That’s where Glenn Gers comes in. He’s a screenwriter with something better than a story formula: a six-question filter that doesn’t care how stylish your script is. If your story doesn’t pass this test, it doesn’t work. Period.
And that’s precisely why these six questions matter. They don’t fix your story. They tell you whether you have one.
The Story Doctor Is In
Glenn Gers isn’t some screenwriting guru selling templates. He’s a working writer who’s spent decades in the trenches, writing studio films, indie projects, and navigating development hell with grace. Over time, he noticed that once you pass beyond the most superficial or preliminary writing problems, you graduate to the real, deeper ones—problems that are structural and foundational.
So, he distilled the chaos into six questions that are brutally simple yet painfully effective. They won’t exactly tell you how to outline your script. These six questions will expose whether your story has a heartbeat at all
Let’s go through them.
The Six Questions That Can Break—or Save—Your Story
1. Who is it about?
The Iconic Harry Potter TrioCredit: Warner Bros
This sounds obvious. It rarely is.
Every story needs a protagonist, but writers often confuse ensemble casts or shifting POVs with complexity. They forget: audiences follow one emotional thread at a time. “Who is it about?” forces you to make a choice. Not who’s present. Not who’s interesting. Who drives the story forward? Whose need, journey, and failure shape the entire arc?
Without this clarity, you get scenes, not a story. You get moments, not momentum.
2. What do they want?
Characters don’t move unless they want something. That want is your engine. Not what they need (that’s for character arcs). Not what the writer wants. What the character is actively pursuing.
It doesn’t have to be noble or deep. It just has to be urgent. A promotion. A divorce. A spaceship rides out of here. Once the want is clear, the audience locks in. We know where we’re headed, even if the road is a mess.
When you can’t answer this question, the story becomes static. Characters talk. They reflect. They vibe. And the audience checks out.
3. Why can’t they get it
Lord VoldemortCredit: Warner Bros
Welcome to conflict, where stories live or die.
This question digs into the heart of tension. What's standing in the way? It could be another person, a system, a belief, or the character’s own fear. But there has to be resistance. If the goal is easy, the story is boring. If the struggle is fake, the story feels cheap.
This is where most stories flounder. They set up a want but forget to throw meaningful obstacles in the way. Gers’ question won’t let you off the hook. If there’s no real barrier, there’s no real reason to keep watching.
4. What do they do about it?
Credit: Warner Bros
Here’s where action kicks in. The protagonist has a goal. There’s a wall in the way. Now what?
This question tests agency. Not what happens to the character, but what the character does. Passive protagonists don’t change stories. They get dragged through them.
The choices they make, the plans they form, the risks they take—this is where narrative power builds. Without this step, you’re writing a diary, not a screenplay.
5. Why doesn’t that work
This is where the story earns its tension. Early efforts must fail. Not because the writer wants to extend the plot, but because the character hasn’t grown yet. Or maybe hasn’t faced the real problem.
Failure adds stakes. It exposes flaws. It deepens our investment. And it keeps the audience guessing. If the character’s first plan works, you’re writing a short film.
This question reminds you that struggle is the point, not a placeholder.
6. How does it end?
Credit: Warner Bros
No more vague hand-waving. You need an ending that resolves the story’s central want and pays off everything the character’s been through. Gers isn’t asking for a twist or a grand finale. He’s asking for closure.
It doesn’t have to be happy. It just has to feel right. The story began with a goal. It faced obstacles, actions, and failures. So, how does it land? What’s changed? Who’s changed?
If you can’t answer this, you don’t have a story. You have a setup.
How This Test Actually Helps You Write
Don’t consider this test as an exercise. Consider it your GPS moving across the writing process.
When you’re stuck in the second act, spinning scenes that don’t build on each other, run the test.
When a character feels hollow but you don’t know why, run the test.
When your story feels “off” but you can’t pinpoint where, run the test.
These six questions aren’t linear—they’re diagnostic. You don’t have to use them in order. Use them when something’s not clicking. Use them before you write. Use them after your fifth draft. They’ll save you weeks of wheel-spinning and plot patches.
Why This Test Applies to All Storytelling
This doesn’t have to be just a Hollywood tool. Novelists, playwrights, game designers, and even journalists can use this framework. Regardless of the kind of story or narrative you are writing or creating, it will always have a protagonist, a goal, and conflict. So these questions matter.
Memoirists can use them to shape narrative arcs from memory. Podcasters can use them to structure episodes. Marketers can use them to craft compelling brand stories.
The outer body may differ, but the skeleton remains the same. Because it’s not really about screenwriting. It’s about story thinking.
The Story Knows—You Just Have to Ask
Most writers chase feedback. But sometimes, the smartest thing you can do is interrogate the story yourself. Glenn Gers hands you the questions. Not to punish your ideas, but to pressure-test them before the audience does.
If your story answers all six questions honestly, chances are it is working. If it’s not, still good—at least you know what’s broken.
And once you know that, you’re no longer guessing. You’re writing.