Excessive Backstory
Backstory is undeniably crucial—it forms the foundation of your characters and their journey. It’s the backbone of why you’re telling the story in the first place. However, my biggest pet peeve is when backstory is dumped onto the page in large, unwieldy chunks. Imagine encountering pages of exposition detailing a character’s life history right at the start—it’s overwhelming and detracts from the narrative flow.
Instead, backstory should be introduced organically, woven into the current context of the story. Ask yourself: What does my reader need to know in this specific moment to understand the scene I’m writing? Focus on what’s relevant. For instance, if your character is in the middle of a bar fight, it might be the right time to mention their physical prowess or a past encounter that mirrors the present situation. But it’s not the time to delve into their romantic history or what they ate for breakfast last week (unless, of course, that somehow ties into the fight!).
By staying grounded in the moment and revealing backstory only as it serves the plot, you’ll maintain your readers’ engagement and ensure a smoother storytelling experience.
Character Archetypes
Character archetypes—like those derived from personality systems such as MBTI or the Enneagram—can be a helpful starting point for writers. They provide a basic framework to begin shaping a character’s identity. However, relying solely on archetypes often leads to flat, predictable characters that lack the nuance and depth needed to truly engage readers.
The problem? Archetypes can give the illusion of depth while keeping your character trapped in a mold we’ve seen countless times. Real people aren’t one-dimensional or static; neither should your characters be. Life experiences shape and reshape us over time, and the same should hold true for the people populating your story.
Instead of stopping at “he’s the rebellious loner” or “she’s the nurturing caregiver,” dig deeper. Ask yourself: Why is this character like this? What events in their past shaped their personality? What are their contradictions, their quirks, their hidden desires?
The trick is to use an archetype as a launchpad, not a destination. Keep peeling back the layers of your character’s personality and history to uncover a fully-realized person with authentic motivations and growth. This approach ensures your characters are unique, relatable, and unpredictable—in the best way possible.
Plot For The Sake of Plot
Nothing makes a story feel more lifeless than a plot crammed with unnecessary twists, conflicts, and events. Some writers fall into this trap because they fear their story isn’t exciting enough or worry readers will get bored. Ironically, it’s this relentless overloading of plot beats that often makes a book dull or even exhausting to read.
Here’s the truth: a story with minimal plot but strong, engaging characters can hold a reader’s attention far better than an action-packed narrative devoid of emotional depth. Readers connect with characters—their struggles, choices, and growth. If you’re constantly bombarding your characters with events but failing to give them space to process, react, and evolve, the story starts to feel hollow.
Think of your narrative as a balance of action and reaction. Every plot event (action) should allow for a meaningful response (reaction) from your characters. This breathing room gives readers insight into the characters’ emotional landscape and lets them invest in the journey. Character development isn’t just a nice bonus—it’s the backbone of a compelling story.
So, don’t mistake throwing more and more plot at the wall as a substitute for substance. Instead, focus on how your characters experience and navigate the events in their lives. It’s not about what happens but how it happens and what it means to your characters that truly keeps readers hooked.
Fear
One of the most frustrating things I come across as an editor is spotting a story with incredible potential buried under the weight of the writer’s hesitation. Fear—not the kind that keeps a writer from finishing their work, but the kind that stops them from diving headfirst into the raw, messy, and transformative parts of their story—is a subtle but significant obstacle.
Often, I encounter manuscripts where the foundation for something extraordinary is already there. The foreshadowing is masterful, the setup brimming with promise, yet the story shies away from fully exploring its most compelling elements. It’s as if the writer is dancing around the topics or moments that could make their work stand out, unsure whether to take the leap.
This hesitation is understandable—diving into the gritty, emotional depths of a story is daunting. But that’s where the magic happens. Those moments where you tackle the hard, uncomfortable, or even heartbreaking truths head-on are the ones that resonate most deeply with readers.
If you’ve laid the groundwork for a dramatic twist, a devastating revelation, or a gut-wrenching scene, don’t hold back. Let it unfold. Allow your characters to endure significant challenges, and let the full emotional weight of those moments hit the page. You’ll be amazed at how much richer and more dynamic your story becomes when you stop skirting around the edges and embrace the depth that’s waiting to be uncovered.
Take the plunge—your story will thank you for it.
Easily Resolved Conflict
Another disappointing things a story can do is introduce conflict only to resolve it immediately or without meaningful consequences. It leaves readers wondering, Why did that even happen? When a character faces a dramatic challenge—whether it’s danger, heartbreak, or tension—and then emerges unscathed just a few pages later, the entire moment feels hollow.
This kind of "conflict without consequence" diminishes the stakes of your story. It signals to the reader that no matter what happens, everything will return to normal too quickly. Why should they invest emotionally if they know nothing lasting will come of it?
For example, think of a fight between two characters. If they’re back to being best friends three sentences later with no lingering tension or changes to their relationship, the fight feels pointless. Or consider when a character survives a life-threatening event but shows no scars, no trauma, no ripple effects from the experience. It’s as though the plot is checking off boxes instead of building a meaningful narrative arc.
A personal (and slightly exasperated) example comes from Bridgerton Season 2—spoiler warning ahead! In the final episodes, Kate falls off her horse, hits her head, and slips into a coma. This could have been a pivotal moment for the story, with real stakes and emotional turmoil. Instead, she wakes up in the very next episode, and everything quickly resumes its path to a happy ending.
Imagine how much more impactful it could have been if the show had fully explored the repercussions of her accident—Kate’s recovery, the strain on her relationship with Anthony, and the unspoken tension as the characters grapple with the uncertainty of her survival. Instead, the resolution felt rushed, undercutting what could have been a powerful turning point.
The lesson here is clear: if you introduce conflict, commit to it. Let it have a lasting impact on your characters and their world. Give them time to process, react, and grow from the experience. Deliver on the emotional and narrative promises that conflict brings, and your readers will stay invested in your story’s journey.
Char Anna
Char is the author of the writing guide ‘Finish Your First Novel’ and the founder of The Plottery. She’s been in the biz since 2021, and holds a BA in Film & Screenwriting as well as an MA in Creative Writing from Edinburgh Napier University.
Char resides in rainy Scotland with her pup Lavender (who is anything but calm, contrary to what her name suggests), and she writes darker fiction that focuses on unusual family dynamics and lots of queerness.
