How to Use Tropes in Fiction

Tropes are the storytelling patterns writers return to again and again—the reluctant hero, the love triangle, the mentor who imparts just enough wisdom before disappearing. They’re not plotlines, exactly, but the recognizable shapes a story can take. Tropes are like signposts, guiding readers through familiar terrain. Encountering one can feel like running into an old friend—comforting, recognizable, and rich with possibilities—or, like bumping into someone you’d rather avoid because they’ve overstayed their welcome. The difference lies in how the trope is written: with nuance and creativity, or with the kind of predictability that leaves readers feeling uninspired.

While I’ve grown to appreciate the power of tropes, I didn’t always feel this way. When I first started studying writing, professors and instructors often made tropes out to be the villain of good storytelling. I heard it repeatedly: “Avoid clichés!” “Be original!” “Tropes are a crutch.” The message was clear—good writers didn’t rely on tropes, and great writers never used them. I feared that if I leaned on tropes, my work would never stand out, let alone be published.

As I gained more experience as a writer and continued to read fiction widely—everything from literary fiction to romance to thrillers—I realized the truth: tropes are everywhere, and for good reason. Tropes tap into universal emotions and expectations that resonate with readers. In genre fiction, they’re often the glue holding the story together, like how romance novels promise a happily-ever-after or how a whodunit guarantees the killer will be revealed. Even some of the best and most decorated literary fiction relies on familiar storytelling frameworks, like the hero’s journey or the coming-of-age story.

For fiction writers, tropes can be both a gift and a challenge. On the plus side, they offer a kind of narrative shorthand. A trope provides a structure that resonates because it’s been tested by time. Readers understand, almost instinctively, what a “chosen one” or “fish out of water” story promises. That understanding gives writers the freedom to play—to fill in the framework with their own voice, characters, and twists.

But like many writers, I’ve wrestled with the downside of tropes, too. Overreliance can make a story feel stale, and clichés often emerge when a trope is used without nuance. How many flat “damsels in distress” or one-dimensional “villains with a tragic past” have left you rolling your eyes? Recognize that tropes themselves aren’t the problem—it’s how we use them—and accept the challenge to learn how to write them well.

For me, the turning point came when I stopped treating tropes like a disease my prose had contracted and must be cured of, and started viewing them as opportunities for exploration. When I embraced them with intention, I found ways to make them my own, and realized how I could use the framework to draw readers in with the comfort of familiarity while surprising them with something fresh.

Five Tips for Using Tropes Effectively

1. Subvert Expectations: Take a well-loved trope and flip it. What if the “chosen one” refuses their destiny—or turns out to be the villain? Surprise your readers by defying their assumptions.
2. Blend Tropes: Combine tropes from different genres to create something fresh. A love story with a mystery subplot or a fantasy adventure infused with rom-com humor can add depth and excitement.
3. Layer Complexity: Add emotional or thematic depth to tropes. If you’re writing a “reluctant hero,” explore not just their hesitation but the personal stakes or trauma that fuels it.
4. Adapt Tropes for Character: Use tropes as a lens through which your characters reveal themselves. How they interact with the “found family” trope, for instance, can show their vulnerabilities, needs, and growth.
5. Write with Intention: Don’t use a trope just because it’s expected. Be intentional about why it belongs in your story and what fresh perspective you can bring to it.

At their best, tropes are tools, not traps. They give writers a starting point but never the whole story. Whether I’m leaning into a well-loved trope or twisting it into something unexpected, I’ve learned to appreciate their versatility and emotional power. As writers, we don’t need to fear tropes. Instead, we can use them to connect with readers in ways that feel both timeless and uniquely ours.

Like a Cozy Sweater: Why Readers Love the Comfort of Familiar Stories

As I discussed above, tropes are storytelling patterns that can either elevate or sink a narrative depending on how they’re used. But there’s another side to this story: many readers adore tropes. They don’t just tolerate them; some readers seek them out like a cozy old sweater past its prime, but always feels like a warm hug when you put it on.

I never used to trust this concept. When I first started writing, I thought every story had to be startlingly original to resonate. Tropes, I believed, were shortcuts for writers who didn’t want to do the hard work of invention. They were for the uninspired writers, and only resonated with lazy readers. I, obviously, was wrong. When I joined a book club, my perspective on how readers view tropes began to shift even more.

This particular book club was comprised of an eclectic bunch—some members devoured romance, others preferred mysteries or literary fiction. But one thing united us: the joy of discussing how stories made us feel. As we dissected novels, I noticed how often we brought up tropes. A thriller fan loved the “race against time” trope because she loved the challenge of trying to solve the mystery before the big reveal. The romance readers couldn’t get enough of enemies-to-lovers because, as one put it, “the bickering tends to make the sex better.” Even the literary purists admitted they appreciated the occasional coming-of-age arc or an epic “hero’s journey.”

Hearing these perspectives, I helped me realize tropes are often the reason readers pick up a story in the first place. They create expectations that invite readers in, promising emotional payoffs they’ve come to cherish. The detective will solve the case. The rivals will fall in love. The ragtag team of misfits will save the day—and in the process, become a family.

So, why do readers love these patterns so much?

For one, tropes provide a sense of stability in a chaotic world. Life rarely follows a neat narrative arc, but stories can. When a trope is used well, it offers a comforting predictability while leaving room for surprises along the way. It’s not that readers want the entire story spoiled; they just want the reassurance that the ending will satisfy the emotional contract the story has made.

Tropes also allow readers to experience emotions they crave. Take the “second chance” trope—who hasn’t wished for a do-over with a lost love or a missed opportunity? Or the “found family” trope, which offers hope to anyone who’s felt like they didn’t belong. These tropes tap into universal longings, making stories feel personal and deeply relatable.

As a writer, I’ve learned to think of tropes as bridges between my imagination and my readers’ hearts. They’re not constraints but opportunities—frameworks I can use to create emotional resonance. The trick is to respect the reader’s familiarity with a trope while still making it feel fresh.

For example, in my own work, I once leaned into the classic “reluctant hero” trope. My protagonist didn’t want to leave her small, safe world, but life kept nudging her toward change. I was worried it might feel predictable—another reluctant hero reluctantly finding her strength. So, I flipped the stakes. Instead of battling an external force, her journey was inward. She had to confront not a villain but the parts of herself she wanted to ignore. The result still hit the familiar beats of the trope, but with enough nuance to make it feel uniquely hers.

Readers responded to that story more enthusiastically than I expected. They recognized the trope but appreciated the twist. That’s the magic of tropes—they don’t have to feel tired if you approach them with intention and creativity.

Ultimately, tropes endure because they speak to something timeless in us. They’re not just storytelling tools; they’re mirrors reflecting our deepest hopes and fears. Readers don’t love tropes because they’re formulaic. They love them because they remind us of the stories we’ve always loved and the ones we long to live.