“The most important part of a story is the piece of it you don’t know.”
– Barbara Kingsolver
In this article, I’ll look at the essential parts of a story and explore what makes a strong beginning, a compelling middle that builds in meaning, and finally, an ending that leads to a transformation for your protagonist. And lastly, I’ll give you a Story Weapon to keep your story focused as you move through each part.
Deliver a satisfying ending by understanding the parts of a story. The beginning, the middle, and the end are descriptors — not rigid checkpoints to labor through mechanically. When you follow the dilemma of your protagonist, a more organic path through the story begins to reveal itself.
The beginning
The first act of your story is all about setting the scene. This is where you establish the world, introduce the main characters and dramatize the protagonist’s dilemma.
The reader needs to care about the characters in order for the plot to become engaging. The more effectively you establish the world, the more invested your reader will be in the outcome.
- Your first goal should be to introduce the main characters (unless you have a reason to reveal someone important later) so that we can become engaged in their struggle.
- Your second goal is to provide a sense of place. Are we in Verona, or a galaxy far far away? Does your story take place in an urban setting, or are we in a remote outpost off the coast of Newfoundland?
- The third goal is to introduce your readers to the reason the story exists. Stories unfold because the protagonist is struggling with a dilemma. A dilemma is a problem that can’t be solved without creating a new problem. In every story, the theme is dramatized as a dilemma for the protagonist. And so, by establishing the dilemma, you are providing the engine that is driving the narrative.
Once you have your characters introduced, the world established, and a dilemma at the heart of the story, you’re ready to start the quest. This might sound like a lot — that’s because it is, but trust your readers. They’ll pick up on things fast. With all of the pieces in place, the story can unfold.
Let’s take a look at a familiar example to see how a beginning is written: the story of Harry Potter.
What do we see at the start of the first book? An introduction to a world of magic. There’s a lot for the reader to learn. There are broomsticks and magic wands, stories told through whispers about the protagonist’s parents and his scar, and a baby left on a doorstep by three mysterious figures.
We see the abuse Harry has had to endure at the hands of his “family.” Then the letters come, addressed to the boy who lives under the stairs. Those letters captivated the imaginations of so many readers, wishing and hoping to get their own.
There’s a whole cast of wizards and witches to meet in the first book. We step into Diagon Alley, Platform 9 ¾, and Hogwarts for the first time, and learn more about the evil that Harry will have to face.
We also experience Harry’s dilemma. He has been so indoctrinated into believing that he is deserving of mistreatment, that it is almost impossible to believe that he is the chosen one. While he desires to be free of his miserable existence, he must face the possibility that he may not survive his new life as a wizard.
The first book as a whole also serves as an introduction to the rest of the series. The stakes are lower; we never really leave the school grounds, and Dumbledore keeps an eye on things (sort of).
The middle
While you want to keep your story lean and exciting, you must not rush the middle as there is a lot to unpack here.
As the story advances in the second act, your protagonist leaves the ordinary world of act one for the extraordinary world. Here the story loses some of its innocence and we apprehend the gravity of the situation the protagonist is facing. Early in act they often win a few battles and their goal seems within reach. In When Harry Met Sally, it appears the two are becoming best friends. In the film, Rocky, he is beginning to fall in love with Adrian and starting to feel worthy of love.
The middle is where an event happens and the protagonist responds by doubling down on their goal. This is often called the point of no return. And this is where the protagonist experiences temptation between what they want and what they need — thus, keeping your reader or audience connected to the dilemma.
As the second act progresses, your protagonist reaches a point of suffering. This is where they may consider giving up. They have struggled and come this far, but now they are questioning whether it was worth it, and if they will be able to achieve their goal. In the face of overwhelming odds, do they learn a new technique or method? Do they abandon their code of honor and learn to live in the gray world between good and evil? Do they seek more allies, more power, a new approach? Are they tempted to give in or cut corners?
And finally, the end of the second act is where your protagonist surrenders. They must let go of the meaning they have made out of their goal. They recognize the impossibility of ever getting what they want based on their current identity or current approach. And thus, they reframe their relationship to getting what they want, and they must begin to pursue what they need.
In the Harry Potter series, the length of the books gives us plenty of middle ground to explore. We get to poke in the nooks and crannies of the wizarding world as Harry gains new allies, learns about magic, and comes to understand what he’s really up against. The stakes increase with each chapter, and Harry’s resolve against Voldemort strengthens as a result.
In the series overall, we’re introduced to complexities both in the world and in the characters that make the story more human and real. Romantic tensions arise and dissipate. It turns out house elves need a revolution of their own, and there are other wizarding schools in the mix. The world expands as Harry does, all preparing him for the third act.
The end
In the third act, the protagonist takes action. They have become a new person as a result of their surrender. In letting go, they have stepped into their true power, and they now understand something that they didn’t at the beginning. They are now relating differently to the antagonist’s in the story, and this is the birth of wisdom. They are no longer tied down by their false beliefs. For example, Rocky no longer needs to win to be worthy of love, he simply needs to be willing to go the distance.
The climax is the peak of action in your story. This is sometimes called the battle scene. This is where the protagonist makes a difficult choice between what they want and what they need, thus proving to the gods that they have earned their transformation. The key to remember is that it is a difficult choice. If it was an easy choice, they would have made it in act one.
However the climax plays out, regardless of the fate of the protagonist, the world around them will have changed. Say your protagonist is leading a rebel force. Their victory would mean the fall of an empire. If they’re crushed in the climax, you can explore how the empire would act after the fact. After all, what conqueror can’t put down a rabble rouser or two? Either way, the central dilemma must be resolved for the story to feel satisfying.
Perhaps, like Rocky Balboa, the goal isn’t to win but just to last the whole fight. Maybe the protagonist does need to win, but without the help of their allies. Maybe they’re the only survivor. At the end of it all, take us back to where the story began and show us what’s changed.
This is the battle for Hogwarts and eventually the death of Voldemort. We see Harry face his destiny and his allies put their lives on the line in the name of peace. We lose some people in the battle of Hogwarts and see some incredible acts of heroism. When it’s all said and done, Harry’s scar doesn’t hurt anymore. We’re left with a denemount; a flash forward to Harry, Hermione, and Ron having kids of their own. We end again at the train station to Hogwarts, where the magic all began.
When you’re writing your own story, the end will bring you right back to where you began. And you’ll have changed as a result of writing it. Your characters and world will have changed. The exciting thing is what you learned along the way and what you left behind.
Your story weapon: Follow the dilemma
The beginning, middle, and end are not just structural markers or story chunks you move through in sequence. They employ three completely different relationships between your protagonist and their dilemma.
In the beginning, your protagonist does not yet know the full weight of what they are carrying. They are living inside a false belief. They go about the business of their life, unaware that the story is about to make that belief impossible to sustain. Your job in the beginning is not simply to introduce characters and establish a world. It is to show us who this person is before the story breaks them open.
In the middle, the false belief is under siege. Every scene is another pressure applied to the thing your protagonist is most determined to protect. They try harder, they adapt, they suffer, they almost succeed, and then they finally surrender. The middle is not some filler between a promising start and a satisfying ending. It is where the tension increases and the transformation is earned, one costly scene at a time.
If your middle section feels thin or repetitive, it is almost always because the dilemma is not yet specific enough. Go back to the core of what your protagonist cannot resolve and press harder on it. If the story is still not doing what you need it to do, it may be because you don’t have worthy antagonists. Without a powerful opposing force, there will be no surrender, and without a surrender, there is no transformation.
In the end, the false belief has to go. Not because the protagonist has been defeated, but because they have finally seen something they could not have seen at the start of the story. The climax is a reckoning. And the world your story returns to at the end should be recognizable but changed.
Look at the story arc of your protagonist’s inner life when you start writing a scene. Ask yourself: does this character still believe what they believed at the beginning of the story?
If yes, ask: what is this scene doing to that belief? If no, how did they get here and does the reader feel the cost of that change?
✒️ Writing Exercise
Write for five minutes from your protagonist’s point of view, beginning with: “What I understand at the end that I didn’t understand at the beginning is . . .”
Let the answer come without forcing it toward a conclusion. What you find will show you not just where your story is going but whether the journey between the beginning, middle, and end is earning the transformation you are asking your reader to believe in.
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