February 28, 2026
Hello,
I find one of the best ways to learn how to do something better is to watch someone do it badly. Picking out flaws in technique makes me think about how I could be doing it better.
For example, when I’m on the ski lift and I watch a skier speeding down below, I like to analyze how they turn. The excellent skiers do everything so smoothly that it’s difficult to ascertain exactly how they do it.
But those who are still figuring it out make errors I can see. If they skid instead of edging, it reminds me that I have to keep my skis on edge. If they let their hands get behind, I can see how much it throws them off balance.
It’s the same with writing.
It’s worthwhile reading a writer who is honing their craft. The fault-lines are easier to find. I’m reading a book that’s following a cookie-cutter plot. Things go well. Things go badly. Things go well again.
There’s an obvious bad guy, whose evil is telegraphed early and often. There’s a protagonist who’s special in a way they don’t yet understand, supported by a loyal best friend and complicated by unwanted responsibility. Each obstacle appears at exactly the moment the story needs momentum, and each victory arrives just in time to prevent real consequences.
Nothing is wrong, exactly—but because the structure is so familiar, the seams show.
Because the beats are so predictable, it’s easy to see where tension is manufactured instead of earned. Consequences rarely linger. Characters behave as the plot requires rather than as people might. Like the skier skidding instead of carving, the technique works—but it’s inefficient, and once you see it, you can’t unsee it.
And that’s the real value of reading this kind of story: not to sneer at it, but to notice where the balance wobbles, where the edges slip, and where a smoother, more deliberate turn might make all the difference.
One could never accuse Aidan of following someone else’s instructions. His plots are roller-coaster rapid in the unexpectedness of the swerves. One minute you are climbing to a peak and the next, you are plummeting down, before howling around a corner.
Even though I am the one who brings it all to life—and I know what’s going to happen—I am thrown every time I re-read.
That’s what makes it fun.
Happy reading.
Warm regards,
Paula Baker (and Aidan Davies)
P.S. Get Discoverynow.
Thanks for reading Chainmail & Chapters: Storycraft! This post is public so feel free to share it.