by Jaime Buckley

“You ever stare at a blank page like it owes you money? Yeah, me too. That’s why I created something that broke the dam in my brain: Trigger Questions.”
—Jaime Buckley

Let me tell you a secret:

I didn’t write my Chronicles of a Hero universe because I had it all figured out.

I wrote it because I asked better questions.

When writers tell me they’re stuck, overwhelmed, or drowning in a sea of disconnected worldbuilding notes, I nod politely. Then I slide a sheet across the table like a dealer in a high-stakes card game.

It’s a list of what I call Trigger Questions.

Believe it or not, one sheet is enough to change everything.

So... What the Heck Are Trigger Questions?

They’re not writing prompts.

They're not brainstorming tools.

They’re mind grenades—questions that force your imagination to respond, to create, to connect the dots of your fictional world in ways you never saw coming.

Trigger Questions are a cornerstone of the way I write, and they were born from pure desperation. I had all these amazing ideas swirling in my head, but when it came time to sit down and write?

Nada.

Zilch.

My muse took the bus and didn’t leave a forwarding address.

This wasn't about 'writers block' which to this day, I disagree is a thing. The ideas were there. I have access to the creativity.

…it just wouldn't make much sense outside my own mind.

So I did what I always do when life kicks me in the face—I asked myself “Why?”

Why Questions?

• Why are the gear-run clocks across the city all set 12 minutes slow—and why must they never, ever, be corrected? (Who made that rule… and who enforces it?)
• Why do the homeless gnomes in Sector 9 trade dried mushroom caps with blessings carved into them—despite not believing in the gods? (And what happens when a blessing is broken?)
• Why does the King's Army require new recruits to walk barefoot through the Garden of Ash—and why are only some of them ever seen again? (What grows in that soil that refuses to burn?)
• Why is one of the Iskäri High Council members secretly funding illegal Bloodsticks games in the Black Market tunnels—and what does he risk if the other Elders find out? (What is he trying to buy… or distract from?)

And then it hit me.

If I could ask the right kind of questions, ones that begged for story logic... the answers would build the world for me.

So I built a system.

I call it the UP-Chuck Method (gross name, memorable system)—a process of vomiting up raw, messy ideas and shaping them through curiosity. Trigger Questions are the fuel that keep it going.

🧠 Why They Work When Nothing Else Does

Your brain is a puzzle solver. It hates loose ends. Ask it a question—especially a weird one—and it will bend over backwards to answer it. But it has to be the right kind of question.

Here’s the magic: Trigger Questions are designed to ripple.

One answer leads to another question. That leads to a new connection. That leads to a rule, a culture, a character quirk, or a political uprising that changes the course of your story.

It’s exponential.

And this isn’t just me flapping my lips—it’s backed by actual psychology.

🧠 The Zeigarnik Effect

In the 1920s, psychologist Bluma Zeigarnik discovered that people tend to remember unfinished tasks better than completed ones. That tension—an open loop in the brain—keeps things lingering in your subconscious until they’re resolved. That means when you ask a compelling question, your mind doesn’t let go until it gets an answer.
👉 Learn more here:
https://www.verywellmind.com/zeigarnik-effect-memory-overview-4175150

🧠 Instinctive Elaboration

Then there’s something called instinctive elaboration—a cognitive reflex documented by researchers at Columbia University. When your brain hears a question, it actually hijacks your attention and forces you to think about it, often at the expense of whatever else you were focused on.
👉 Read the summary here:
https://business.columbia.edu/press-releases/cbs-press-release/want-know-what-your-brain-does-when-it-hears-question

That’s the real juice behind Trigger Questions. They tap into this natural curiosity reflex and won’t let your imagination off the hook. You become your own idea machine—because your brain has no choice but to fill in the blanks.

I’ve seen this happen not just in my work, but in the lives of hundreds of writers who’ve messaged me after trying the system.

One guy used a single Trigger Question—"Who’s not allowed in the sacred garden, and why?"—and ended up with a 3-book trilogy about magical caste systems and a rebellion led by a talking raven priest.

That’s the power of asking smart, strange, irresistible questions.

🧭 It’s Not a System. It’s a Compass.

Most worldbuilding tools feel like spreadsheets.

You know the ones I mean—columns of dry details that look great on paper but somehow never make your story breathe. They ask for things like average rainfall, government structures, or what your economy exports. Useful? Maybe. Inspiring? Rarely.

But Trigger Questions?

They’re not checklists. They’re compasses.

They don’t give you a map. They give you direction. They say, “That way. There’s something alive over there—go find it.” And nine times out of ten, what you find isn’t what you expected… it’s something better.

Trigger Questions don’t care if your city has three trade guilds or five. What they care about is this:

• Why is no one allowed to make eye contact with the guildmaster’s apprentice?
• Why are the only bridges into the capital covered in chalk runes that no one dares erase?
• Why does it always rain on the day the Queen delivers her speeches… and why do people think she wants it to?

Those kinds of questions spark lore. Culture. Conflict. And best of all—story.

You’ve probably felt this before. You had a character you loved—they had personality, backstory, all the potential in the world… until your plot railroaded them into acting like a robot. Or you built a city that sounded cool in your head, but on the page it just sat there, flat and lifeless.

That’s what happens when you build with templates instead of curiosity.

Templates ask:

“What’s the weather like in this region?”

Trigger Questions ask:

“What weather is forbidden to speak of—and what happens if someone breaks that rule?”

See the difference?

One gives you data. The other gives you drama.

Templates give you what exists. Trigger Questions reveal what’s hidden.

And in good stories, what’s hidden is always more interesting.

So if you’re tired of your world feeling like a well-organized filing cabinet… grab a compass. Start asking questions that twist your gut, tickle your brain, and wake up the wild things in your imagination.

Let your world surprise you.

That’s when you know you’re doing it right.

Why Writers Need This Right Now

We’re drowning in content. There are more books, games, and streaming shows out there than we could consume in ten lifetimes.

So if you want your world to matter—to stick with a reader long after they’ve turned the last page—you need depth. You need story logic that feels inevitable. You need whispers of a world that feels bigger than what you put on the page.

Trigger Questions build that world.

They make your setting feel lived in. They make your magic systems feel rooted. They make your characters feel like they belong to something older and more complex than a single plotline.

They make the writing easier.

Seriously. I’ve had writers email me after reading the Advanced Worldbuilding guide, and what they share is always the same: "Your Trigger Questions lit my brain on fire." They weren’t just jotting down answers—they were discovering entire belief systems, hidden histories, character motives they never planned for. One writer told me she reworked her entire trilogy after realizing the answers to three questions changed everything.

That’s the kind of ripple effect we’re talking about here.

Where To Start

If you're curious (or desperate—or both), here's your call to action:

• Grab a pen.
• Ask a Trigger Question.
• Write until you can't stop.
• Then ask another.

You Can Do This

So yeah—ask better questions.

The right ones.

Not the neat, polite ones that fit inside a tidy little worksheet... but the ones that make your brain ache and your heart race a little.

The ones that whisper:
"There’s a secret in this world, and it’s waiting for you to find it."

That’s how you build stories that matter.
That’s how you create worlds worth exploring.

And if you ever get stuck?

Just remember my mantra:

“If I can do this, anyone can. The difference is—I did.”

Once you learn to ask better questions, your world will never be the same.

Now go make something amazing.

You Are MORE Than You THINK You ARE!

Show off your shiny new Trigger Questions in the comments below.

About Jaime

Jaime Buckley is an award-winning cartoonist and best-selling author.

More importantly, he’s a loving husband and father of 13 children. Since 1986 he’s worked for famous authors and TV personalities, and illustrated for hundreds of new authors across the genre spectrum. If you can think of a creative project or marketing strategy, Jaime's likely done it… but always finds his greatest success by being himself. You can find Jaime entertaining readers five days a week on LifeOfFiction.com and expanding his fictional lore on WantedHero.com. He also teaches his successful methods exclusively online at No Stress Writing Academy!

Want help with Trigger Questions? I’ve got you covered.

My book, Advanced Worldbuilding, walks you through the whole system. There’s a workbook (yes, homework—but fun) and even downloadable templates to guide you. I also share free insights on my Life of Fiction Substack, where we go deep into worldbuilding, storytelling, and the creative process every week.

Check out my new Worldbuilding Masterclass on No Stress Writing Academy. Now available for a pre-order discount!

And if you're the type who wants to see what happens when a world is built with this system from the ground up? You can always start with Chronicles of a Hero. Wendell Dipmier’s first steps into another world were mapped with Trigger Questions from page one.

Check out Jaime's current books:

• Wanted Hero comics collection (over one million downloads!)
• Demoni Vankil
• Bloodsticks
• What IF (a choose your own ending adventure)
• Stella and the Bear
• Worldbuilding Guides

by Mara Purl

“There’s no such thing as Men’s Fiction.” This was Andrew Klavan’s immediate response to my question about whether he’d want to debate this issue at the then-upcoming 2008 Ventura Book Festival.

More recently, fellow authors and readers alike have expressed surprise, saying they didn’t know Men’s Fiction was “a thing.” Is it? It seems to me, it’s been hiding in plain sight all along.

Good or Bad Fiction?

“Fiction” used to be the comprehensive name for all books that a weren't non-fiction.

I remember a conversation with my father, an omnivorous reader. I described some of the sub-genres that were emerging at the time: mystery, thriller, romance, and several others. He pondered this for a moment then remarked, "But is it good fiction or bad fiction? That's the only thing that matters."

From his perspective, it seemed simple. But that was before books could be digitally delivered with technology that opened both new possibilities and fresh responsibilities.

24/7 Access to Every Genre

The digitization of cultural works, namely books, began in the 1970s. Flash forward to the early 2000s, which is when universities began opting in to Google’s Book Search project.

Note: This was a project against which the Author’s Guild filed a lawsuit in 2005 because authors had not given their permission for their works to be searched, and this project was thus (the first of many) copy infringments.

That kind of search referred to interior content. Meanwhile the ability to search for books by title and theme was greatly enhanced. Customers looking only for a particular type of book could begin to find it through brand new search functions. And search they did, creating the requirement on the part of publishers to label their books not only by genre, but by sub-genre.

Of course, there had always been mysteries and thrillers, romances and family sagas. But now, one didn't have to walk through bookstores or investigate library shelves to find them. Now one could search them out at home, and a few years later, from anywhere on a smart phone.

Part of Why “Women’s Fiction” Developed

In this vast pantheon of available titles, most were written by and for men. Eventually those written by and for women were labeled as such. But since all other fiction was essentially men's fiction, labeling it would be like putting up planet-wide signs to say oxygen was in the air. Men's fiction was that omnipresent and we didn't need to be reminded.

Then things changed. The sheer volume of female readers became a significant factor.

Surveys over the past decade indicate that while about 35 percent of readers are men, approximately 50 percent of readers are women.

Though they, like male readers, read just as omnivorously as those of previous generations, they also expect delivery of curated content to their shelves and devices.

Women’s Fiction Tests

In the 1985 comic strip Dykes to Watch Out For, cartoonist Allison Bechdel created an episode called “The Rule.” She attributes the idea to her friend Liz Wallace. The Bechdel-Wallace Test measures the inclusion and representation of women in works of fiction. The work can be listed as Women’s Fiction if it has: 1) at least two women; 2) who talk to each other; 3) about something other than men.

This test inspired two others.

• The Mako Mori is a test about female characters having their own narrative arc
• The Finkbeiner is a test about the portrayal of women in science.

During that initial debate, perhaps Andrew Klavan and I created the first Men’s Fiction test.

Book Festivals & Breakthroughs

Back in the day, authors in SoCal (Southern California) could take advantage of a built-in tour of book festivals each autumn. Panels, presentations, readings and signings were held for about three weeks each Fall, from Ventura to San Luis Obispo.

As I prepared for the Ventura Book Festival that year, I read about fellow presenter Andrew, author of thirty-plus crime novels, several screenplays, a memoir, and more. Impressed with his writing, and figuring it to be about as different from mine as could be, I wanted to do a deep dive into what exactly made our genres so distinct from one another.

So I called him. You saw his response at the top of this post. My response to his comment was, “There is Men’s Fiction if there’s Women’s Fiction.”

Note: you might enjoy reading my earlier post on Women’s Fiction. As noted there, in today’s parlance, this is fiction written about women.

We could thus assume that Men’s Fiction is written about men. This is, of course, an over simplification. It’d be more accurate to say that Men’s Fiction is aimed at the traditional male audience.

Andrew immediately agreed to the debate. Not only did we have a blast; the room where our session was held filled to the maximum and we had our audience engaged from start to finish, as evidenced by the nodding heads, the laughter, and the applause.

Okay, so we were onto something. But what?

It’s not Two Buckets

In our discussion, we quickly realized we weren’t talking about two buckets. Rather, we discovered these descriptors exist at the two ends of a scale, and we started to identify some markers along its length.  

1. Velocity

Men’s fiction tends to move fast; women’s fiction lingers. If you’re in the mood for a fast-paced page-turner, you could race around Rome with Dan Brown in The DaVinci Code. But if you want to slow down, you could delve into Victoriana with Anne Perry’s richly detailed view of London in her Thomas Pitt mysteries.

2. Detailed Descriptions

My favorite way to explain this is by asking you to imagine a dinner scene.

If you’re reading Men’s Fiction, the man walks in, glances around the restaurant, chooses a seat where his back is not exposed, and he can see the front door. He orders a steak and takes the measure of the people in the room, vigilant throughout his meal.

If you’re reading Women’s Fiction, the woman walks in, takes a moment to assess the decor. We see the color of the tablecloths, the type of floral arrangements on the tables, the view out the window, the aromas filling the room. We note how short the servers’ skirts are (if they’re female), the level of manners as she’s being served, the volume of conversations, the type of music being played through the speakers.

3. Wardrobe

In Men’s Fiction, the protagonist wears a shirt, pants, and a jacket. Enough said. Clothing on the females in most scenes is only mentioned if she’s in a sexy dress, spaghetti straps, or short skirt that climbs her thighs as she sits, or drifts upward in a breeze.

In Women’s Fiction, the main character chooses what to wear according to her next activity? Let’s say she dons a tailored suit, silk blouse, sleek heels, and stylish purse. She smooths her hair and captures it in a French twist, checks her makeup, and makes sure to take a coat if it’s chilly.

The important “secret code”

“Why do I have to know all that?” my husband asked while we discussed the upcoming debate.

“Because it’s code,” I explained. “My readers are mostly women. When they read that description, they get that the woman is living in a city, is a professional, is experienced enough to have been working for at least a few years, and takes her career seriously. Since I’ve said it with the wardrobe, I don’t have to say it again when I describe the character.”

A secret code? Yes! And really, not so secret. Something else that hides in plain sight.

4. Feelings

It will come as no surprise that Women’s Fiction lingers over something else too: how the characters feel. When Dan Brown’s main character is racing around Rome, there are no breaks in the action. That’s the point. And it’s great fun for the reader to do his or her best to keep up.

But when Robyn Carr’s protagonist finds herself in the presence of a certain man, she pauses to consider her feelings. What’s triggering her reaction? Is she haunted by a previous encounter? Is she confronted by something she’s never felt before? Why has her pulse sped up? Is he standing too close? Though the “action” may have stopped, the story is actually ramping up. Not only do we get her feelings, as the story continues we also get her take on other characters’ feelings, and how it might be driving them.

In Men’s Fiction, the feelings, whatever they might be, tend to be revealed by the action. My mentor and friend Louis L’Amour would show his cowboy “lighting a shuck” and racing across the landscape to head the bad guy off at the pass. He didn’t describe the man’s feelings; he showed the strength of those feelings through the action. That works! It’s just a different way of telling the story.

5. Interior Dialogue

The breakthrough that allowed readers inside the thoughts of a female protagonist was created by Jane Austen.

Until then, Regency fiction tended to place nicely dressed characters onto the chess boards of their rigorously mannered society. We saw their expectations and manipulations. But when we meet Elizabeth, she reveals her innermost misgivings about this life that’s so restrictive. We see and feel her pride and her prejudice through her actions and her dialogue.

Now, the interior mindscape of characters is a key part of Women’s Fiction and is virtually unthinkable without.

Text & Cover Styles

As these respective genres were increasingly honed in the sometimes awkward collaboration amongst authors, publishers, and readers, the interiors and exteriors of books shifted to show their respective “codes.”

In bookstores, and on Amazon category pages, specific colors became prevalent: for Men’s Fiction, red and black; for Women’s Fiction, pastels. There is much more to the art and science of cover design, but that’s a separate conversation.

Meanwhile the page length, plot points, story arcs, pacing, sentence length, vocabulary all also became codified to match their respective genres. Plenty of authors break these rules. Yet many also work hard to deliver within the recommended framework.

Why is it so important to clearly define genre?

Because of all the goals authors try to achieve, perhaps there’s one that’s most important. Our readers are counting on us to deliver what we say we’ll deliver. If we say it’s a work of literary fiction, then it needs to be; if it’s Men’s Fiction, it better have those taut, muscular elements; if it’s Women’s Fiction, you can count on us to deliver multiple layers of thoughts, relationships, and feelings.

As an author, you make sure your readers can count on you. What do you make sure you deliver? Do these elements it fit within the genre for which your books are coded? Do you feel your writing enhances your genre? We'd love to hear your answers down in the comments!

About Mara

Mara Purl is the best-selling author of the Milford-Haven Novels & Novellas a series of Women's Fiction books which have won 75-plus book awards, appeared on multiple best-seller lists, and are based on her hit Milford-Haven, U.S.A., with 4.5 million listeners on BBC Radio. Mara wrote for the A.P., the Financial Times of London, and Rolling Stone among many others. As an actress, Mara is best known from Days Of Our Lives and she's a frequent speaker and presenter at local and national book events, has served on the boards of author and publishing organizations for 25 years, and has taught writing and literacy programs in Colorado, California, Alaska, and Japan.

You can find out more about her at marapurl.com

Blog images were purchased from depositphotos.com

by Becca Puglisi

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about character chemistry—that spark, bond, or shared connection we often associate with strong and compelling romantic relationships. 

But chemistry shouldn’t be limited to love interests. Frodo and Sam, Thelma and Louise, Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader…some of the most memorable relationships in fiction had nothing to do with physical attraction. If we can bring chemistry into the protagonist’s friendships, rivalries, or even mentor/protégé and adversarial relationships, the characters and dynamics will come alive for readers.

So I’d like to share six tips for creating that oomph between characters in any genre. 

1. Make the Characters Clash

Tension—the reader’s emotional response to what’s happening with the character—is a key element of chemistry and can be generated through conflict, suspense, uncertainty, and anticipation. When we examine tension within the context of relationships, it often arises through the interplay between the characters.

Even positive and symbiotic relationships need tension to keep them moving. So give the characters opposing traits—impulsive vs. cautious, logical vs. intuitive, tolerant vs. inflexible—to create that sense of strain. Maybe they have conflicting goals, or they’re pursuing the same objective but for different reasons. Are they opposed when it comes to certain questions of morality or ethics? Differences create friction, and friction creates interest. So make sure your characters challenge each other simply by being true to themselves.

2. Let Them See Each Other Clearly

Everyone wants to be seen; it’s something we look for in our real-world relationships, so adding that element to a fictional dynamic can give it an extra dose of authenticity. Maybe one character sees something in the other that most people miss: an undervalued strength or how they’re uniquely different. Maybe the character sees a friend’s flaws and weaknesses and are able to call those out in a way that’s challenging rather than critical. This depth of knowing each other speaks to a deeper kind of relationship that most readers appreciate and will respond to.

3. Don’t Forget the Subtext

I recently rewatched the TV show Lie to Me, and in the first episode, the protagonist claims that people on average lie three times per hour. I don’t know if that’s true, but it feels true. Whether we’re lying outright or covertly being deceptive (leaving out details, pretending to feel something we don’t, etc.), no one is completely honest all the time. 

Authentic characters hide things: their true feelings or opinions, what they really want, their insecurities and fears—even from the people they love and trust. So a character’s surface-level interactions (their words, choices, and behaviors) contradict what’s really going on inside (visceral responses, thoughts, and emotions). That subtext charges the energy in the relationship, making it crackle. 

This kind of chemistry is compelling to readers because it adds a sense of realism to the relationship. It also creates intrigue as the reader sees everything isn’t as it seems, and they start paying closer attention to figure out what’s happening under the surface.

4. Create Shared History or Inside Moments

Chemistry builds on shared experiences—good and bad. When you’re creating characters and their important relationships, add in backstory events that reveal a bond. When they reference those touchpoints, it reveals a depth to their relationship. If the characters are just getting to know each other and don’t yet have a history, create bonding moments—even something small, like a shared joke or win—to start building that depth early.

5. Make the Relationship Interesting

Chemistry is anything but boring, so it’s hard to find it between boring, predictable, or clichéd characters. What can you add to the relationship to make it unusual or interesting? 

• As discussed, make the characters clash through opposing traits, goals, or morality. 
• Unify them in a difficult objective. 
• Make the pairing itself unusual, as in the case of a high school chemistry teacher and his student joining forces to make meth.
• Give them a powerful joint enemy in the form of an individual, organization, a natural or supernatural force, or even the society or culture they live in.
• Add mystery. One of my favorite pairings in all of fiction is the one between Scout Finch and Boo Radley. Their relationship teems with chemistry despite them not talking or officially meeting until the very end. They were separated for most of the story, but the tension, energy, and spark were there because of the mystery surrounding Boo Radley.

Relationships are only as engaging as the characters who embody them, so invest ample time and energy in the character creation process to be sure you’re building a unique and authentic cast that readers will find interesting.

6. Ebb and Flow

Chemistry is very much about shifts and changes. A relationship where both parties are content and comfortable and everything stays the same will read as flat. One way to address this is to map out the relationship arc—all the characters’ interactions—throughout the story. Mark those events with a + or – sign to indicate strengthening (increased admiration, proven trust, bonding through adversity) or a decline (increased distance, an argument, loyalty being questioned). If you don’t see changes (if the relationship is mostly flat) add moments that create movement. This will keep it from stagnating, giving the relationship a sense of flow and evolution.

Basically, chemistry emerges not only from what the characters say and do, but through how they engage with each other. Big moments have big impact, but you can only have so many of those in a story. Capitalize on the small things that can bring about friction, camaraderie, subtext, and uncertainty in the relationship, and readers will be drawn in.

About Becca

Becca Puglisi is an international speaker, writing coach, and bestselling author of The Emotion Thesaurus and other resources for writers. Her books have sold over 1 million copies and are available in multiple languages, are sourced by US universities, and are used by novelists, screenwriters, editors, and psychologists around the world. She is passionate about learning and sharing her knowledge with others through her Writers Helping Writers blog and via One Stop For Writers—a powerhouse online resource for authors that's home to the Character Builder and Storyteller's Roadmap tools.

Image Credits

Top image by TréVoy Kelly from Pixabay

Second image by Krzysztof from Pixabay