#wrtiers

I touched a bit on this explanation in my previous post about Premise here, but it bears repeating.

A well-crafted Premise will do two things:

1. Present questions to the reader without having to ask a single one

2. Pique their curiosity to the point where they need the answers to those questions

The Promise of The Premise will be how you, the writer, fulfill these two things. And yes, there is a wrong way to do this. First, I want to clarify how we identify the Promises in The Premise.

Here's an example Premise:

A witch whose magic constantly misfires accidentally summons the most terrifyingly tempting Alpha werewolf to rule the US in order to save magical families being hunted by a demon.

We've fulfilled the four requirements here. We have a witch (The Protagonist) whose magic constantly misfires (something unique) accidentally summons the most terrifyingly tempting Alpha werewolf to rule the US (the crisis) in order to save magical families being hunted by a demon (the goal).

Just by a few key words, you can tell what kind of book this might be, or the genre/sub-genre this story is in.

Take a guess. Read the premise over again and write it down or remember it.

Do you know?

It's a fantasy romance. (Duh, I write romances.)

Fantasy for the witches, werewolves and magic. Romance for the "terrifyingly tempting" description of the Alpha werewolf. We have two promises we already need to fulfill here. Subconsciously, the reader will expect some kind of magical adventure and our witch is going to be tempted by this werewolf's hotness.

Now, keep in mind, you're not just trying to hook every single reader out there. And this Premise isn't meant to hook someone who's looking to read a mystery or sci-fi. This Premise is built to hook romance readers. And trust me, readers know what to look for.

If you've ever been fishing, you don't just go to any ol' body of water, throw your bait in with whatever fishing rod you got and hope to catch something good. There's some planning involved. There's a particular fish you're after and it's your job to know what kind of bait, hook and rod to use. If you don't, you may be catching fish you don't want or worse - no fish at all.

This is why crafting your Premise a certain way is important to the genre of the story you're writing in. 

Most genres have built-in Promises you need to fulfill in order to hook readers in and leave them satisfied. And yes, that's another post for another time.

Right now, what we're going to be focusing on is the concept of The Promise, by using the romance genre as an example.

For a story to be considered a romance, two things are required to happen: Love Conquers All and the book must end with an HEA (Happily Ever After) or an HFN (Happy For Now).

For a story to be considered fantasy, we need to have some sort of, well, fantasy element - we have witches, magic, werewolves and demons. Consistent with this genre, it's also expected that the heroes will save the day from the forces of evil.

Based on these Promises, the reader will automatically expect the following to be fulfilled:

Our witch and werewolf will save these families from the clutches of a demon

The witch and werewolf fall unexpectedly in love

Their love will help them conquer over the forces of evil

And just because the werewolf is "terrifyingly tempting," there may be some naughty scenes between him and our witchy heroine

Through fire and flame, our two heroes will be committed to each other and live in blissful domestication (or if this is Book One, maybe not just yet)

Seems like a lot, yes. But, if you do it right, a lot of these Promises and elements will pull double-triple duty and provide character development, world building, and drive plot. One scene can and should do a multitude of things like foreshadowing, moving plot, upping the stakes, insight to a character’s backstory, etc. 

In the words of Alton Brown, “NO SINGLE USE GADGETS ALLOWED.”

Now, let's address the other Promises you must fulfill. Yes, there's more!

Remember how I said a good Premise will present questions without having to ask a single one? Take a look at this:

A witch whose magic constantly misfires (How did she get like this? Why does it misfire?) accidentally summons (How did she accidentally summon someone?) the most terrifyingly tempting Alpha werewolf to rule the US (Why is he tempting? Is the witch attracted to him? And is he terrifying because he's mean, ruthless, a killer? Why?) in order to save magical families being hunted by a demon (Why is this demon hunting these families? Did these families do something to the demon? What's the reason behind the attack?).

All of these questions aren't just questions to leave the reader in a state of suspense. Yes, you want to hook readers in but you don't want to deceive them, either.

Honestly, you'll have a mob of upset readers for not answering any of these questions. Even more, if you don't answer these questions with a satisfying answer.

If you promise your readers a terrifyingly tempting Alpha werewolf, he better come through with some hot looks, bedroom talk, and a dominant personality.

If you have a witch whose magic misfires and accidentally summons people she doesn't mean to, then she can't be proficient in magic. But, because she's the heroine, she needs to be capable in a different way that causes the reader cheer her on.

If you have a demon hunting magical families, the demon needs to be big, bad and powerful to murder witches, right? Don't magically make him incapable at the climax because your heroes need the good ending. Your heroes need to find a way to defeat this foe through trial and tribulation because your reader is expecting them to meet the challenge.

Fulfilling The Promise of The Premise will leave your readers both satisfied and wanting more. So, why not give them what they want?

As you're plotting and drafting, keep your Premise in mind. Understand and remember the Promises you need to keep. If you can do that, you're well on your way of being an accomplished writer.

If you have any questions, or comments please feel free to drop them here! My DMs are also open! And as always...

3pm, lecture hall, end of class. 

“Thaliak, a moment, please,” the professor called out. 

Students milled about, collected their belongings, chattered amongst themselves and exited the lecture hall. Many gave pause to glance at Braedyn as they slowly made their way to the front of the room to meet with the instructor. Many glances were made through fluttering eyelashes and flushed faces, while others were made with contorted grimaces.

The Elezen, formally known as Thaliak, had an infamous reputation at The Studium for being one of the brightest minds in attendance but never applying any of their natural intelligence. Their peers both loved and loathed them; jealous they could never hope to have a fraction of their scholarly aptitude but also appreciative of when Thaliak offered assistance with coursework. Braedyn—Thaliak—, however, had many reservations about the title bestowed upon them. He approached his professor; they were the only two present in the lecture hall now. 

“Listen, Dr. Logios, I’m sorry about the freak out earlier. It’s just… I don’t want my friends thinking that I think I’m superior because of my residency and stuff,” Braedyn started. “The ‘Thaliak’ thing is super embarrassing and alienates me from my peers, y’know?”

The tall, mid-50s Elezen woman with silver hair tied into a bun adjusted her glasses. “Unfortunately, the fate of this Star does not care for the opinion of our ‘friends’, Thaliak. I know your research has revealed this to you.” She sat at her desk and gave them a knowing look. 

Braedyn sighed and placed themself on a desk opposite Dr. Logios, legs crossed. “Yeah, and it sucks. But you’ve gotta understand that I’m still young and just wanna have fun! I always do the work I’m give—”

“The fate of this Star does not care for your ‘fun’.” The professor’s biting words stung with every syllable. 

Braedyn knew that he couldn’t waste time being a person—the Final Days were upon all of mankind. Being the one to discover that the Star would be met with such a volatile fate held an unbearable weight that he wanted to rid himself of. Nobody ever asked them how they fared, nor how they came to the conclusion that an apocalypse was imminent. No, instead, the Sharlayan scholars did as they always did when new or contradictory information was revealed: scrutinise. Those same scholars claimed they were “studying” and “hypothesising”. 

Braedyn sighed. “Leave me alone, dude. I’m sick and tired of being sick and tired. I don’t want to preserve Sharlayan or Elpis. I just want to exist, okay?”

“I can understand your conflicting dichotomy bu–”

“No! You don’t understand! You put the weight of the world on my shoulders and expected me to agree to playing hero. I can’t do this anymore!,” Braedyn shouted. “I’m not your puppet! Let me study on my own terms!”

Dr. Logios sighed, shoulders finally relaxing. She carefully removed her glasses and pinched the bridge of her nose before speaking. “Do you know why you were given the title of ‘Thaliak’, Braedyn?”

The young Elezen’s ears twitched upon hearing their name. “To assert dominance by stripping me of my original identity and forming me to your will?,” he teased. Dr. Logios was not amused; she cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, no, I don’t. When you chose me to be your assistant and student resident you, and the other Forum members, kinda just unanimously thrust ‘Thaliak’ upon me.”

“The title is derived from the words ‘thal’ and ‘iak’. Their etymology leads us to believe they mean ‘perhaps’ and ‘medicine’, respectively. You are an enigma, child, so ‘perhaps’ seemed fitting. As for ‘iak’: we noticed you have a natural aptitude towards healing magicks,” Dr. Logios explained. “We noticed your potential and have bestowed upon you the honour of being one of The Twelve.”

Braedyn’s back straightened and they furrowed their brows, head tilted slightly. He never realised how much his professor, and her colleagues, actually cared about him—or his research contributions, at least. Knowing that his value was contingent on his academic contributions didn’t sit well with Braedyn. However, holding a seat on The Twelve’s Council was encouraging, to say the least. 

“Tell me, again, about The Twelve. I was briefed, but, uh… yeah, that explanation was brief, heh,” they responded. 

Dr. Logios nodded. “Of course. You have the right to know. The Twelve’s Council—better known as ‘The Twelve’—are Twelve individuals (a.n. Nald’Thal will be explained later) who have showcased exceptional aptitude to a pillar or facet of mankind. For example, you have been crowned ‘Thaliak’ for your contributions to medicine, medical research and the scholarly arts. Similarly, your colleague ‘Byregot’ has developed new methods for building and crafting products that will sustain future generations.”

“And Nophica has figured out progressive methods of agriculture, right?”

“Please do give her more credit, but yes, that is correct,” Dr. Logios responded curtly. “And you do remember when the first Council meeting will be held, correct? And you will be in attendance?”

Braedyn’s visage broke out in a nervous smile. They did not remember, or rather, did not care to remember when the meeting would commence. He was actually hoping to avoid the aforementioned meeting and conduct personal research in Elpis. Sitting in a stuffy room, at a round table, with strangers, did not appeal to Braedyn. They would much rather prefer to be surrounded by prototype Concepts and the ethereal flora of Elpis. 

“Yeah, totally.” He waved a hand nonchalantly, signifying that he did not want to be pressed further. “I remember when it’s gonna happen.” 

This was not a complete lie. While Braedyn did not care to remember when the Council meeting would commence, their superior memory retention betrayed them; they knew the meeting would be held in four days’ time. He purposefully avoided his superior’s question of attendance and hoped she would not notice this tactical evasion. 

“Thaliak, I’m a Forum member and researcher by trade. Listening and debating are my lifeblood. Please answer my question about your attendance. Please stop cutting corners—and dodging behind them while you’re at it.”