Troy Buzby

Troy Buzby, Author


Chapter 3

The Snowflake Method: Start Small, Build Big

Most writers start with 80,000 words of ambition and end with 20,000 words of confusion. They begin Chapter One with enthusiasm and hit Chapter Five wondering how they got lost.

The problem isn’t talent. It’s process.

You don’t build a house by randomly nailing boards together. You start with a foundation, frame the structure, then add walls. Stories work the same way. The Snowflake Method gives you that blueprint.

Why Stories Fail

Three reasons kill most novels:

  1. No spine: The plot wanders because there’s no core holding it together
  2. No heart: Characters do things because the plot needs them to, not because they must
  3. No connective tissue: Scenes happen in sequence but don’t cause each other

The Snowflake Method prevents all three failures by building from one sentence to a complete novel, each step growing naturally from the last.

The Method That Actually Works

Randy Ingermanson created the Snowflake Method based on a simple observation: complex structures grow from simple patterns. A snowflake starts with a triangle. Each side becomes a smaller triangle. Repeat until you have infinite complexity from simple rules.

Your novel works the same way. Start with one sentence. Expand to a paragraph. Grow to a page. Keep building until you have a complete story where every scene matters and every character changes.

Here’s how the original process works.

Step 1: One Sentence (15 Words or Less)

Write the DNA of your story. Not a tagline. Not a pitch. The core conflict that drives everything else.

Bad: “A young woman discovers magic and must save the world from an ancient evil.”

Good: “A burned-out teacher discovers her students are disappearing into their own drawings.”

The difference? The second has specific character, specific conflict, specific stakes. It’s a seed that knows what tree it will become.

Spend an hour. Getting this right saves weeks later.

Step 2: One Paragraph (Five Sentences)

Your sentence becomes a paragraph with this structure:

  1. Setup (who and where)
  2. First disaster (what goes wrong)
  3. Second disaster (what goes worse)
  4. Third disaster (what seems impossible)
  5. Ending (how it resolves)

This isn’t a summary. It’s your story’s skeleton. Each disaster should make the next disaster inevitable. If you can shuffle them around, they’re not connected properly.

One hour. No more.

Step 3: Character Foundations (One Page)

Stories are about people changing. Before you plot further, know who’s changing and why.

For each major character, write:

  • Name: Make it memorable
  • One sentence summary: Their role in the story
  • Motivation: What they want more than life
  • Goal: What they’ll actually get
  • Conflict: What stops them
  • Epiphany: What they realize that changes everything

Notice: want and get are different. That gap is your story.

One hour per character. Major characters only.

Step 4: Expand the Paragraph (One Page)

Take your five-sentence paragraph. Make each sentence its own paragraph. Your five sentences become five paragraphs. One page total.

This is your story’s skeleton getting muscles. Each paragraph should flow into the next like water finding its path downhill. Natural. Inevitable.

Don’t add subplots yet. Don’t worry about chapters. Just expand what you have.

Two hours.

Step 5: Character Stories (One Page Each)

Each major character gets their own one-page story told from their viewpoint. Not first person—just their perspective on events.

This reveals problems. Sarah’s timeline doesn’t match David’s. Maria’s motivation conflicts with her actions. Good. Fix it now, not after 50,000 words.

These pages aren’t about your main plot. They’re about each character’s internal journey. What they want, why they can’t have it, how they change.

Three hours per character.

Step 6: Expand Again (Four Pages)

Take your one-page synopsis. Make each paragraph its own page. Five paragraphs become four pages (combine two middle ones).

Now you’re adding meat to bones. Subplots appear. Character arcs weave through main plot. Themes emerge without forcing them.

Still no chapters. No scenes. Just story flow from beginning to end. If something doesn’t fit, cut it. If something’s missing, you’ll see the hole.

One solid day of work.

Step 7: Character Charts

Now the detail work. For each character, create:

  • Full backstory
  • Physical description
  • Personality traits
  • Speech patterns
  • Connections to other characters
  • Arc through the story

This isn’t busywork. You’re solving problems before they appear on page 200. How does Sarah know David? Why does Maria trust Kevin? What makes the villain believable?

Character charts prevent convenient coincidences and forgotten motivations.

One week.

Step 8: Scene List

Turn your four-page synopsis into a scene list. Each scene gets one line:

  • POV character
  • What happens
  • What changes

That’s it. No details. Just structure.

You’ll have 50-100 scenes. Each should change something. Status, knowledge, relationships, goals—something shifts or the scene dies.

Spreadsheet it. See patterns. Balance POVs. Find holes.

One day.

Step 9: Write the Darn Thing

Now you write. But instead of staring at blank pages wondering what happens next, you know. Instead of discovering your character doesn’t work in Chapter 10, you fixed them in Step 3.

The first draft flows because you’ve removed the friction. No wandering. No wondering. Just execution.

Will you deviate from your plan? Yes. But you deviate from a structure, not into the void. The framework holds while details shift.

Why This Works

The Snowflake Method works because it respects how creativity actually functions:

  1. Constraint breeds creativity: Total freedom paralyzes. Structure liberates.
  2. Small problems are easier than big ones: Fix story issues in a paragraph, not a manuscript.
  3. Iteration beats perfection: Each pass adds detail without losing core structure.

The Payoff

Writers who use the Snowflake Method report:

  • First drafts take half the time
  • Fewer massive revisions needed
  • Stories hold together naturally
  • Characters feel authentic
  • Endings satisfy because they’re built in from the start

But the real payoff? You finish. Instead of another abandoned manuscript, you have a complete novel built on solid foundations.

Start Now

Open a document. Write one sentence. Fifteen words that contain your entire novel.

Too hard? Good. Easy answers create boring stories. Struggle with that sentence until it sings. Everything else builds from there.

The Snowflake Method isn’t magic. It’s architecture. And architecture keeps buildings—and stories—from falling down.

Your story wants to exist. This method just shows you how to build it.

Now stop reading and start writing. Step one. One sentence. Go.


The Snowflake Method was created by Randy Ingermanson. This explanation draws from years of writers actually using it to finish novels that work.