
the reason to include both an external and internal content genre in your story.
the core difference between internal and external genre.
the three internal genre types and examples.
“So what’s your book about?”
Oof. Some of you dread that question. If you haven’t taken the time to prepare a clear, concise answer, you might fumble around, take a sip of water, and start spitting out your words in a way you hope makes sense.
“Um . . . it’s an epic fantasy. My main character has this secret power he has to hide from the rest of the world. . . . It’s like, really cool, but I can’t tell you what the power is. You’ll have to read the book.”
“Oh, my story? Yeah. I’ve been working on it for so long. Like seven years. No, hold on. Eight? No, no, seven is right . . .”
“Well, first, my character has to battle the demons that have attacked her village. She gets captured by the head demon, but she’s a mage-in-training, so she fights her way out . . .”
Regardless of how much you fumble to get your pitch right, how many of you tend to place sole emphasis on the external action of your story because you assume that’s what the person you’re speaking with wants to know?
Your external events are important, certainly—but if you don’t give sufficient thought to how those events affect your protagonist’s inner world, you’re missing the opportunity to bring your novel to its full potential.
Quick checkpoint: if you haven’t read last month’s blog post, The Essential Framework to Satisfy Your Readers, I’d encourage you to go back and scan that now. You’ll see the nine overarching categories that an arch-plot (think hero’s journey or the like) falls into: action, horror, crime, performance, society, war, thriller, love, or Western/Eastern. Editor Shawn Coyne labels these categories “external content genres.”
Today, we’ll focus on their counterpart: internal content genres.
(If you’re writing literary fiction, not commercial, this topic is even more crucial because your internal genre will drive the global story. You probably already know your story isn’t driven by action but by internal change.)
What’s the Difference?
Let’s sum up the difference between the content genres:
External content genres address what the protagonist wants (the surface-level goal).
Internal content genres address what the protagonist needs (the learning that must take place for the protagonist to achieve the surface goal).
In arguably the best, most lasting stories, the protagonist irrevocably changes by the end as a direct result of the external events. For your protagonist to emerge victorious (or not) by the finale, their psyche and/or character can no longer match its initial state.
If you can seamlessly weave an external genre with an internal match, you’ll satisfy readers on a deep, emotional level.

Shawn Coyne gives three categories of internal content genres—three ways in which your protagonist can change internally by the story’s end. Coyne adapted these genres from Normal Friedman’s 1955 article in the Journal of General Education, “Forms of the Plot.”
Of the three, choose the option that plays the most dominant role in your story:
Your protagonist sees the world in a certain way at the start of the novel and sees it differently by the story’s end.
Most YA novels fall into this category because they’re usually coming-of-age stories. But worldview stories are by no means confined to YA fiction. The Great Gatsy falls into the worldview category because both the protagonist and narrator come to experience disillusionment by the end.
If you’re not sure which category your story falls into, chances are it’s worldview. It’s the most common of the three. Check if your character has a different outlook on life at the start vs. end.

Your protagonist’s moral or ethical compass changes by the end (or actively refuses to change). The protagonist moves along a spectrum that ranges from selfish to altruistic—or, in some cases, your protagonist won’t move but will choose to remain selfish.
In Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, mean-spirited and miserly Ebenezer Scrooge cares only about money and work. After a visit from a ghost and several Christmas spirits, Scrooge transforms into a kinder, more charitable man.

Your protagonist’s social position (or definition of success) changes by the end. The protagonist moves along a spectrum of success and failure. Your protagonist either succeeds, tries to succeed but fails (think Little Miss Sunshine), or sells out their original values to acquire a higher social standing.
In the film Gladiator, the principled protagonist, Maximus, rises without compromising his values. In the end, he frees his fellow gladiators, turns Rome over to the Senate, and leaves behind a legacy.

Coyne breaks down each of these three internal genres further into subgenres—but if you understand the core way your protagonist’s inner world will change by the novel’s end, you’re already on your way to creating a story that leaves an impact.
Let’s Get Practical
Now go dig deep inside your protagonist’s mind. Confront them directly and ask these three questions:
What do you want (on the surface)?
What internal learning do you need (to reach your surface goal)?
How will you change internally as a result of external events?
Which internal content genre fits your story best? How much thought have you given to your protagonist’s inner world? Let me know in the comments!
Do you want to learn how to write a story that makes your target readers stand up and cheer? If you’d like support from A to Z (from brainstorming to drafting to revising to publication), book a Discovery Call with me to see if you’re a good fit to join my book coaching program, Fantasy Footsteps: Road to Publication. And if you haven’t done so already, grab your Free Guide on how to hook readers from your story’s start!
