Children learning to form letters and numbers make many mistakes. But if you ask children to tell you which of ten letters they've just scribed is best, their judgment will be flawless. They can discern quality long before they can produce it consistently.

As an aspiring writer, I sometimes feel the same way. I can read my own stories and recognize deficient elements (plot, characterization, description, etc.). Why, then, did I not write (or rewrite) to eliminate those deficiencies? Well, the truth is that perfecting one element of a story without compromising the others is an acquired skill. Some problems arise, almost inevitably, from the basic concept of a story. Others emerge as the writer focuses on a particular goal while neglecting others. Some problems can be mitigated by a bit of inspired editing, others are more systemic.

So how does one get better? The key, as with the child forming letters, is practice. Here's one approach I use.

When I finish a story, I identify its weakest element. A few months ago, I felt that plot was my personal nemesis. I had interesting characters in interesting settings, with interesting ideas behind the stories. But several stories came out feeling like strings of unrelated scenes. They rambled. The underlying conflict got lost, or was so weak to begin with that it failed to come through at all. I realized that plot was an obstacle for me: not just technically, but psychologically. I don't really see life in terms of escalating conflict, which is the usual way of understanding plot in fiction. I didn't want to plot.

So I decided to write a couple stories where the plot would take center stage. I made sure that the scenes hooked together like links of a chain. I made sure that the conflict and tension was never lost, and in fact mounted as the story moved forward. To keep the focus on the plot, I used a fast-paced, cinematic style of narration. The result was two stories ("The Warlord's Spirit" and "Skootra") that were brisk and fun, if somewhat spartan in their world-building and language.

Taking on my weak spot this way was a rewarding experience. I not only learned some points of craft, but I also overcame my personal resistance to plot as a story element. When I turned to my next story, I could challenge myself to work on style and atmosphere, confident that the plot would not embarrass me and undermine my efforts.

Successful writers, of course, ultimately focus on their areas of strength. A natural talent for characterization, dialog, description, etc., is part of what makes each writer distinctive and memorable. But a beginning writer can't afford to neglect the weak areas. A solid platform is needed to support those personal strengths. Build up all those writing muscles, especially the ones most in danger of atrophy!

In the same spirit, it is a good idea to do some reading outside your favorite genres. You might even write a story out of your usual genre, or incorporate some out-of-genre element. Try different lengths. Try working in a different region of the literary/commercial spectrum. Trying writing for an audience whose tastes are different from yours.

Not all these stretching exercises will produce great stories, but all of them will help make the next story better than the one before.