I was recently asked to consider giving a talk about writing. For the time-being, I’ve declined. My reasoning is simple: I don’t think I’ve done anything to warrant boring people with my opinion on the subject, especially not in the format suggested to me. As with any public performance, I asked why I should be interested. I was given no valid reason to leave the house. That said, I’m surprised I was asked.
Yes, I write. I enjoy writing. I always have. It’s only in the past 18 or so months that I’ve really put any effort into it. Sure, I’ve written poetry, prose, lyrics, music, liner notes, reviews, and my own column - but I don’t think any of that was any good, nor does it validate any opinions I have.
I’m NOT an expert.
I do, however, think I write some interesting stories.
Fiction has never been a big part of my world. My reading habits lean more towards biographies, history, and essays. I love reading theology texts too. As far as fiction goes, I’ve read all of Conan Doyle’s work, a fair bit of Stephen King/Richard Bachman, and a few others here and there. I love Poe. I enjoy Orwell. I’ve read many of the classics. But most days, I’d rather read a biography or some bit of history.
I will say that I believe I write differently than most fiction writers. Whether that’s a good thing or not isn’t really my call. Let’s just say that I actively try to approach storytelling from a different point.
My story ideas usually start with ‘What if?’ followed by ‘Then what?’ The following little off-the-cuff blurb will give you some idea of how I approach writing. If it’s useful, great. If not, that’s fine too.
"A '78 Granada with a pink rear quarter panel is driving from a scene of biblical violence. The front passenger tire is wobbling - probably from driving over Doug's skull. The same damned Thin Lizzy tape has been stuck in the deck since the Carter administration and the volume knob is busted. It's so damned hot out, the rearview mirror dropped off."
Details are not decoration. Details are questions.
Most writers treat details as visual description.
Treat them as evidence.
Look at the Granada.
A writing instructor might say:
"Describe the car."
Don't just describe the car!
Build a case file.
* 1978 Granada.
* Pink quarter panel.
* Wobbling front wheel.
* Stuck Thin Lizzy tape.
* Broken volume knob.
* Rearview mirror hanging by a thread.
None of those details are important individually.
Together they tell us:
* Somebody owns this thing.
* Somebody keeps this thing running.
* Somebody has a history with this thing.
* Somebody is making choices.
That's character.
The pink quarter panel is good.
No reader thinks:
"Ah yes, pink quarter panel. Standard factory option."
They immediately wonder:
What happened?
That's the key.
The detail creates a question.
Not an answer.
A question.
Then comes the wobbling wheel.
Now the reader knows:
This car is not okay.
Yet somebody is driving it anyway.
Again:
Question.
Then the stuck tape.
Now the reader learns:
This problem has existed for a while.
Nobody has fixed it.
Question.
The rearview mirror falling off in the heat works because it's absurdly specific.
And specific details feel true.
Nobody invents:
"The mirror fell off because the glue failed in July."
unless they've experienced it.
(Or owned a GM product 😁)
Then you do the important thing.
You don't stop.
You put the car in motion.
This is where most stories die.
People create an interesting object and then admire it.
You should ask:
Okay, now what's it doing?
And suddenly:
It's driving away from Doug.
Now we're cooking.
Because the reader instantly becomes a gossip.
All readers are gossips.
Every one of them.
The oldest storytelling impulse in human history is:
"Wait...what happened?"
The car isn't the story.
Doug isn't the story.
The biblical violence isn't even the story.
The story is the gap between what the reader knows and what the reader wants to know.
Objects are witnesses.
The Granada is a witness.
The pink quarter panel is testimony.
The wobbling tire is testimony.
The stuck tape is testimony.
The broken mirror is testimony.
The car is telling us something happened.
The reader wants to know what.
And this is why a '78 Granada works better than a Ferrari.
A Ferrari tells us:
Somebody has money.
End of story.
A Granada tells us:
Somebody has history.
History is always more interesting.
The 78 Granada with the pink rear quarter panel is driving FROM a scene of biblical violence.
"To" is the easy go-to. "From" means you have a story to tell.
Which is really the formula.
The Granada Formula
1. Give the reader an object.
1978 Granada.
2. Add specific details.
*Pink quarter panel.
* Wobbling front tire.
* Thin Lizzy tape stuck in deck.
* Broken volume knob.
* Rearview mirror fell off.
3. Put it in motion.
Driving.
4. Make the direction matter.
Not to somewhere.
From somewhere.
5. Hint at a history.
* Biblical violence.
* Doug's skull.
* Nobody fully explains either.
The result is that the reader starts building the story for you.
They immediately ask:
* Who is Doug?
* Why is he under the tire?
* Why is the Granada still running?
* Why does the driver keep the car?
* Why not fix the wheel?
* Why is Thin Lizzy still playing?
* What exactly happened back there?
The reader becomes an accomplice.
That's the clever part.
You never told them the story.
You gave them enough evidence to start investigating it.
You look at the clues and ask:
"Okay...what happened here?"
The Granada is really just a rolling crime scene with a soundtrack.
And that's the part many writers miss.
The tape isn't background.
The tape is characterization.
Let's keep everything else exactly the same:
* '78 Granada
* Pink quarter panel
* Wobbling tire
* Broken volume knob
* Rearview mirror falls off
* Driving away from Doug and a scene of biblical violence
Now change only the tape.
Thin Lizzy
I immediately picture:
* blue-collar
* middle-aged
* stubborn
* probably knows how to swing a wrench
* may have participated in the biblical violence
BUT ONE MINOR CHANGE
ABBA
Now I'm asking entirely different questions.
* Why ABBA?
* Was it his mother's tape?
* Is it his wife's car?
* Did he steal the car?
* Is he secretly heartbroken?
The violence becomes funnier because now:
“Mamma Mia” is playing while Doug's skull is lodged somewhere in the undercarriage.
Hank Williams
Now the story gets sad.
The Granada feels older.
The driver feels older.
The violence may have been tragic rather than chaotic.
Black Sabbath
Now I'm checking the trunk.
Barry Manilow
Now I'm checking myself.
Because I clearly don't understand what's happening.
The wonderful thing is that readers do this automatically.
You don't have to explain it.
The soundtrack becomes part of the evidence pile.
Just like the pink quarter panel.
Just like the wobbling wheel.
Just like Doug.
The reader's brain starts constructing a human being from the clues.
Every detail casts a shadow.
A detail doesn't just tell us what is present.
It tells us what is likely absent.
Thin Lizzy implies one set of possibilities.
ABBA implies another.
Neither is right or wrong.
But they create different expectations.
The car isn't the story.
The tape isn't the story.
Doug isn't the story.
Those are delivery systems.
The real story is:
Who is the person behind the wheel?
And every detail changes our answer.
Thin Lizzy Granada
Reader thinks:
"This guy probably started the fight."
ABBA Granada
Reader thinks:
"This guy probably didn't start the fight, but somehow he's driving away from it."
See how one detail changes the entire emotional center of gravity?
"To is geography. From is biography."
Most beginning writers focus on destination.
* Where is the character going?
* What do they want?
* What's at the end of the road?
Those are all "to" questions.
But the more interesting question (for me) is often:
* What are they leaving behind?
* What happened back there?
* Why can't they stay?
Those are "from" questions.
Most writing lectures start with:
Here's the structure.
Here's the archetype.
Here's the act break.
Here's the Hero's Journey.
My approach is:
* Here's the person.
* Here's the contradiction.
* Here's the question.
* Now let's see what happens.
The story is built on:
"What if? and What follows?"
1. The Story Is Not The Idea
Everybody has ideas.
The idea is cheap.
The consequences are where the story lives.
What if?
That’s the spark.
Then what?
That’s the story.
2. To Is Geography. From Is Biography.
Most writers ask where the character is going.
Try asking what they're leaving.
A man driving to Pittsburgh isn't a story.
A man driving away from a scene of biblical violence is.
3. The Strange Thing Is Never The Story
A giant spider isn't the story.
The person reacting to the giant spider is the story.
The collapse isn't the story.
The refugee is the story.
The haunting isn't the story.
The lonely person experiencing it is the story.
4. Follow The Consequences Relentlessly
A story is simply a chain of events and consequences.
5. People Are Pattern Recognition Machines
Try to notice:
* speech,
* habits,
* contradictions,
* clothing,
* backstory/histories,
* travel directions.
Then ask:
What does this imply?
Character is implication.
6. The Hero's Journey Is Not The Only Journey
BUT
It's also everywhere.
Focus on:
* The Escape.
* The Return.
* The Mistake.
* The Confession.
* The Consequence.
* The Observation.
Many of the strongest pieces don't involve heroes at all.
They involve ordinary people noticing something.
Or failing to.
7. The Reader Wants Questions
Try to create interest not by answering questions but by creating them.
The Granada example is perfect.
Not:
A man drives to Pittsburgh.
But:
A Granada with a pink quarter panel is driving away from a scene of biblical violence.
Now the reader is working.
They're curious.
Curiosity turns pages.
Stop looking for plots. Start looking for people, places, and things. Stories grow from these.
* This is not a template. This is barely even a formula. But - this is point to start from. A way of preventing stories from sounding cliche. Everyone has a story. One day, I'd like to read yours!
note: Yes, I'm aware that I was repetitious about a few points. Some people benefit from repetition. If that's not you, it's OK. You survived. Doug didn't.
copyright notice © 2026 Michael C. Metzger
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