Everything in your story has two Whys.
The first is in-story:
Why does this happen in the story?
Why does the character make this choice? Why does the event unfold in this way? Why is this detail here, in this moment? This Why belongs to your characters and your world. It should feel true to them, even if it’s impulsive, foolish, or selfish—because people are impulsive, foolish, and selfish sometimes.
The second is out-of-story:
Why did you, the writer, put it there?
What purpose does it serve in the larger story? Does it reveal character? Build tension? Foreshadow something? Change a relationship dynamic? Or was it just because you thought it was cool? (Which is fine — but if that’s the only reason, make sure it earns its place.)
When the Two Whys Don’t Line Up
Problems appear when these Whys don’t match:
- A character makes a decision only because you need them to (the dreaded “because plot” problem).
- A scene exists only because you loved writing it — but it doesn’t move the story forward.
- A conversation is packed with exposition because you need the reader to know something, even though the characters themselves wouldn’t talk about it that way.
Readers might not consciously spot the mismatch, but they’ll feel it. It’s the difference between being immersed in the story and feeling the writer’s hand pulling the strings.
When the Two Whys Work Together
When the Two Whys align, you get powerful, deliberate storytelling.
- She picks up the old locket—in-story: she’s nostalgic and grieving; out-of-story: you’re planting an emotional anchor for the reveal about who gave it to her.
- The villain spares a minor character—in-story: he owes them a personal debt; out-of-story: you’re adding moral complexity and setting up that character’s return in the climax.
The moment feels inevitable because it’s true to the character and true to the story.
How to Use This in Revision
When you’re drafting, don’t worry about the Two Whys too much. Write the thing. Let it flow.
But when you revise, ask these two questions of every scene, every beat, every significant choice:
- Why does this happen in the story? (Is it natural and true to the characters and world?)
- Why did I put this here? (What does it do for the story?)
If you can’t answer both? Cut it, change it, or make it earn its place.
Because when your Two Whys work together, that’s when your story feels intentional. That’s when it resonates with the reader—even if they never notice why.