When we think of a story, the first thing we think of is usually what it's about—in other words, the plot. From humble beginnings to a grand adventure, twists and turns, and an epic conclusion, it's the reason a story exists, and the thing that drives it forward. For a casual reader, the plot is about the only thing they notice consciously ... but in all but the most haphazard of writing, there's a lot more going on below the surface.

While the average reader isn't necessarily aware of these additional layers, they can sense when they're absent, ill-considered, or otherwise not working. Unsung as they may be, they're an essential component of your story's structure, and demand just as much consideration in your writing as the overall plot.

What these layers are, exactly, depends on the story you're trying to tell. In a tale of a farmhand who takes up arms to defend his country, it might be the classism he faces as he rises through the ranks. For the young woman who falls for a married man, it could be the judgement she experiences from her friends and family. In the case of a holy man having a crisis of faith, maybe it's his thoughts on the nature of existence in the absence of a creator. Whatever it is, in most cases, it's something deeply emotional and personal.

When a casual reader thinks back on these stories, the things they're most likely to look back on are the former farmhand's victory over the invaders, the young lady's happily ever after, and the priest's absolution. They may even think that these were the things that made them enjoy the book as much as they did. In a lot of cases, however, the real source of their enthusiasm was the emotional complexities of the characters as they navigated these experiences.

In a sense, the job of the writer is to know the reader better than themselves; to know what it is that will truly satisfy them, even if they don't. But before we can do that, we first have to know what satisfies us.