The “How Badly Do They Want It?” Factor - The Secret Sauce of Great Storytelling

Weak desire equals a weak story—period. Whether you’re writing a novel, crafting a speech, or just trying to convince your friend to watch your favorite show, the key to storytelling is urgency. Here’s how to make your audience feel the stakes, no matter how small.

The Core of Every Story: Intention and Stakes

A story without strong intention is like a car without an engine. Sure, you can push it forward a little, but it’s going to be a painfully slow, frustrating experience.

At the heart of every compelling story is a simple formula:

👉 What does the character want? (Intention)
👉 What stands in their way? (Obstacle/Stakes)

Sounds easy, right? But here’s where most stories fall flat—the character’s desire isn’t strong enough to carry the story forward.

The Problem with Weak Intentions

It’s not enough to say:

  • Bob wants a job.
  • Sarah wants a date.
  • Tom wants a new apartment.

Big deal. Who cares?

The difference between a forgettable story and a gripping one is how badly the character wants it and what’s at stake if they fail.

Raising the Stakes: Why the ‘Why’ Matters

If Bob is casually looking for a job, yawn—there’s no urgency. But what if:

  • Bob has been unemployed for a year and is about to lose his home?
  • His wife is pregnant, and he needs health insurance ASAP?
  • This interview is his last shot before he has to move back in with his overbearing parents?
  • He’s acing the interview—until he realizes his resume has a critical typo?

Now we care. Now we’re invested.

Because it’s not just about a job anymore—it’s about survival, dignity, and the pressure of failure.

How to Instantly Boost Your Story’s Stakes

Want to make your story instantly more engaging? Ask these three questions:

1️⃣ Why does this matter so much to the character?
2️⃣ What happens if they fail?
3️⃣ How can I make that failure even worse?

The best stories aren’t just about wanting something. They’re about needing it so badly that failure isn’t an option.

If the stakes don’t feel urgent, the story doesn’t feel compelling.

👉 Lesson: A character’s intention means nothing without stakes. The higher the stakes, the stronger the story. 🚀


Why Weak Desires Lead to Forgettable Stories

A character’s desire is the heartbeat of any story. If that heartbeat is weak, the whole narrative flatlines.

Think of the most compelling stories you know. What do they all have in common? The characters don’t just want something—they need it, obsess over it, fight for it like their life depends on it.

Now imagine those same stories with a weaker desire:

  • Breaking Bad: Walter White dabbles in meth production as a fun side hustle. Meh.
  • Titanic: Jack and Rose flirt a little, then go their separate ways. Who cares?
  • Finding Nemo: Marlin kinda hopes Nemo finds his way home, but he’s not gonna stress about it. Yawn.

Do you feel anything reading those versions? Probably not. And neither would your audience.

The Emotional Connection Problem

Here’s the cold, hard truth:

👉 If your character doesn’t care deeply, neither will your audience.

It doesn’t matter if they want a new job, a relationship, or a magic sword. If they aren’t burning for it—if they aren’t willing to struggle for it—then why should we invest our time in their journey?

This is why bland, generic protagonists flop. They want things, sure—but not enough to drive the story. Their stakes aren’t clear. Their urgency is missing. They lack the desperation, obsession, or emotional depth that makes a story sticky.

How to Fix It: Make the Desire Specific, Emotional, and High-Stakes

A weak desire is often the result of vagueness.

  • He wants successHe wants to prove to his estranged father that he’s not a failure.
  • She wants loveShe needs to find a partner before her sister’s wedding so she won’t look like the family disappointment.
  • They want to win the competitionThey need to win because it's their only chance to escape a dead-end life.

See the difference? One is generic. The other has weight, pressure, and personal stakes.

Even in low-stakes situations, the key is making the character’s desire feel urgent and deeply personal.

So the next time you’re crafting a story, ask yourself:

Does my character care enough?
What happens if they don’t get what they want?
Why should my audience give a damn?

If you can’t answer those questions with conviction, your story isn’t ready yet. Go back, crank up the stakes, and make us feel the urgency. Because in storytelling, weak desires = weak engagement.


Making Small Stakes Feel Big (A Croissant Could Change Your Life)

Not every story needs an asteroid hurtling toward Earth, a war for the fate of humanity, or a life-or-death showdown. Some of the most engaging, memorable stories are built around small stakes that feel big because of how much they matter to the character.

Think about it—have you ever been irrationally fixated on something that technically didn’t matter but felt critical in the moment?

  • The coffee shop was out of your favorite drink, and suddenly your entire day felt off.
  • You lost your phone charger, and now it’s a full-scale mission to find it before your battery dies.
  • Your favorite TV show got removed from Netflix, and now you’re on a desperate hunt to find where you can stream it.

These aren’t world-ending problems. But in the moment, they feel like it—and that’s what makes them relatable and powerful.

Case Study: The Croissant That Meant Everything

Let’s take an example. A man just wants a croissant.

Boring, right?
Wrong. It’s boring if we don’t understand why it matters to him.

Now, let’s add layers:

  • He’s been craving it for days.
  • He just moved to a new city and wants to establish a comforting routine.
  • Every bakery he visits is closed.
  • He’s running late for work but just can’t let it go.

Suddenly, it’s not just about a croissant. It’s about control, comfort, and the frustration of life not cooperating.

Now, it’s an adventure.
Now, we’re invested.
Now, we care.

Because even though it’s just a croissant, it represents something bigger.

The Secret: It’s Never About the Thing, It’s About the Meaning

👉 The audience doesn’t care about the croissant. They care about why the croissant matters to the character.

This is why romantic comedies make us cry over a forgotten anniversary.
This is why sports movies make us feel a last-minute comeback like it’s life or death.
This is why sitcoms can make an entire episode about losing a pen and still make it engaging.

If the character cares deeply, the audience will too.

How to Make Small Stakes Feel Big in Your Stories

Want to make a seemingly trivial event feel important? Use these tricks:

Give it emotional weight – What does this small thing represent? Control, self-worth, validation, nostalgia?
Create obstacles – Make the goal just out of reach. The more roadblocks, the more we care.
Build tension – Play up the urgency, even if it’s ridiculous. (Think of how sitcoms turn minor inconveniences into full-blown crises.)
Make the character obsessed – The more they fixate, the funnier, more dramatic, and more engaging it becomes.

Final Thought: Stakes Are What You Make Them

A small moment, properly framed, can feel monumental.

Because in storytelling, it’s not the size of the stakes—it’s how much the character cares.

And if a man’s desperate croissant quest can become a compelling story… imagine what you can do with your narratives. 🚀


How to Show (Not Tell) Desire in Storytelling

One of the biggest mistakes in storytelling? Telling the audience what the character wants instead of making them feel it.

Readers and viewers don’t just want to know what’s happening—they want to experience it. They want to sweat when the character sweats, fidget when they fidget, and feel the crushing weight of the stakes pressing down.

Bad storytelling simply states the facts.
Good storytelling makes those facts visceral.

Bad Example (Telling):

Bob really wanted the job. He had been unemployed for a while and was nervous about the interview.

What’s wrong here?

  • We’re being told that Bob wants the job. But do we feel it? Not really.
  • There’s no emotion, no tension—just a basic summary of his situation.

Better Example (Showing):

Bob stared at his wrinkled suit in the mirror. He rubbed his sweaty palms against his thighs. His stomach tightened as he pictured his landlord’s final warning: “One more month, Bob. That’s all you get.”

Why does this work?

  • We don’t need to be told that Bob wants the job—we see it in his anxious behavior.
  • His desperation is implied through sensory details (sweaty palms, stomach tightening).
  • The stakes are reinforced by his landlord’s threat—if he doesn’t get this job, he’s out of options.

This second version forces the reader to feel Bob’s urgency. And that’s what makes a story stick.

How to Show Strong Desire in a Story

So, how do you make a character’s desire active instead of passive? Here’s your toolkit:

1. Physical Reactions (Make the Body Speak)

People don’t just think about their desires—they physically react to them. If a character is stressed, excited, or obsessed, their body will show it.

✅ Clenching fists, pacing, tapping feet
✅ A racing heart, cold sweats, shallow breathing
✅ Stomach dropping, hands trembling, throat tightening

👉 If the character’s body isn’t reacting, their desire isn’t strong enough.

2. Internal Dialogue (Let Us Into Their Head)

Thoughts can be just as powerful as actions. When a character’s mind won’t shut up about something, it signals urgency.

✅ Self-doubt: What if I screw this up?
✅ Rationalizing: Okay, if I just say the right thing, I can fix this.
✅ Obsessive thoughts: I just need one chance, just one.

👉 A character’s mind should be just as frantic (or laser-focused) as their actions.

3. Obstacles (The Greater the Resistance, the Greater the Desire)

A weak desire is easily satisfied. A strong desire is blocked at every turn.

  • The job interview is going well—until Bob realizes his resume has a typo.
  • The love interest finally agrees to a date—right before they get a job offer in another city.
  • The character finally gets to the bakery—only to find out they just sold the last croissant.

👉 The more the world pushes back, the more important the goal feels.

4. Behavioral Ticks (Unconscious Reactions Show Everything)

When people are under pressure, they develop habits they might not even notice—but the audience will.

Checking their watch repeatedly = Nervous about time.
Nail-biting, hair-twirling = Anxiety, impatience.
Fidgeting, adjusting clothes, rubbing temples = Trying to self-soothe.

👉 Tiny details make emotions real. The more specific the habit, the better.

If It Doesn’t Manifest, It’s Not Real

Here’s the golden rule:

👉 If the character’s desire doesn’t physically or emotionally manifest in some way, it’s not strong enough.

Next time you write a scene, don’t ask, “What does my character want?”
Ask, “How does my character show they want it?”

Because when the audience feels the urgency, they won’t just read the story—they’ll live it. 🚀


Practical Exercises to Amp Up Intensity in Your Stories

Want your stories to grip your audience and make them feel the stakes? The secret is training yourself to dial up urgency and emotion. The stronger the desire, the more powerful the story.

Here are two simple yet game-changing exercises to make even the smallest stakes feel massive.

Exercise 1: The “Make It Worse” Challenge

A good storyteller doesn’t just give a character a goal—they throw every possible obstacle in their way.

Step 1: Start with a simple desire.

  • A character just wants a coffee.

Step 2: Now, make it worse—stack problems on top of each other.

  • The coffee shop is closed.
  • It’s their first day at a new job and they desperately need caffeine.
  • Their boss is a coffee snob and will judge them harshly for showing up without one.
  • The only other café has a ridiculous line.
  • They finally reach the front, but their credit card declines.

See what’s happening? Now, it’s not just about coffee—it’s about first impressions, anxiety, and self-worth.

👉 The more obstacles you add, the more intense the desire feels.

Try this with your own characters:

  1. Give them a simple goal.
  2. Add at least three roadblocks.
  3. Watch how quickly the tension explodes.

Exercise 2: Rewrite a Weak Desire

One of the biggest reasons stories fall flat? The character’s desire isn’t personal enough.

Take this weak example:

She wanted a new dress for the party.

It’s not enough. We don’t know why it matters. There’s no urgency.

Now, let’s rewrite it:

She stared at her closet. Nothing fit. Nothing looked right. This wasn’t just a party—it was her ex’s engagement party. She had one chance to look stunning, to make him regret everything. And she had one hour to find the perfect dress.

BOOM. Now we care.

Why does this version work?
It’s not just a dress—it’s revenge, confidence, and validation.
There’s a ticking clock (one hour!)
It’s personal—she has an emotional reason to care.

Try it yourself:

  1. Take a boring desire (He wanted to win the race).
  2. Add urgency, stakes, and emotion (It was the last race of his career. If he lost, his father’s record would be broken).
  3. Make us feel why it matters.

Turn Up the Heat

Great storytelling isn’t just about what happens—it’s about how badly the character wants it.

When in doubt, make it worse, make it urgent, and make it personal.

Now go turn your lukewarm stories into page-burning, edge-of-your-seat narratives. 🚀🔥


Make People Care or Go Home

At the end of the day, storytelling isn’t about what happens. It’s about how much it matters.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking a story is just a sequence of events. It’s not. What makes a story stick is the emotional weight behind those events—the urgency, stakes, and raw human need that drive the character forward.

A Want Is Not Enough—The Audience Must Feel It

A character wanting something doesn’t make a story compelling. The audience needs to feel:

Why it matters.
What’s at stake if they fail.
How it affects them emotionally.

The difference between a meh story and a masterpiece is intensity. If the character can walk away from their goal without much consequence, the audience will walk away from your story just as easily.

Ask Yourself: “How Badly Do They Want It?”

Before you hit publish, before you send that script, before you call your story done—take a step back and ask:

👉 “How badly do they want it?”

If the answer isn’t desperately, your story isn’t ready. Go back and turn up the heat. Raise the stakes, deepen the emotional impact, and force your character to fight for it like their soul depends on it.

Because if your character doesn’t care with every fiber of their being—neither will your audience.

Now go tell some unforgettable stories. 🚀🔥

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