How to Structure Your Novel: A Step-by-Step Guide
Let’s be honest: coming up with a brilliant idea for a book is pretty hard, but do you know what’s harder? Figuring out how to structure your novel. It’s what drives most writers up the wall, newbies and published ones alike.
And there’s a reason behind this.
Story structure is the framework that unifies the events of your story into a cohesive narrative. It’s the concrete foundation you build everything else on. Without structure, you’re just throwing words at a page and hoping they stick. Trust me, I know. I actually kind of messed up my manuscript’s initial draft with the structure alone.
Structures are also why you’ll read stories like Bridgerton that don’t really have anything new there but love them. Seriously, I think Meg Cabot’s Victoria and the Rogue and Nicola and the Viscount were far, far better than any of the Bridgerton books in terms of writing and plot. But you know why Bridgerton is better and got picked up by Netflix? The structure. The writing was bad, we can keep debating about some scenes written but Julia Quinn knows how to structure her books.
Think of a novel’s structure like a bookshelf with matching bookends at the beginning and end, and the books themselves acting as the chapters in between. That matching element matters because the beginning is all about possibilities, while the ending is about resolution.
Basically, structures are important and in this blog post, we’re taking a closer look at exactly how to structure your novel. You’ll learn how to build strong scenes and chapters, find your approach, understand the classic three-act structure and its variations, explore famous story frameworks, and nail your ending. So, let’s start.
How to Set Up the Foundation of Your Book
Before we look at the big picture of your entire novel, we need to zoom in and look at the foundation: pivotal moments, scenes and plotlines that bring your story alive.
Scenes Are Your Building Blocks
The scene is the fundamental unit of fiction. If you want a solid novel, ninety percent of it should be written in a scene. So, what makes a scene “good?”
Three Core Elements of Every Scene
Every single scene needs three core elements: a goal, a conflict, and a disaster.
- Goal: Your protagonist must want something highly specific and be actively pursuing it. Not “I want to be happy” but “I need to get this job interview” or “I have to steal that key before midnight.”
- Conflict: Obstacles arise to prevent them from achieving that goal. And here’s the key: those obstacles should ideally come from your protagonist’s own bad decisions and dumb choices rather than things just randomly happening to them. If your character makes terrible choices and those choices blow up in their face, that’s compelling. If a tree falls on their car for no reason, that’s just bad luck and boring storytelling.
- Disaster: They don’t get what they want. In fact, things get much worse. The scene shouldn’t end with “well, that worked out nicely.” It should end with “oh no, now what?”
For a complete guide on how to write compelling scenes from start to finish, check out: How to Write the Perfect Scene: A Writer’s Guide.
How to Fix Flat Scenes
If you find that a scene is falling flat, ask yourself a few tough questions. Are you stuffing the room with characters who have absolutely no job to do? Sometimes we fill our scenes with people who pretend to look busy while accomplishing nothing, like kids in the kitchen. If those extra characters are just there to collect their allowance, boot them out of the room.
Make sure something has actually changed by the end of the scene. If the emotional climate remains exactly the same throughout an entire scene, it will feel flat and boring. Someone’s mood should shift. The stakes should escalate. The situation should evolve.
If you’re struggling to figure out whether a scene is pulling its weight, read: 4 Signs You Should Delete a Scene: A Guide for Writers.
Grouping Scenes Into Chapters
When you group your scenes together, you create chapters. Chapters are an organizational tool that directly relates to both your story’s structure and its pacing.
Pacing is the speed at which your reader travels through the story, and it’s very helpful to think of your novel’s pacing like a topographical map. You don’t want your pacing to look completely flat like Saskatchewan, but you also don’t want one exhausting Mount Everest after the next.
You need dramatic peaks followed by quiet valleys. Those quiet moments give your reader a chance to catch their breath and understand what’s truly at stake. Without those valleys, your reader will get exhausted and stop caring.
Finding Your Approach (Pantsers vs. Plotters)
When it comes to organizing your scenes and chapters into a full-length book, writers usually fall into two main camps: Pantsers and Plotters.
Two Main Camps
- Pantsers (Discovery Writers): A Pantser is someone who writes on a whim. They treat writing as a process of discovery rather than following a strict plan. If you’re a Pantser, trying to rigidly plot your story in advance might make the writing feel too predictable. You might prefer putting interesting characters in difficult situations just to find out what organically happens next. The discovery is the fun part.
- Plotters (Outliners): Plotters, on the other hand, thrive on detailed planning. They map out character backstories and plot their arcs with precision before they ever type the first chapter. If you’re a Plotter, knowing where you’re going gives you confidence. You’re not wandering in the dark hoping you’ll stumble onto something good. You have a roadmap.
Neither Is Better (Most Are Hybrids)
Here’s the truth: neither approach is inherently better or worse, and most writers are actually hybrids to some degree.
However, even if you’re a hardcore discovery writer, you still absolutely need to understand structure. Structuring as a discovery writer is about understanding what each individual piece of your story does and fitting those pieces together in a consistent, coherent way.
You can use the forward motion of action and consequence to keep your story moving forward. It functions like a wheel that keeps turning. If all the pieces of a story are properly in place, the plot will fall naturally like dominoes.
Breaking Down Into Nested Arcs
To keep from getting overwhelmed as a discovery writer, it helps immensely to break your book down into smaller, nested arcs. Looking at your entire book as one massive arc is like looking at the ocean. It’s incredibly easy to get lost and drown in it.
But by breaking it up into mini-arcs, you can stay on track and work forward in highly manageable chunks. Understand what a chapter means in the specific context of your book, and use it consistently to establish the resting heart rate of your story.
How to Use Story Templates
You’ve probably heard of famous story templates like the Three-Act Structure. Hero’s Journey, or Save the Cat. These templates are fantastic tools, but here’s what you need to understand: they’re just one possible way to structure a story.
Understanding the Tool
Teaching a writer a rigid template is like teaching someone a recipe but not teaching them how to actually cook. If you understand the core principles of structure—how to cook—you might find alternate ways to structure a work, or you might be able to tweak the recipe to perfectly fit your own tastes.
If you learn how the pieces of a story work together, you can recreate the shape of a story intuitively without feeling artificially restricted by mandatory plot beats.
Don’t Be Too Mathematical
Sometimes, trying to be too mathematical (using tried and tested formulae that have worked for bestsellers) with your structure can be a huge mistake. If you dissect an animal, you can certainly see how it works, but in doing so, you kill it. Stories can be the exact same way. Being overly scientific and rigid can kill the whole thing.
Following story structure does not eliminate your creativity. The “formula” of structure is really just like the canvas of an artist. The shape of the canvas limits you, but within those borders, you are completely free to paint whatever beautiful picture you want.
Structure as Canvas
Real life doesn’t have a clean inciting incident, a midpoint, or a climax. It’s just an endless series of events rolling organically on top of each other. A critical part of writing a novel is disguising your meticulous crafting so the reader doesn’t ever notice the magician’s secret.
They should feel like they’re experiencing something natural and real, not watching you check boxes on a beat sheet. Use templates as a guide, not a strict must-follow recipe. Understand the principles behind them, then make the structure work for your story—not the other way around.
The Classic Three-Act Structure
Now that you understand what a novel structure is, let’s take a look at the most foundational template in storytelling: the Three-Act Structure.
This framework divides the narrative into three distinct parts: Setup, Confrontation, and Resolution. It’s been used for centuries across every medium imaginable, and it’s a brilliant place to start your journey into understanding story structure.
Act 1: The Setup
This opening act is all about setting the stage for the story that’s about to unfold. You start with a hook, grabbing the reader’s attention as early as possible—ideally on the very first page or even the first line. Then, you establish the status quo of your character’s ordinary world. Show us what their life looks like before everything goes sideways.
Next comes the Inciting Incident, a major event that completely disrupts the protagonist’s normal world and sets the entire story in motion. This is the moment that changes everything.
By the end of Act 1, you hit the First Plot Point. This is the protagonist’s active reaction to the Inciting Incident. They make a choice that brings them fully into the story and establishes them as a driving force. They cross the threshold into the main adventure, and there’s no going back.
Act 2: The Confrontation
This is usually the longest act of the book, and it’s where most of the action happens. It begins with rising action, where the protagonist progresses through the plot and faces numerous challenging obstacles. They’re learning, struggling, adapting, and often failing.
Right in the middle of your book, you’ll hit the Midpoint. The Midpoint is incredibly important because it acts as a turning point that essentially cuts the story in two. It can be a massive plot twist, a revelation, or a major event that dramatically raises the stakes and forces your protagonist to respond.
After the Midpoint, you’ll encounter pinch points. These are designed to remind your protagonist exactly how high the stakes are and what they’ll lose if they fail. The pressure keeps building. By the end of Act 2, the protagonist is heavily tested and usually fails. Their ability to succeed is thrown into serious doubt. This is the low point before the final push.
Act 3: The Resolution
Entering the final stretch, you hit the pre-climax or Third Plot Point. Here, your protagonist is typically at a deep low point, and things have definitively not gone as planned. They must pull themselves together and choose decisive action.
This leads directly into the Climax, where the protagonist faces their greatest challenge and the central conflict is finally decided. The high point of the novel happens here, and the main character faces their dilemma head-on.
Finally, you have the Resolution, where the main conflict is resolved, loose ends are satisfyingly tied up, and the reader gets a glimpse of the protagonist’s new status quo. The world has changed, and so has your character.
Other Types of Act Structures
While the three-act structure is the most popular structure, it’s not the only way to think about acts. If you want to emphasize different parts of your story or approach pacing differently, you have options.
The Four-Act Structure
If you want to emphasize the middle of your book to avoid a sagging plot, you can think of your story as a Four-Act Structure.
In this view, Act 1 is the beginning, but the massive middle is cut into two distinct halves: Act 2A and Act 2B, separated by the crucial Midpoint where everything changes. Then, Act 3 serves as the ending.
Focusing heavily on that Midpoint pivot gives your meandering story renewed purpose. It forces you to treat the middle as two separate journeys instead of one long slog. Act 2A is about your protagonist trying one approach, and Act 2B is about them adapting after the Midpoint changes everything.
The Word Count Method
If you’re a writer who loves numbers, there’s a very practical, mathematical way to approach pacing. You can simply divide your target word count by eight, because there are eight crucial structural elements needed to make a story work.
For example, if you’re writing an 80,000-word novel, each section will be roughly 10,000 words. You would have 10,000 words from the Hook to the Inciting Event, another 10,000 words to the First Plot Point, and so on, all the way through the Pinch Points, Midpoint, and Climax.
This highly organized method gives you mental freedom by breaking the daunting task of writing a whole book into small, approachable 10,000-word chunks. Instead of thinking “I have to write 80,000 words,” you think “I have to write 10,000 words to get to the next beat.”
Famous Story Frameworks
Beyond the classic act structures, there are some incredibly famous story frameworks that give you even more specific guidance on where plot beats should fall and what they should accomplish.
The Hero’s Journey
The Hero’s Journey is one of the oldest structures on record and was famously used to outline the original Star Wars.
In this epic structure, the hero starts in their Ordinary World before receiving a Call to Adventure. Usually, the hero refuses this call at first because they would much rather stay in their comfortable, straightforward life. But then, they meet a Mentor—a wise, experienced figure who teaches them important skills and gives them the push they desperately need.
The hero then crosses the threshold into the new world and faces tests, allies, and enemies. They approach the “innermost cave,” representing their ultimate goal, and face a massive ordeal. If they survive, they receive a reward (often called seizing the sword).
But the journey isn’t over. They must take the road back, facing pursued dangers, before a final “Resurrection” climax where they prove what they’ve learned. Finally, they return home with the elixir—bringing back the knowledge or treasure they gained to their ordinary world.
The Hero’s Journey works beautifully for epic adventures, fantasies, and stories about transformation through trials.
Save the Cat! Beat Sheet
If you want a structure that provides even more specific milestones, look no further than the Save the Cat! beat sheet. This highly detailed method gives you exact percentages for when plot beats should happen.
It gets its fun name from a setup moment where the hero does something endearing, like saving a cat, to make the audience immediately like them. In Save the Cat, your novel’s core theme should be stated explicitly by another character around the 5% mark. This plants the seed for what your story is really about.
By 20% to 50% of the way through, you hit the “Fun and Games” section, also known as the promise of the premise. If you promised your readers a goofy story of people falling in love, this is exactly where you go on those charmingly awkward dates. This is the heart of your book’s appeal.
The Bad Guys Close In from 50% to 75%, ratcheting up the tension until you hit the devastating “All is Lost” moment. Here, the hero hits absolute rock bottom and loses everything.
This directly triggers the “Dark Night of the Soul,” a time of deep despair and self-reflection where the protagonist decides whether they can even continue on their journey. When they finally figure out the theme and gather their courage, they break into the final act for the grand finale.
Save the Cat is incredibly popular because it’s so specific. You know exactly where every beat should fall, which makes it easier to diagnose where your story might be going wrong.
Modern Story Structures
Not all structures follow the traditional act-based approach. Some modern frameworks focus on different priorities—character development, immediate action, or working backward from the ending.
Dan Harmon’s Story Circle (Character-Focused)
If you want a structure that focuses intensely on character development rather than just plot events, consider Dan Harmon’s Story Circle.
This 8-step process is all about the protagonist’s internal wants and needs. It goes like this:
- A character is in a zone of comfort
- But they passionately want something
- They enter an unfamiliar situation
- Adapt to it
- And actually get what they wanted
- However, they pay a shockingly heavy price for it
- Realizing that what they wanted wasn’t actually what they needed
- They then return to their familiar situation, having changed for better or worse
This keeps the focus squarely on how the events of the plot are actively molding your character’s internal landscape. It’s less about “what happens” and more about “who this person becomes.”
The Fichtean Curve (Action-Focused)
Maybe you don’t want a slow, methodical setup. If you want to dive right into the thrilling action, try using the Fichtean Curve.
This fast-paced structure completely bypasses the “ordinary world” setup and starts immediately with the inciting incident, throwing the characters straight into rising action. The protagonist is put through a rapid series of many obstacles and mini-crises that keep readers eagerly flipping pages to reach the climax.
Each escalating crisis contributes to the reader’s understanding of the narrative, replacing the need for long initial exposition. You learn about the character and their world through action, not through pages of backstory.
This works brilliantly for thrillers, action-adventure stories, or any book where you want to hook readers immediately and never let go.
Seven-Point Story Structure (Ending-Focused)
If you want to ensure your ending is mind-blowing, you might want to try the Seven-Point Story Structure.
In this framework, writers are highly encouraged to start at the end, with the resolution, and work their way backward to the starting point. With the ending clearly in mind, you can force your protagonist to begin the story in a state that best contrasts their finale—ensuring a dramatic, satisfying change from the beginning to the end.
When you know where your character ends up, it’s much easier to figure out where they need to start and what journey will get them there.
How to Add Complexity with Subplots and the Snowflake Method
Sometimes you have a great idea, but you just aren’t sure how to stretch it into a full, 80,000-word novel. That’s where the Snowflake Method comes in.
The Snowflake Method
The Snowflake Method allows you to expand on a tiny idea and flesh it out bit by bit, adding layers of complexity until you have a fully developed story.
You can add tremendous depth by using techniques like mirroring—taking a subplot that reflects the main plot in a tragic or interesting way to add literary heft to the story. For example, if your main plot is about a character learning to trust again after betrayal, you might have a subplot where a secondary character faces a similar challenge but fails. The contrast adds weight.
You can also complicate your plot by ramming your genre into something completely different. Take a standard romance and throw in a sci-fi time-travel element. Take a mystery and add supernatural horror. The collision creates something fresh and unpredictable.
Adding an edgy “glint of steel”—like a sudden high-stakes abduction or burst of danger—can instantly transform a stalling middle into a page-turner. When the pacing drags, inject chaos.
Structuring Subplots
Remember, every subplot you weave into your novel must have its own little journey. A subplot will have its very own beginning, middle, and end, with its own structure of Initiating Incident, Developments, Crisis, and Resolution.
Subplots aren’t just filler. They’re mini-stories that either reflect, contrast, or complicate the main plot. They give your secondary characters room to breathe and add texture to your world.
But here’s the critical part: if a subplot doesn’t bear on your protagonist’s ability to achieve their goal, that subplot must be heavily revised or completely deleted. Every subplot should either support the main story, deepen the theme, or reveal something essential about your characters. If it’s just there because you thought it was cool, cut it.
How to Write the Ending of Your Novel
Eventually, your characters will face their biggest, most terrifying obstacles, and all those simmering plots and subplots will come to a head. A truly great climax will have your reader cheering, crying, laughing, or experiencing all of the above.
But how exactly do you structure a killer ending?
The Unbreakable Rule
First, there is one major, unbreakable rule for your story’s resolution: absolutely no new expositional information may enter the story once the finale has been triggered.
If something appears in the final act, it must have been actively foreshadowed, referenced, or already in play. This is a concept known as Chekhov’s gun. If you prominently show a gun in one scene, the characters have to use it eventually.
Setting up elements within your narrative must lead to resolutions or consequences to contribute to a deeply satisfying reader experience. Don’t introduce a magical artifact in the last chapter that solves everything. Don’t reveal a secret twin who saves the day. Your readers will feel cheated.
The Hero Must Be the Catalyst
During this grand finale, your hero must be the primary catalyst. They need to boldly step up and take the lead. They cannot merely sit around observing or narrating. They cannot settle for a supporting role. And most importantly, they cannot be rescued by someone else.
The reader stuck with your protagonist for hundreds of pages. Now they need to see the protagonist take charge and solve their own problems.
Demonstrate Internal Growth
The hero should vividly demonstrate that they have conquered the inner demons that stood in their way in the past, and they must use that internal growth to attack the exterior conflict blocking their path. This is the exact moment where your protagonist demonstrates true courage, immense creativity, and out-of-the-box thinking. This is where they finally earn the right to be called a hero.
The more the reader deeply feels the ending through that heroism, the more effective and unforgettable your conclusion will be. The ending isn’t just about defeating the villain or solving the mystery. It’s about showing how much your character has changed and grown through the journey.
If you’re interested in learning more about writing endings, check out: How to Write Effective Endings.
Now Go Write Your Novel!
Writing a novel is an incredible, challenging, and deeply rewarding journey. Don’t be intimidated by the scale of this task. You don’t have to figure it all out at once. Start with strong scenes. Group them into chapters. Choose a structural framework that resonates with you—whether that’s the classic three-act, the Hero’s Journey, or something more experimental.
Build your story piece by piece. Make sure every subplot earns its place and every ending pays off what you set up. Choose an idea you love enough to stick with through the hard parts, find the structural rhythm that works best for your voice, and start writing. You have the tools, you have the knowledge, and now, all that’s left is to type that magical first sentence.


