Ask This Question When You’re Overwhelmed by Your Story

Escape analysis paralysis with one powerful question. It’s deceptively simple—and yet it unlocks everything.
Ask This Question When You’re Overwhelmed by Your Story

Ever Felt Overwhelmed by Your Story?

If you’re like many of the writers I work with, you’re pretty savvy about story structure. You know your Story Grid, your Save the Cat!, your Hero’s Journey. You’ve probably analyzed your story six ways to Sunday, and you’ve got the spreadsheets and outlines and diagrams and graphs to prove it.

And all that analysis has leveled up your story significantly. You’ve solved major structural problems by applying your extensive knowledge of story theory.

But I bet there are still some issues nagging at you. Issues that you still can’t crack, no matter how many times you map every act and arc in your story on a spreadsheet.

In fact, if you’re still spreadsheeting your story by this point, you’re probably starting to spin out a little. You’ve analyzed and analyzed and analyzed again, and now all that story structure that was supposed to make revising your story clear and straightforward has turned against you, leaving you overwhelmed and lost.

What if you could break through all that overwhelm and find your footing in your story again?

What if you could snap out of analysis paralysis and reconnect with your characters and the inspiration that compelled you to write in the first place?

And what if you could do all of that by asking just one deceptively simple question?

You can, I promise. And in this episode, I’ll show you how.

Download the Question That Unlocks Everything

Print this question. Pin it up by your computer. And let it jog you out of paralysis whenever you’re stuck.

This is not a worksheet. I don’t want you to treat this like something you need to fill out in some formal way for every scene.

Instead, this is a little prompt to reconnect you with your story and your characters anytime you’re feeling overwhelmed or lost.

So print it out and post it up in your writing space somewhere that you can glance up and see it. And whenever you’re spinning out in analysis, or stuck in story theory, look up and see these really simple questions, turn them over in your mind and imagine how you might answer them, and see what that unlocks in your editing.

Get the free download by entering your email in the box below:

And when you grab that download, you’ll also join my email newsletter, where I’ll send you editing joy every week.

The Double-Edged Sword of Story Analysis

I love story structure. If you’ve listened to much of this podcast, you’ve probably picked up on that. I have a number of episodes breaking down my favorite story structure, the six elements of story.

And when writers come to me with stories they’ve analyzed through the lens of that structure or any of the dozens of other story structures out there, I get really excited.

I love to know how you’re thinking about the shape of your story—how you’ve crafted each building block and stacked them together into the best framework you can design. That’s really helpful for me to know as an editor, so that—if we take this architecture metaphor even further—I can inspect the foundation you’ve built, make sure it’s rock-solid and can support your story, and then continue building on everything you’ve already established.

But for you as the writer, there’s a point when all of this structural thinking becomes counterproductive.

Often, when writers decide to reach out to me, it’s because they feel lost in all the analysis. They’re spinning out in abstract story theory, thinking about turning points and midpoints and pinch points (story theory has a lot of points, doesn’t it?).

And as a result, they’re actually disconnected from their characters and their story. They don’t often realize just how disconnected they are until I ask one deceptively simple, but incredibly powerful question. But they are.

So in this episode, I’m going to share that question with you, so you can ask it anytime you’re spiraling in all your spreadsheets or getting stuck in analysis paralysis.

I’ll explain when and how to use it.

Most importantly, I’ll explain why it works—and why a question that’s so simple it’s almost a no-brainer has the power to unlock everything.

Let’s dive in!

The Question That Unlocks Everything

The question that unlocks everything is this:

What would your character do next?

It’s so simple, right? It almost feels too easy, too obvious to be helpful.

But I promise you, this question is a game-changer.

Stories, after all, are about characters doing things—about a protagonist pursuing a goal through conflict and coming out changed on the other side.

And I think we generally start imagining new stories with this kind of bottom-up thinking: envisioning who that protagonist is, what conflict is standing in their way, what goal they’re chasing, and what they’re going to do to get it.

But when we switch from discovering the story to analyzing the story, we shift into top-down thinking. Rather than studying the protagonist and determining what they’ll do next, we focus on archetypical story beats. In other words, we focus on the theoretical things that should happen in the story rather than the things that organically do happen.

My constant drumbeat throughout this episode is this: the top-down analysis of story structure and theory is fantastically helpful until it stops leading you to answers and starts spinning you out.

What Spinning Out Might Look Like

There are a few symptoms of spinning out that you can watch for.

If you’re overwhelmed, either by story analysis or your story in general, you might be spinning out.

If you have come up with a couple options for structural changes to make in your story—or maybe you’ve come up with a couple dozen options—but you can’t tell which ones best fit your story and which ones are getting you off-track, you might be spinning out.

If you are spending more time studying story theory to figure out whether you got each term and piece of story structure right rather than evaluating your story to see whether it works, then you might be spinning out.

If you have chosen to make a structural change to your story to better fit story theory, and yet your story still isn’t working once you make the change and the change doesn’t seem to fit in practice even though in theory it’s exactly what the story needs, you might be spinning out.

In all those cases, you need something to pull you out of the abstract analysis and reconnect you with your protagonist—to get out of the top-down thinking and back into bottom-up thinking that’s organically driven by your unique story and characters.

And that’s exactly what this question does:

What would your character do next?

Let’s break this question down.

What This Question Is Really Asking

In order to know what your character will do next, you first need to know what their goal is.

→ What do they want? Literally, what are they trying to achieve in this story?

Once you know what their goal is, you can work out what they have to do in order to get it.

→ Broadly speaking, what steps do they need to take in order to accomplish their goal?

Now, let’s ask another question to add in the context in which they’re pursuing their goal.

→ What just happened in the story?

And now that we know all this—the goal they’re pursuing, the steps they need to take to achieve it, and the things that happened right before this moment in the story—now we can return to the original question:

→ What would your character do next?

This is the magic moment, the question that jogs you back into connection with your story and reveals the next things that happen in it.

And once you’ve answered that, you can keep the magic going with two more questions.

→ What happens when your character does that thing?

In other words, what’s the result of their actions? Did they experience the effects they expected, or did something happen that they didn’t see coming? How do they feel now? Are they closer to their goal or farther away from it?

And then, as a result of all of that, you can ask again:

→ What would your character do next?

And the cycle repeats for as long as you need.

How to Use This Question

Now, when I use this process with writers in my one-on-one coaching, I don’t start with this full walkthrough of questions. I start with just one: “What would your character do next?”

Usually, this leads to a really great answer. It almost always takes some time—the writer might sit back and think for a few seconds, or a few minutes. But the question itself is all they need to get there.

And that’s what I recommend for you, too. Whenever you feel stuck, come back to this one question:

What would your character do next?

If that alone doesn’t unlock things, though, that’s okay. Sometimes that one question isn’t enough on its own. If that’s the case, walk yourself through the longer process.

  • What’s your character’s goal? What do they want?
  • What steps do they need to take in order to accomplish their goal?
  • What just happened in the story?
  • Because of that, that would your character do next?
  • What happens when your character does that thing? How do they feel about the result, and how does it impact their pursuit of their goal?
  • Because of that, what would your character do next?

2 Perfect Times to Use This Question

You can ask this question at literally any point in your writing or revising process. I can’t think of any time when it would be counterproductive to ask this.

But there are two times when it’s especially useful—and one in particular that I want to call out for you, since we’re all about editing here on Your Next Draft.

1. When you’re writing your first draft and discovering your story

The first point when it’s especially helpful is when you’re in the discovery phase. In other words, when you’re writing your first draft and discovering what happens in the story.

If you’re feeling stuck, or blocked, or you’re not sure what comes next, ask “What would my character do next?” and follow them.

Getting the first draft down on the page is not my area of expertise, so I won’t elaborate on that. Feel free to tuck this tip in your back pocket and give it a try next time you’re working on a first draft.

But the space where I am an expert, and where I have seen this work magic time and time again, is this second point:

2. When you’re editing a later draft and getting lost in overanalysis

When you’re editing a later draft and getting lost in overanalysis.

I see this all the time. Like I said right at the start, all the story theory is fabulously helpful and can truly transform your story once it all clicks for you.

But at the same time, it’s a double-edged sword.

Spend too much time putting your story through layers of analysis, and you’ll end up disconnected from your characters. You’ll be thinking in abstract terms about story theory to the point that you forget to consider your emotional connection to your characters.

I’ll never say to ditch story theory and leave the analysis behind. The trick is simply to recognize when it’s taken you as far as it can right now, and when you need to pivot to a different tactic in order to make fresh progress.

And a great clue that it’s time to pivot is when you’re feeling overwhelmed by overanalysis, spinning out, and lost among all your spreadsheets and story systems.

2 Reasons This Question Works So Well

Why does this question work so well? Why is it precisely what you need when you’re caught up in analysis?

I can point to two reasons:

1. OUT of theory, INTO empathy

First, as you’ve probably guessed, it pulls you OUT of theory and analysis and INTO empathy with your character.

When you’ve spent a lot of time studying and applying story theory, you start thinking about your story in terms of the structural beats found in various systems.

You ask questions like, “What should my second pinch point be?” and “Is my theme stated?” and “Did I include the Refusal of the Call?”

Again, questions like these can be really helpful! But when they stop making things more clear for you and start making things more stressful, it’s time to put down the analysis and try empathy instead.

Asking “What would my character do next?” forces you to step into your character’s shoes. Not just that—it requires you to step into their mind and heart.

It asks you to imagine yourself in their place, experiencing their burdens and stressors and traumas and worries and concerns and successes and joys and hopes and dreams and beliefs and expectations and fears.

Now, you are not simply thinking about the story in abstract, analytical terms.

Now, you’re feeling your way through your character’s life, seeing the world through their eyes, and allowing the things that drive them to also drive you.

2. OUT of what happens TO your character, INTO what your character DOES

The second reason this question is so effective is because it moves you out of thinking about what happens TO your character and instead reconnects you to your character’s agency so that THEIR actions can drive the story.

When you’re this far in the revision process and this deep in analysis, you’re thinking hard about where each structure element SHOULD be and what each story beat SHOULD do.

You also have a lot of existing story material, a lot of events that already happen on the page. And it’s easy to feel really attached to those, and to think in terms of how you can make each one fit.

So when you go to edit, you’re asking questions like, “Should this subplot come in at the end of act one or the beginning of act two?” Or, “I need this plot point to happen, but it’s not working after the midpoint, so should I move it to before the midpoint? Well, now that doesn’t make sense, because . . .”

When you approach the story from this direction, it’s easy to slip into making things happen TO your characters.

Why does this plot point happen here or there? Not because it’s the only logical thing the characters would do next, but because the author needed it to.

Maybe you need it there because you’re trying to retrofit old material. Or maybe you need it there because you’re trying to manufacture events to fit story theory.

Either way, this approach is disconnected from your protagonist’s agency, and it’s really easy to slip into creating a series of events that happen to them.

By contrast, when you set all that analysis aside and instead approach the story with “What would my character do next,” you immediately tap into your character’s agency and put them back in the driver’s seat of the story.

Now, you’re building out story events organically, with a clear cause-and-effect trajectory, all spilling directly from your character’s actions.

No more shoehorning in the things you think should happen, but that don’t quite fit.

Just a cascade of dominos, all knocked down by your character:

  • Your character is in this circumstance,
  • And they want this,
  • So they do this,
  • Which causes this to happen,
  • So they do this next,
  • Etc.

The Essential Key That Makes This Work

In order for all this to work, though, there’s one thing that’s absolutely imperative.

Embrace this, and you’ll uncover magic every time you ask the question.

Skip this, or try to skate by with just a shallow skim, and you’ll keep slamming into the same wall.

Here’s the key: you MUST get emotionally in tune with your character.

This question requires that you experience deep empathy with them. You must fully settle yourself into their shoes and mind and heart.

You must imagine what they’re thinking, what they’re feeling, what they’re believing, what they’re understanding and what they’re missing.

The more you can do this, the more nuanced understanding you can bring to them, the more fully you can know this character, this person, as a full, complete, complex, sometimes contradictory human being, the more powerful this question becomes.

This is also why this question might be even more powerful in the revision process than when you’re discovering the story in the first draft.

Because the true work of revision is to deeply understand your character and the point of the story you want to tell. It’s not really about prettying up the words on the page. It’s about thinking deeply about what you want your story to be and who your character truly is.

And since you’ve already spent an entire first draft getting to know your character, and you’re spending the revision process getting to know them so much more deeply, you have so much more information about them and more access to empathy for them than you did in the first draft.

Which means when you ask, “What would my character do next” now, your answers can be much more nuanced, complex, and aligned with your character and your story.

But all that can only happen to the degree that you settle yourself into your character’s mind and heart.

So do not skate by here. Don’t rush to quick answers or make surface-level judgments.

Sit with your character. Spend some time with them. Imagine them in all their hopes and dreams and beliefs and obstacles and emotional mess.

And from that place, ask yourself what they would do next.

Bonus: This Works for More Than Just Your Protagonist

Since you’ve stuck with me this far, I have a bonus for you:

This question works beyond just your protagonist. It’s a great question to ask your antagonist and side characters, too.

Everyone has a goal. And everyone has reasons why they expect that pursuing that goal will lead to some benefit for themselves or other people. And when they encounter stimuli along the way—whether that comes in the form of obstacles or assistance—they will react or respond in some way that aligns with their goal and all the things they think and feel and believe and understand and misunderstand.

Which is a complicated way of saying, you can put yourself in the shoes of any character in your story, think about what they want, think about the context that came before now, and think about how they feel about what’s happening right now.

And when you tap into that empathy, ask, what will they do next?

Stop the Spinout With One Simple Question

It’s just one question, and it’s deceptively simple.

And yet it has an almost magical power to pull you out of the overanalyzing overwhelm and reconnect you with the heart of your characters and your story.

So by all means, pull out all your favorite story analysis tools and put your story through its structural paces.

But when all that story theory stops leading you to answers and starts spinning you out, pause.

Set it all aside.

Take a deep breath.

Picture your protagonist in all the vivid detail you can.

Step into their shoes, and more than that, into their heart and mind.

Let your empathy for them swell up until you can’t help but weep at the things that make them cry.

Think of everything they’ve gone through before this moment, and all the things they most desperately want and hope for, and all the obstacles they see standing in their way.

And ask: what would they do next?

Take It Further With More Resources

If you’d like to dig deeper into the kind of character development that will help you answer that question, I recommend checking out How to Flesh Out Flat Characters With Just 4 Questions.

And if you need a little reminder to post up next to your computer so you can glance up and see it whenever you need, fill out the form below:

I’ll send these questions straight to your email in a nice pretty doc that’s easy to print and pin up in your space.

I’ve seen these questions help so many writers unlock so many epiphanies—ideas that were sitting right under the surface waiting to be found, and these were just the right questions to surface them.

I hope they do the same for you.

Happy editing!

Refine Your Scenes from GOOD to GREAT

Enter your email, and I'll send you my free Scene Analysis Worksheet. This is the tool I use to edit amazing scenes. Try it and make every page of your novel un-put-down-able!

Awesome! Now go check your email for your worksheet!