT

Today is not a day to fix anything.
So don’t do any rewriting, overhauling, or second-guessing yourself into a spiral.

Today is simply about looking.

Think of this as a story audit: a chance to zoom out, look at the whole shape of what you’ve built so far, and notice where things feel aligned and where they don’t quite sit right anymore.

Eighteen days in, especially if you’ve been moving fast or catching up in batches, it’s very easy for the early decisions to blur. This is where we slow the process just enough to regain clarity.

A quick context note

Before we get into the task, I want to share something briefly.

As part of running this challenge, I’ve been finalising a new version of the Academy, rebuilding it as a proper virtual campus, something live, active, and much closer to the way I’ve always wanted it to work.

And as I’ve been doing that, I’ve been thinking a lot about you and about what this challenge actually represents.

What you’re doing right now is essentially the first half of my signature framework, Story Architect.

The work you’re doing in this challenge is the Story Foundation. Inside the Academy, the next phase is Story Design. And once both are complete, the work shifts into drafting, writing, and finishing the book.

That’s why this pause matters.

If you were doing this part of Story Architect in the Academy, it wouldn’t be moving so quickly, and the next level relies on a solid foundation.

(PS: I don’t mean this to be a sales pitch…just a way to tell you that you’re doing a lot of important work that usually takes students a couple of month. But…if you do decide to join the Academy, you’ll be lightyears ahead!)

Your blueprint grid

Today we’re working entirely with your blueprint grid.

If you’ve been following along as intended, each task in this challenge has been feeding into a specific square in that grid.

Today’s job is to make sure:

• everything you’ve worked on actually is in the grid

• the pieces are talking to each other

• the internal journey and the external events are aligned

You should have up to ‘Tests, Allies, and Enemies’ filled in at this point, even if only with bullet points or short notes.

Some of you will be using the POV and Time sections as well…but you don’t need to.

And we’re only going down as far at the Tension row. The rest are part of Level 2: Story Design.

What to look for in the character arc row

Up until now, we’ve been talking a lot about want vs need and the internal journey, but not always explicitly naming where that lives in the grid. Today, I want you to look directly at that row.

Here’s what you should be checking for at each stage:

• Ordinary World
  This is your Hero’s emotional baseline.
  Who are they before anything is challenged?
  What belief or strategy is currently “working” for them?

• Call to Adventure
  This is the first crack.
  Something disrupts the belief system.
  They don’t change yet, but they can’t stay fully comfortable.

• Refusal of the Call
  This is where they cling to the want.
  The flawed belief is still running the show.
  The resistance is emotional, logical, or behavioural.

• Meeting the Mentor
  An alternative way of thinking or being is introduced.
  The Hero may understand it intellectually, but not embody it yet.

• Crossing the Threshold
  The first behavioural commitment happens here.
  Even if the Hero doesn’t realise it, they act in a way that nudges them toward the need.

• Tests, Allies, and Enemies
  This is where the belief starts to fail repeatedly.
  The Hero still believes X, but X keeps costing them more and more.

If you look down that row and it feels flat, vague, or repetitive, flag it. Don’t fix it yet. Just notice it.

What to look for in the tension row

Now look at how tension is building across the same stages.

• Ordinary World
  Mostly baseline, but perhaps something feels off.
  A hum of unease, a sense of wrongness, a quiet imbalance.

• Call to Adventure
  Pressure enters the system.
  Something destabilises the world the Hero was managing.

• Refusal of the Call
  Internal tension spikes.
  Conflict, fear, avoidance, rationalisation.

• Meeting the Mentor
  Tension comes from challenge to self-concept.
  The discomfort of being seen differently.

• Crossing the Threshold
  Risk becomes real.
  This is where more overt tension devices can begin: deadlines, consequences, danger, loss.

• Tests, Allies, and Enemies
  Tension escalates cumulatively.
  Stakes rise. Costs increase. Failure becomes more dangerous.

Ask yourself: Is tension building, or is it just appearing and disappearing?

Your audit questions for today

Sit with your grid as a whole and work through these questions carefully:

• If your Hero got what they wanted at the end, would the story actually be over?

• Does the need require them to become a genuinely different person?

• Are the want and the need truly in opposition…or just two nice-sounding goals?

• Is your villain strongest at the moment your Hero is most tempted to stay the same?

• Do your allies reflect different possible versions of the Hero?

• Do your tests reward the flaw early on and punish it later?

• Are the tests escalating in emotional cost, risk, or consequence?

Don’t judge the story (or yourself!)…simply diagnose the story.

Your tasks today

1. Make sure your grid is fully filled in for plot, character arc, and tension (bullet points are perfect).

2. Flag anything that feels out of alignment in the comments. (Don’t try to fix it yet or suggest changes…just tell me what you think isn’t working anymore.)

I’ll be in there letting you know whether something genuinely needs realignment or whether it’s holding together better than you think.

Reflection question

Take this one seriously; it’s an important instinct-builder:

• What part of your story feels the most alive right now?

• What part feels like you might be forcing it?

That second answer is often where “killing your darlings” eventually comes into play. Your gut already knows more than you think.

Tomorrow, we’ll talk about what to do with what you’ve noticed. Today is just about seeing clearly.

I’ll see you in the comments.
Xx Shelly

Which is perfect, because something has come up a few times (and came up very clearly in an email thread I had yesterday): this Hero’s Journey structure can sound like it’s built for fast-paced thrillers: high stakes, big tension, action, battles.

But, it’s important to note: this structure works for any narrative story that contains transformation, including memoir and narrative non-fiction.

Your “adventure” doesn’t have to be physical. Your obstacles don’t have to be loud. Your trials don’t have to involve a chase scene, a war, or a villain with a cape.

Your journey can be internal. It can be psychological or a slow burn. It can be about grief or identity. It can be a marriage unravelling or just one conversation you keep avoiding. It can be a memory that keeps resurfacing until you finally face what it means.

Every single part of this framework still applies; it just changes how it shows up on the page.

The only stories that don’t fit this structure are the ones that are deliberately anti-narrative or overtly experimental in a way that refuses transformation and refuses meaning-making. And based on everyone I’ve spoken to in this challenge, that’s not what you’re writing.

So if you’ve been thinking, I don’t know how this fits my story because my story isn’t an action story, please email me. It fits. We just need to translate it into the kind of journey you’re actually writing.

Okay. With that said: today’s topic is the villain.

Villain vs ally vs enemy

Yesterday we talked about allies: your supporting cast, your side characters, your helpers.

But here’s what we didn’t fully touch on: sometimes an “ally” can also behave like an enemy. They can complicate things. They can sabotage. They can mirror the Hero in a painful way, and they can block progress without being a true villain.

That’s why I didn’t emphasise “enemies” yesterday. These roles can overlap. Not every ally is good, and no one in a good story is neutral. Everyone is doing something to the Hero and to the plot, whether that impact is helpful or harmful.

So today, we’re talking about something slightly different: the villain.

The villain doesn’t have to be Voldemort

Your villain does not have to be a big, scary person. It doesn’t have to be a Darth Vader figure or Voldermort or a huge dragon that needs to be defeated. It can be, of course, but it doesn’t have to be.

A villain can be:

• a belief

• a habit

• an addiction

• a role the Hero can’t escape

• a past event that still has power

• a social structure

• a way of thinking that keeps the hero trapped

In other words: the villain can be internal.

The villain is the “big bad” of the journey—the thing that most powerfully stands in the way of the Hero becoming who they need to become. It’s the force that tries to keep them in the want, and keep them away from the need.

And here’s the key: the villain often mirrors or opposes what the hero needs.

If your Hero needs to step into leadership, the villain will tempt them to stay small.
If your Hero needs to tell the truth, the villain will offer silence.
If your Hero needs to let go, the villain will tighten their grip.

And the villain always believes it is right.

Because: villains don’t see themselves as villains. They see themselves as justified. Necessary. Protective. Reasonable. Even good.

One of the exercises we do in the Academy is telling the story from the villain’s perspective, because from the villain’s point of view, the Hero is the villain. That reversal will teach you a lot.

The villain is not one confrontation

Another important point: the villain isn’t only something that shows up at the end.

The villain is a constant pressure throughout the story. It builds and lingers and shapes the atmosphere.

Think about Harry Potter: Voldemort is present long before we truly meet him. He is the reason the world is the way it is. He’s in the fear, the rules, the silences, and the warnings. He’s the pressure.

If your villain is internal, it works the same way. The belief, the addiction, the self-protective lie—it’s present throughout. The Hero may deny it. They may rationalise it. They may not name it yet. But we feel it. And we know it has to be faced.

Common mistakes to avoid

A few consistent mistakes I see:

• the villain only appears at the end (we need the pressure earlier)

• the villain is “evil” just because the story needs one (you don’t need evil — you need opposition)

• the villain has no clear goal (even an internal villain is trying to protect something, preserve something, control something)

• the villain isn’t connected to the Hero’s flaw (they need to be two sides of the same coin)

Know your villain as well as you know your Hero. Whether it’s a person, a system, or an inner belief, it has a history. It has logic and leverage.

Your task for today

In the comments below, tell me:

Who (or what) is the villain of your story?

What is the force that is constantly present—the thing that most actively keeps your hero from transforming?

Reflection prompt

For the chat, the comments, or your journal:

How does the villain tempt the Hero to stay the same?

If it’s internal: what does it promise? What does it protect them from?
If it’s external: what does it offer that makes the old self feel safer than the new one?

This is a deep one, so take your time with it.

And remember: if you’re writing something subtle and emotional and you’re not sure how to translate these pieces into your kind of story, email me. I love those conversations.

I’ll see you tomorrow. And don’t forget that we’re taking another breather on Day 20, so plan ahead for that.

Have fun!
Xx Shelly

It really does feel like January moving fast, partly because I’ve been spending so much time emailing you and talking through your stories, which I absolutely love. A lot of you are starting to hit that click moment now, or you’re right on the edge of it.

If you’re not there yet, that’s completely normal. Feeling stuck, confused, unsure whether you’re “doing this right,” or wondering what on earth I was talking about in the video is all part of the process.

If that’s you right now, remember what we talked about on Day 10: give your brain some space. Step away. Do something mundane. Trust that things are still working in the background. The clarity does come…and when it does, it’s incredibly satisfying.

I also want to say welcome back to those of you who dropped off for a couple of days and are now catching up. Life happens. The videos will be up for at least a few months. And if you’re behind and I miss your comments, you’re always welcome to email me directly and ask for feedback.

Okay…let’s get into today’s lesson.

Yesterday we talked about tests and trials: the situations, problems, and pressures you put your Hero into to move the story forward. Today we’re staying in Act 2, but we’re shifting focus to the people around your Hero.

Today is about allies.

What allies actually do in a story

Allies are not just “nice” characters or helpers. Their real job is to act as mirrors for the Hero.

An ally reflects something back to the Hero that helps us, as readers, see the Hero more clearly. That reflection might show:

• who the Hero thinks they are,

• who the Hero is afraid of becoming,

• or who the Hero could be if they changed.

This reflection doesn’t always come through kind words or encouragement, though. Sometimes it comes through disagreement, friction, disappointment, or even quiet contrast in how the ally behaves.

When you’re thinking about allies, ask yourself:

• What belief of my Hero does this character keep bumping into?

• What truth does this character expose—intentionally or unintentionally?

  

Allies and want vs need

Some allies reinforce the Hero’s want.
They agree with the Hero’s flawed worldview, justify their behaviour, or make staying the same feel safer. These characters often feel supportive—especially early on—but they quietly delay change.

Other allies point toward the Hero’s need.
They challenge assumptions, create discomfort, or model a way of being the Hero isn’t ready to accept yet. These allies often frustrate the Hero, because they apply pressure before the Hero wants to change.

Both types are important.

A helpful test is this:
If your Hero fully listened to this character right now, would the story end early?

If yes, that ally is pointing toward the need.

Allies vs Mentors (don’t mix them up)

Remember: the mentor helps the Hero cross the threshold.
The ally helps the Hero survive the journey.

Mentors tend to appear early, offer tools or clarity, and then step back. Allies walk alongside the Hero through act two. They come and go, but they’re embedded in the story’s ongoing conflict.

If a character mostly explains things, they’re probably a mentor. If they’re present when things go wrong, they’re probably an ally.

Support systems (not always people)

You may also have support systems in your story. These aren’t characters who travel with the Hero, but emotional anchors that stabilise or destabilise them.

Support systems can be:

• an object,

• a memory,

• a belief,

• a place,

• a habit,

• or even the voice of someone who isn’t physically present.

These often show us internal change very subtly. An object that once comforted the Hero might later feel inadequate. A belief that once kept them safe might become a trap.

Ask yourself:

• Does this support system pull the Hero toward the want or the need?

• Does its meaning change over the course of the story?

  

Allies should complicate things

Good allies are not neutral. They should make decisions harder, not easier.

They might:

• disagree with the Hero,

• withhold information,

• need something at the wrong moment,

• benefit from the Hero staying the same,

• or be harmed by the Hero’s flaw.

They should also have their own flaws, limits, and wants. No one in a story should exist purely to be “right.”

Always bring it back to the Hero’s core flaw:

• Does this ally enable it?

• Challenge it?

• Suffer because of it?

• Benefit from it?

  

Your task for today

In the comments, name 1 to 3 allies in your story.

That’s it for the basic task.

If you want to go a step further, tell me:

• what each ally reflects back to the Hero, and

• whether they reinforce the Hero’s want or push toward the hero’s need.

  

Reflection question

Here’s today’s reflection question, designed to get you thinking like a writer:

Which ally in your story makes it harder for your Hero to change…and why?

You don’t need to put this into your book. Just thinking it through will deepen the emotional logic of your story.

That’s it for today. This is a really rich, fun part of storytelling, so take your time with it. Think about your supporting cast, how they mirror your Hero, how they help or hinder change, and what tensions they introduce just by existing in the story.

I’ll see you tomorrow for Day 17!

Have fun!
Xx Shelly

I am genuinely proud of this group. There is a strong core of you who are actively commenting, starting threads, and emailing me every day, and there are many more of you who have written to say, “I’m quiet, but I’m here.”

The fact that you are still opening these emails, still watching the videos, still thinking about your story at the halfway point is massive.

An apology

Before we get into today’s lesson, I owe you an apology! O

ver the last couple of days I’ve been slow to open the chat (or completely forgetting!) and slower than I’d like to be replying to emails. It’s been one of those weeks where you sit down to work and suddenly it’s mid-afternoon and you’re not entirely sure how that happened. I’m catching up, and if you’re waiting on a reply from me, it is coming.

Having said that: don’t forget that this challenge is happening live.

If you want feedback, now is the moment to take advantage of that. I’m reading your comments, replying to emails, and having proper conversations about your stories in a way that won’t be available once these 30 days are over unless you’re inside the Academy.

So if you’ve been hesitating, consider this your nudge to step forward and let me see what you’re working on.

Okay. Let’s talk about today.

Over the last couple of days we’ve been talking about tension. First, the deep, foundational tension between what your Hero wants and what your hero needs—that internal transformation without which there is no story. Then we talked about tension devices: the external pressure points you can use to keep your reader engaged and to press on that inner conflict.

Today, we bring those two strands together as we move fully into Act Two.

Tests and trials

Tests and trials make up the long middle of your story. This is where most of the plot lives. These are the circumstances you put your Hero into in order to challenge their worldview, test their strategy, and move them—slowly and often painfully—toward the transformation they need to make.

A helpful way to think about this is that tests are meant to teach, and trials are meant to wound.

Tests are lower-stakes challenges. They’re moments where the Hero is learning how this new world works. They may succeed or fail, but the cost is manageable. These moments teach your Hero something about the rules of the story world and something about themselves.

Trials are heavier. When a trial goes wrong, something meaningful is lost: a relationship, a sense of safety, trust, status, or hope. These are the moments that hurt. They’re the moments that push the Hero closer to the breaking point.

Early in Act Two, you want a balance of what one of my story structure professors used to call “good news” and “bad news.” The Hero wins a little, loses a little, stumbles forward, recovers, and keeps going. Gradually, though, the stakes rise. The failures begin to cost more. The wins get smaller. And eventually you reach that familiar moment in every story where everything feels lost and the Hero believes there is no way forward.

Another crucial idea here is this: at first, tests and trials often reward the wrong behaviour.

Your Hero is still clinging to what they want, to the beliefs and strategies that worked in their ordinary world. Early on, those strategies might even help them survive. But over time, those same behaviours start to fail. The story begins to punish the Hero for holding on to their flaw, until they are forced to confront the need for change.

Tests and trials also teach the reader the rules of the world. This is especially important if you’re writing fantasy, speculative fiction, or anything with an altered reality. Your Hero may try to operate using the rules of their ordinary world—and fail—because the rules are different here. That failure is how we learn.

Throughout all of this, remember to balance plot and character. Action without emotional movement becomes exhausting. Emotional reflection without pressure becomes static. The story lives in the relationship between the two.

Common pitfalls to watch for

A few things to be mindful of as you think about tests and trials:

• stacking too many similar challenges that test the same thing

• escalating action without escalating emotional cost

• introducing obstacles that don’t touch the Hero’s core flaw

• resolving challenges too cleanly or too easily

Mess, complication, and unresolved tension are often signals that you’re doing it right.

Your task for today

I want you to think of three tests or trials you will put your Hero through.

You are not solving them yet. You’re not writing the clever escape or the final win.

For each one, simply consider:

• what goes wrong

• what it costs the Hero

• how the hero responds with their current mindset

Specificity matters more than drama here.

Reflection question

This one is designed to push you into a writer’s way of thinking:

Which test in your story tempts your Hero to believe that their flawed strategy might actually work…and why is that dangerous?

You don’t need to include this answer in the story itself. This is for you, as the architect of the narrative.

That’s it for today. This is a big, important section of the journey, and we may circle back to it as needed. Tomorrow, we’ll talk about allies and enemies:the people who emerge during these tests and trials and complicate things even further.

Congratulations on making it halfway. That persistence is exactly what gets books written.

I’ll see you tomorrow.

Xx Shelly

We’re still talking about tension today, but we’re shifting gears slightly. Yesterday we focused on the deep tension that drives the whole story: the gap between what your hero wants and what they actually need.

That internal pull is the engine of your book. Without it, there is no real transformation, and without transformation, there isn’t a story.

Today, we’re looking at something different.

These are external tools and devices you can use when you start shaping the plot—the situations, pressures, and circumstances you put your Hero into in order to force those internal shifts to happen.

Think of yesterday as the psychology of your story, and today as the craft tools that apply pressure from the outside.

First: Celebrate

You did such a good job yesterday. Honestly. The way you articulated your Heroes’ wants and needs—in the comments, in the chat, and in emails—was exactly what I hope for at this stage. You’ve nailed the hard, foundational bit, which means what’s coming next is going to be much more fun.

And one more celebration while we’re here: today is Day 14, which means tomorrow we are officially halfway through the challenge. If you’re still here, still opening emails, still thinking about your story, that alone tells me you have what it takes to finish a book. Persistence and consistency are the difference between people who talk about writing and people who actually become authors.

Okay. Let’s get into tension devices.

Internal vs External

Just to ground us:

• Characterisation is internal. It’s the emotional and psychological change your Hero goes through as they move from want to need.

• Plot is external. It’s what you do to your Hero— he tests, obstacles, delays, and pressures that push them toward that change.

Today is about those external pressures. And they don’t just work on the Hero; they work on the reader too. When these are used well, your reader feels pulled forward, thinking, What’s going to happen? I have to know.

Key tension devices to know

You are not plotting these into your story yet.

For today, I just want them on your radar. Get familiar with them, notice which ones excite you, and let them sit in the back of your mind. We’ll put them to work later.

Here are the main ones to know:

The ticking clock
There is a clear countdown or deadline. We know exactly when something will happen if the Hero doesn’t act, and we can feel time running out.

The ticking bomb
We know something bad will happen, but we don’t know when. The reader is aware of the danger, even if the characters aren’t, which creates constant unease.

Dramatic irony
The reader knows something the character doesn’t. This is the “don’t do that!” feeling (incredibly powerful for tension).

The narrowing of options
Paths to success keep disappearing. Each failure removes another possible way forward, making the situation feel tighter and more desperate.

Cost escalation
Failures start to hurt more. Early mistakes are survivable; later ones are devastating. The stakes keep rising.

Pressure on the flaw
The story repeatedly puts the Hero in situations that trigger their core flaw, forcing it to surface again and again.

Misunderstanding
Characters act on incorrect information. The reader understands the truth, but the characters don’t, which can create comedy, tragedy, or both.

Delay or withholding
Something helpful is promised—information, rescue, relief—but it keeps getting delayed or held just out of reach.

Your task for today

Remember: don’t think yet about how you’re going to use these!

In the comments, I want you to do two things:

1. Pick two tension devices from the list above that you feel most drawn to. (Not how you’ll use them…just which ones intrigue you.)

2. Find two examples of any of these devices being used in something you’ve read or watched (a book, film, or TV show). Spotting them in the wild is part of learning to think like a writer.

Put both of those in the comments below.

Leave a comment

I’ll also open up the chat for questions, because this is a lesson that often sparks good discussion.

Tomorrow, we start getting into plotting the journey itself, and we’ll be doing it with all of this quietly working in the background.

See you then,
Shelly

We are officially into the story now.

Up until this point, you’ve been laying the foundations: your Hero’s Ordinary World, their core flaw, the destabilising moment, the refusal, meeting the guide, and crossing the threshold. Depending on the length of your book, that can easily be your first few chapters.

Now we’re in the adventure/journey: the part where things start going wrong, allies and obstacles appear, and the Hero begins to get tested.

Housekeeping note

I’ve noticed a couple of you starting your own threads in the chat, and I love that. Please don’t be shy about it.

If you want feedback from the group, start a thread and give us the basics: who your Hero is, what their Ordinary World looks like, what your destabilising moment is, and where you’ve landed with refusal/guide/threshold.

It’s hard to give useful feedback when we don’t know your story yet, and the whole point of a writers’ group (or live challenge) is that you get multiple perspectives, not just mine. You never know what someone else’s experience will unlock for you.

Let’s talk about tension

Tension is what pulls a reader through a story. It’s what makes us care. It creates stakes, and it makes us lean forward. If we don’t care whether your Hero succeeds or fails, we don’t keep reading.

Today and tomorrow we’re going to focus on two different kinds of tension:

• Today: the foundational tension that comes from your hero’s want versus need

• Tomorrow: specific tension devices you can use in scenes to keep the pressure on

  

How want vs need creates tension

Here’s the big idea: your story cannot resolve until your Hero comes around to what they need…not what they want.

When the Hero enters the journey, what’s driving them is what they want. And what they want is usually tied tightly to their core flaw and their Ordinary World thinking.

That’s where the tension comes from.

Because when a Hero is pursuing what they want (and what they want is rooted in a flawed belief), they make decisions with a skewed mindset. They choose poorly. They misread people. They cling to control. They reach for the “old solution” in a situation where the old solution doesn’t work anymore.

So they hit roadblocks.
They fail tests.
They create new problems.
They keep the story moving…because they’re chasing the wrong thing.

And then, slowly, through pressure and consequence, they begin to realise what they actually need.

Most of the time, the need is the opposite of the want. It’s the antidote to the flaw.

Another way to think about it: at the start, your Hero wants their Ordinary World back exactly as it was before the destabilising moment. But that can’t be the ending, because if nothing changes, it isn’t really a story.

The “good ending” is the ending where the Hero becomes someone who can live differently.

Quick examples

• Finding Nemo: Marlin wants control and safety at all costs. He needs to let go, trust, and allow Nemo freedom.

• The Hunger Games: Katniss wants to stay invisible, self-sufficient, untouchable. She needs to be seen, form alliances, and stand for something beyond survival.

• The Matrix: Neo wants answers without responsibility. He needs to accept agency and step fully into the role only he can carry.

• The Princess Diaries: Mia wants to remain unnoticed and avoid responsibility. She needs to accept visibility and step into leadership.

  

Your task for today

This is a deep one, so take your time. And it’s completely okay if you don’t have a perfect answer yet. We’re building clarity as we go.

In the comments below, give me two sentences:

1. What does your Hero want?

2. What does your Hero need?

Reflection prompt

In the chat (or in the comments, if you prefer):

How does your Hero’s want actively delay or block what they need?

Be as specific as you can. This question is going to start revealing your obstacles, your failures, and the shape of the tests your hero will face, because most of those tests exist to show your Hero, again and again, that the old way won’t work.

As always, email me if you want to talk it through; I love these deeper back-and-forths about your stories.

I’ll see you tomorrow for tension devices.

Bye for now,
Shelly