Review:  Damn Fine Story by Chuck Wendig

Review:  Damn Fine Story

I have a weakness for books about writing. Sometimes, I wonder if I like learning about the process more than actually, you know, writing. From Rachel Aaron’s 2,000 to 10,000 to Steven Pressfield’s The War of Art to John Truby’s The Anatomy of Story to Natalie Goldberg’s Writing Down the Bones, I’ve built a collection of – I don’t know if they’re exactly instructions but that’s what I’m going to call them – books of writing instruction. These examples are the ones that I most return to as I grind away at the word mill. To this list, I’ve added Chuck Wendig’s Damn Fine Story, if not for the advice within, then definitely for the dapper elk on the cover. Wendig is a busy author. In addition to an active blog dispensing writing advice, he’s wrote books wholly of his own creation and tie-in works for the Star Wars universe and has an ongoing comic series. While I’ve not read any of his fictional work, I frequently visit his blog terribleminds for advice, for humor, and to take comfort that even for a seasoned pro, writing isn’t as easy as it looks. When I saw the opportunity to review Damn Fine Story, I couldn’t pass. As expected, it helped me. The best recommendation that I can give for it is this:  After just a few pages of reading, the advice changed how I viewed a sticky part of my work in progress. Throughout my reading, I found Mr. Wendig’s approach different than other writing instructionals, and this slight shift was enough to make me look at my stories from new angles. In other words, it was immediately helpful and continued to be throughout my reading.

TL;DR: If you want to learn about stories, get this book. Highly recommended.

From the publisher:

What do Luke Skywalker, John McClane, and a lonely dog on Ho‘okipa Beach have in common?

Simply put, we care about them.

Great storytelling is making readers care about your characters, the choices they make, and what happens to them. It’s making your audience feel the tension and emotion of a situation right alongside your protagonist. And to tell a damn fine story, you need to understand why and how that caring happens.

Using a mix of personal stories, pop fiction examples, and traditional storytelling terms, New York Times best-selling author Chuck Wendig will help you internalize the feel of powerful storytelling. In Damn Fine Story, you’ll explore:

  • Freytag’s Pyramid for visualizing story structure – and when to break away from traditional storytelling forms
  • Character relationships and interactions as the basis of every strong plot – no matter the form or genre
  • Rising and falling tension that pulls the audience through to the climax and conclusion of the story
  • Developing themes as a way to craft characters with depth

Whether you’re writing a novel, screenplay, video game, comic, or even if you just like to tell stories to your friends and family over dinner, this funny and informative guide is chock-full of examples about the art and craft of storytelling – and how to write a damn fine story of your own.

Before I started this, my only reviews of writing advice book derived from the answers to two questions. Was it helpful? Was it applicable? Damn Fine Story is both of these, but it distinguishes itself by adding the element of entertainment. The cover of the book shows the seriousness of what follows. Like the very fine elk on the cover, Mr. Wendig’s advice is professional and funny1. While I enjoy writing books, most are there to dispense wisdom and do so in a professorial manner. Damn Fine Story is there to dispense wisdom through comedy, and it works.

Was it helpful? Was it applicable? Yes, and yes. Based on the few pages I read upon opening the book, it helped me. I tried visualizing my story in the different structures discussed. It was a fun exercise that helped me understand more of what I was telling by learning how bad the story would be in other forms. Many times, I would try to look at my story through whatever I was reading in Mr. Wendig’s book. This shifted my perspective on what I was actually putting on paper. That is the true strength of this book. Sure, you will learn about story, but the biggest benefit is that Damn Fine Story helps you think deeper about your own story. That can only be a positive even if you learn that you have many, many changes to make. Like I did. Curse you, Wendig! ::petulantly shakes fist:: Thank you, Wendig, as well. Hopefully, when I’m done, the many, many, many changes will make the story, the novel, better2.

If you’re looking for a book that details a page-by-page mechanical plot or a recipe for the next New York Times bestseller3, then you’ve come to the wrong place. This guide is focused on character, and all the other aspects of story grow from there. Examples abound in Damn Fine Story that make Mr. Wendig’s argument. While he will dissect aspects of story in this book, the main focus always comes back to the story’s characters. But it’s not quite as simple as make a great character and the rest takes care of itself. You’ll have to read to understand. It’ll be worth it, and at the end, you’ll make new friends4.

On a personal note, chapter five is my favorite because it tackled a subject with which I regularly struggle:  Theme! Enough? Too much? Consistent with the story? I struggle, struggle, struggle. This chapter helped. It didn’t fix my problems because Mr. Wendig isn’t a miracle worker, much to my disappointment. However, the ideas in this chapter are worth studying and will inform my work.

If you’re a writer, check out this book. Buy it. Get your library to buy it and then check it out. Read it. Get better. Write your own Damn Fine Story.


1. Also, that’s how I imagine Mr. Wendig writes: in a suit, tie, monocle, and elk head. Whether the elk head is a mask or not is too personal a question to ask.

2. So far, I’m enjoying the changes more, which I guess is something. If I’m not enjoying it, how can I expect anyone else will?’

3. Such a recipe, regardless of genre, would always end with “add a heavy dose of sales.”

4. This is not a guarantee or realistic expectation for the outcome of reading a writing manual.