When you’re a new writer, it’s natural to ask, “What are the rules?”
Interestingly enough, if you search the internet or ask a few fellow writers, you’re likely to get a mixed bag of answers. Some might rattle off a list they know by heart. Others will tell you there are none, because following rules restricts your creativity. Neither answer is entirely right or wrong.
The important thing to know is that writing rules don’t exist to dictate every decision you make. Writing is there to communicate your stories and ideas to your readers. Writing rules are there to help you convey those ideas more clearly. When you understand why certain rules exist, you’ll be better able to decide for yourself whether it applies to your story or not.
In this article, I’ll look at some rules used in writing, why they might feel limiting, and why understanding them matters. Lastly, I’ll give you a Story Weapon to expand your knowledge of storytelling.
Writing rules aren’t fixed laws so much as observations that solve recurring problems, so their value comes from understanding why they exist rather than memorizing them. Guidelines like “show, don’t tell” are questions in disguise, not absolutes, and writers develop stronger instincts by reading widely, writing regularly, and asking why a scene worked or didn’t. Knowing when to bend or break a rule matters more than knowing the rule itself.
Strict rules or guidelines?
Some rules are objective and are there for practical reasons. Things like spelling, grammar, formatting, or understanding copyright, intellectual property, and publisher requirements all help writers convey and share their ideas more clearly and professionally. These rules aren’t about your creativity.
On the other hand, there are some other “rules” and writing advice that you’ll learn from books, workshops, online discussions, and fellow writers.
- Show, don’t tell.
- Avoid adverbs like the plague.
- Never start with the weather.
- Make time to write every day.
Many writers have applied these rules to their work, found that they help, and used them consistently to solve certain problems. That’s how these observations become “rules” in the first place. But like any observation or technique, they will be useful in some situations, while being potentially counter-productive on others.
That’s why simply knowing a rule won’t always help you. It’s more important to understand why it exists in the first place.
Don’t wait until you know every rule
Writers don’t need to know every rule and guideline before they start. The instinct is understandable. Of course, we all want to write well, but learning how to craft stories isn’t the same as studying for an exam.
Would you try going over every possible driving scenario before ever sitting behind a wheel? That’s just impossible. Sooner or later, you just have to drive.
Writing works pretty much the same way.
“There are three rules for writing a novel. Unfortunately, nobody knows what they are.”
– W. Somerset Maugham
You won’t really understand the context of a rule until you experience it. So just start writing. As you go along, your story and the obstacles you encounter in crafting it will reveal the questions you need to answer.
Does this scene feel flat?
Does my protagonist’s dialogue sound somewhat unnatural?
Maybe your readers struggle to follow what’s happening on the page.
Once you’ve spotted the issues, you have something real to investigate. You’ll see the problem that “rule” was meant to solve. It’s that context that makes a lesson more meaningful and easier to remember.
Understand the “why”
Writing guidelines emerge when people try to solve a recurring problem. Let’s take the familiar rule that advises us to “show, don’t tell.”
If treated as something absolute, this is where it becomes restrictive. Writers might become afraid to state anything directly. Every simple emotion and detail becomes multiple paragraphs of exposition and lengthy descriptions.
But that isn’t the point of this guideline.
The point is to help writers see that readers tend to connect more deeply to a scene when they’re allowed to experience a moment alongside a character rather than just being told about it.
That’s where the difference is. The guideline doesn’t say, “never tell.” It’s asking a question: Would this moment become stronger if the reader experienced it instead?
Almost every rule and piece of writing advice asks a question. Once you understand what that question is, you’ll be able to answer it however you feel your story needs.
When rules become cages
There’s so much writing advice out there, it can be hard to remember we are making art, and that there truly are no rules, only principles.
It can get overwhelming, and instead of helping, all the supposed rules can make you feel anxious. You may start to wonder if what you’re doing, what you’re writing, is “correct.”
It’s easy to reach a point where thinking about writing replaces the time you could have spent actually writing. That kind of pressure makes stories crumble before they’ve had a chance to be written in the first place.
“First, write, Second, write, and Third, write.”
– Mark Twain
To be a writer, you must just start writing. Give yourself permission to write poorly in the first draft, and explore. You can’t improve what doesn’t exist yet. Exploration can help you discover issues or something unexpected.
If you are limited by the fear of breaking a rule, you won’t have any room left to discover. Maybe you’ll find that you can actually bend or break a perceived rule to strengthen your story. Breaking rules is part of writing, too!
Developing your own rules
Strengthening your understanding of storytelling is one of the most valuable things you can do as a writer.
Read widely. Watch movies. Pay attention to the stories that stick with you even after you’ve finished them. And learn story structure. Story structure is not a rule, or a formula. It is a container that, when mastered, will help you to contextualize all of your disparate ideas into a coherent narrative.
Don’t totally disregard the stories that don’t stick either. Exercise your writer’s instincts by dissecting them.
- Why did this scene work?
- Why did I feel satisfied with that ending?
- Why did I end up scrolling through my phone halfway through?
By asking these questions over time, you’ll start noticing patterns, recurring issues, and key moments. Certain techniques and choices achieve specific effects or weaken them.
Gradually, these observations will become integrated into your own personal storytelling principles. These are much more effective than just learning a rule at random, because you discovered them through experience instead.
The more you know, you’ll be able to better understand when a storytelling principle applies and when it doesn’t. Find what works for you and your story.
Your story weapon: Read and learn as you go
If there’s one thing worth taking away from all of this, it’s this: Learning more rules isn’t what matters, understanding them is.
When someone gives you writing advice, or you come across a “rule” online, read it over again and consider why it exists.
- What problem might it be trying to solve?
- Is there a particular effect it’s trying to achieve? What is it?
When you understand those things, you’ll be able to spot the moments when bending, or even breaking the rules, will better serve your story.
The more you expose yourself to different stories and reflect on them, the more confidence you’ll build in making those decisions yourself.
Soon, you won’t ask, “Am I allowed to break these writing rules?” Instead, you can ask a better question: “Is this the right choice for my story?”
One last thing. To be a writer of any kind, means learning to trust yourself. Everyone likes to give advice. When taking advice, most importantly, consider the source.
The best writers are not those who memorize the most rules, but those who understand the principles that make stories work. Every draft is an opportunity to deepen your judgment, strengthen your craft, and make more intentional creative choices. If you’re ready to continue developing those skills, learn more about storytelling craft with my workbooks: The 90-Day Novel, The 90-Day Memoir, or The 90-Day Rewrite.
