The Three-Role Model

As an engineer, you are building a machine. Every single part must serve a purpose. If there is no purpose, drop it.

Start with percentages. Break your essay into sections and assign each one a rough percentage of the total word count. A reasonable starting point: 25% for the introduction, 55–60% for the body, and 15–20% for the conclusion. You can adjust these numbers, but they must be intentional. Mr. Chan has read student essays where the introduction consumed over half the word count and the conclusion was a single sentence. That is not balanced.

Then do the math. If the word limit is 650 words and you allocate 25% to the introduction, that gives you roughly 160 words. An average sentence is about 10 words, so you have approximately 16 sentences for the introduction. Now ask yourself critically: how are you allocating those 16 sentences? What thought or moment earns each one?

Apply this to every section. The body at 55% gives you about 360 words — roughly 36 sentences. Break the body into paragraphs and allocate sentences to each. This is your budget. This is the constraint you are working with. That is the life of an engineer.

Complete this process before you start writing. It makes no sense to begin without it. Students who skip this step write freely at first, which feels good, but then face the brutal task of cutting a 1,500-word draft down to 650 words when every sentence feels important. That is a pain no one enjoys. Plan like an engineer, and the writing becomes far easier.

As a writer, you bring substance to the structure. And there are two things human beings are drawn to in every great story: contrast and conflict.

Before you write your outline, identify what kind of conflict your essay is about. There are three main types:

Mr. Chan recalls reading an essay from a student who was extraordinarily talented in art — a student whose work, along with one peer, had been auctioned for a collective $400,000. This student wrote a simple story about the conflict with his mother, who opposed his decision to pursue art as a career. He described how he fought for her trust and eventually won her belief in his dedication. The immediate reaction after reading: there was nothing to critique. The voice was genuine, the contrast was sharp, the conflict was clear and specific, and the resolution was satisfying.

Show the resolution. If you introduce a conflict, you must resolve it. Give the reader a complete story. This is also why the outline process matters so much — you need to plan the arc from conflict to resolution before you start writing, not discover it along the way.

As a director, you are planning for impact. You are looking at your essay the way a filmmaker looks at a script and asking one question: would this make a good movie?

Think about the films or stories that left a strong impression on you. Something about them was moving, striking, or unforgettable. That is what your essay needs. When you look at your outline, you should be able to point to the part that will leave a lasting impression on the reader.

If the story feels flat, change it. Do not start writing something you already know will not produce a blockbuster. If during the planning stage you look at your sketch and think “this is kind of flat,” that is the time to rework it — not after you have written three drafts.

Plan like an engineer. Write like an author. Direct like a filmmaker. If you can see the blockbuster in your outline before you write a single word, the essay will take care of itself.