From the SRP Editor blog:
Know your hero’s journey before you start typing — unless you like rewriting for the rest of your life.
Let’s be honest: writing a novel without knowing your main character’s arc is a bit like driving cross-country with a blindfold on. Sure, you might still get somewhere interesting, but chances are you’ll also end up in a ditch in Nebraska wondering how you got there.
If you’ve ever hit that soggy middle of your book and thought, “What the hell do I do with them now?”—this post is for you.
What We Mean by “Character Arc”
Your protagonist’s arc is the emotional and psychological journey they take from the first page to the last. It’s how they change—or refuse to change—because of the story’s events.
Every story worth reading is about change. A character starts out believing one thing about themselves or the world, and by the end, they’ve either learned better or doubled down on the lie.
That’s the internal conflict.
The external conflict is what happens outside your character—the plot, the antagonists, the car chases, the dragons, the awkward family dinners. External conflict creates the pressure that forces internal change.
When you understand both arcs and how they intertwine, writing the actual story gets about ten times easier.
The Internal Arc: The Lie and the Truth
The heart of the internal arc is the lie your character believes at the start of the story.
- I’m not good enough.
- If I let anyone close, I’ll get hurt.
- Power equals safety.
Whatever it is, that lie drives their decisions, colors how they see the world, and makes them behave in wonderfully flawed ways.
Over the course of the story, your external events (that pesky plot again) should keep hammering away at that lie until they either see the truth—or crash and burn refusing to.
For example:
- Sarah Connor in The Terminator begins as an average woman who doesn’t believe she’s capable of surviving a nightmare. Her journey isn’t just about fighting a killer robot—it’s about realizing she’s stronger than she ever thought possible.
- In Breaking Bad, Walter White starts with the lie that he’s doing everything “for his family.” By the end, the truth comes out: he did it for himself. That’s a negative arc, but it’s still a complete one.
Knowing that internal destination—how your character changes or refuses to—gives every scene a purpose. Each moment becomes a stepping-stone in that transformation.
The External Arc: The Plot Engine
The external arc is the visible story: what happens to your protagonist. It’s the gauntlet of events you hurl at them to test their mettle and force growth.
If the internal arc is emotional evolution, the external arc is the crucible that makes it happen. Without it, your story becomes therapy notes with dialogue.
Think of your external arc as the obstacle course designed specifically to challenge your character’s internal flaw.
If your character believes they can’t trust anyone, throw them into a situation where trusting someone is the only way to survive.
If they think power equals safety, take that power away and see what’s left.
The stronger the conflict between what they believe and what they need to learn, the more satisfying the payoff.
How Internal and External Arcs Work Together
When writers talk about “integrated storytelling,” this is what they mean: every external event should reflect or challenge your protagonist’s internal state.
- The inciting incident forces them out of their comfort zone.
- The progressive complications increase the pressure, exposing the weakness in their worldview.
- The crisis forces a choice that pits their lie against the truth.
- The climax shows which side wins.
- The resolution demonstrates the change (or tragic failure to change).
That’s not just scene structure—that’s story structure.
When you plan both arcs in tandem, you know exactly what every scene is for. You’re not just writing random stuff that happens—you’re deliberately moving your character toward transformation.
Why Planning the Arc Saves You (and Your Sanity)
Let’s face it: writing blind is exhausting. You’ll rewrite endlessly, trying to “find” your character’s journey after the fact. That’s like remodeling a house while living in it—possible, but miserable.
When you start your first draft already knowing where your character begins and ends, you can make smarter choices all the way through:
- You’ll know which scenes matter and which are fluff.
- You’ll recognize when you’re drifting off-course.
- You’ll write tighter, more emotionally resonant prose because you know what the story means.
That doesn’t mean you have to outline every beat down to the semicolon (unless that’s your happy place). But at the very least, know:
- Who your character is at the beginning.
- Who they’ll be at the end.
- What needs to happen to push them from A to B.
Everything else flows from there.
A Final Word (and a Challenge)
Before you dive into your next story—or the next draft of your current one—take a few minutes to sketch out your protagonist’s internal and external arcs.
Ask yourself:
- What lie do they believe?
- What truth must they learn?
- What’s going to happen that forces that change?
Once you can answer those, congratulations—you’ve got the heart of your story. The rest is just writing.
And editing. And rewriting. And occasionally crying into your coffee. But at least now, you’ll know why you’re crying.
Editor’s Note: If you’re struggling to pin down your protagonist’s internal or external arc, try writing a one-paragraph summary for each that covers where they start, the key challenges they face, and how they change by the end. It’s a simple exercise that will make the rest of your story infinitely easier to write—and much more satisfying to read.
–Mark
