The StoryBrand framework for SaaS and eCommerce: clarifying value so customers act

Your customer is the hero, and your brand is the guide

Most websites tell the company's story. Founded in a garage, award winning, passionate about innovation. The visitor scrolls past, looking for one thing: is this for me, and what do I do next?

The StoryBrand framework is Donald Miller's answer to that. It borrows the shape of almost every film you have ever watched. A hero wants something, runs into trouble, meets someone wiser who hands them a plan, and either wins or loses. Miller's point is that your customer is the hero of that story and your business is the guide. The moment a brand casts itself as the hero, the customer has nobody to root for except themselves, and they leave.

Miller set this out in his book Building a StoryBrand, and a revised edition, Building a StoryBrand 2.0, came out from HarperCollins Leadership on 7 January 2025.¹ The framework has seven parts, and his company calls it the SB7 Framework. StoryBrand, SB7 and the BrandScript are his company's intellectual property, so I name them as his and describe them in my own words rather than reproduce his worksheets.²

I have used it on homepages, product pages and emails for a good few years. It is one of the most useful tools I own for one job: turning a muddle of features into a message a stranger understands in seconds. It is also only a copywriting framework, and I will be just as plain about where it stops.

Worked example: the two businesses in this article

Two invented businesses carry us through. Neither is real, and no client sits behind either.

Tallyhut is a small software company in Cork. It sells job sheets, quotes and invoicing for independent electricians and plumbers, at €24 a month. Aoife runs it with one developer. Its website lives at tallyhut.example.

Corrib Leaf is an online tea shop in Galway. It sells loose leaf tea, blended in a unit in Oranmore, Co. Galway, with most tins between €8 and €14. Darragh runs it. Its shop lives at corribleaf.example.

Here is how Tallyhut's homepage opened before anyone thought about story:

Tallyhut. The all in one business management platform, powered by smart automation. Trusted by tradespeople. Start your free trial.

Every word is true. None of it tells an electrician in Mallow why he should care. I will rebuild it one part at a time.

The seven parts, in Miller's order

Miller describes the framework as one sentence, with each part a clause. In my words: a character who wants something has a problem, meets a guide who understands them, who gives them a plan and calls them to action, which helps them avoid failure and ends in success.³

His own workbook for the framework lists each part with a principle attached.³ Paraphrased, they run like this:

1. A character. The customer is the hero, not your brand. The story starts when you name something they want.
2. With a problem. Conflict is what makes a story interesting, so you talk about the customer's problem again and again.
3. Meets a guide. Customers are not looking for another hero. They are looking for someone to help them win.
4. Who gives them a plan. A guide with a plan is trusted, because a plan makes the first step feel small.
5. And calls them to action. People do not act unless someone asks them to, clearly.
6. That helps them avoid failure. Something must be at stake, or there is no story.
7. And ends in success. Never assume people can picture the good ending. Tell them.

The order matters. The customer and their problem come first, before a single word about you.

The diagram reads from the top. The first five boxes are the story you tell. The decision is the customer's, not yours. The two branches are the stakes, success if they act and failure if they do not, and both have to be written down, because a reader cannot feel a stake you never named.

Part one: a character who wants something

A story begins when a hero wants something specific. Not "growth" or "efficiency". Something you could photograph. Miller's workbook says the story only takes shape once that want is defined clearly.³ In my experience that means one desire, kept narrow, because a brand that promises everything gives the reader nothing to hold.

The hard part is choosing. Tallyhut's software does twenty things. The customer wants one of them badly enough to change how they work.

Worked example: what does Tallyhut's hero want?

Aoife lists what customers say when they sign up. Three answers repeat: "I want to stop doing invoices on a Sunday night", "I want to get paid faster", and "I want quotes that look professional".

She picks the first, because it is the one they say with feeling. The desire becomes: an electrician wants his evenings back.

That one sentence already rules out half the old homepage. "Business management platform" is about Tallyhut. "Your evenings back" is about him.

Part two: a problem on three levels

The problem is where the story gets its grip. Miller splits it into three levels, and this is the most useful idea in the whole framework.³

• External: the practical, visible problem. The thing you could point at.
• Internal: how that problem makes the customer feel.
• Philosophical: why it is plain wrong that anyone should have to put up with it.

His workbook puts the reason in one line: "Companies sell solutions to external problems, but customers buy solutions to internal problems."³ It also adds a villain, the root cause of the problem, so the customer has something to be against.

Most copy I review names only the external problem, which is why it reads like a specification sheet.

Worked example: Tallyhut's problem, three ways

• External: paperwork piles up, because job notes live on scraps of paper and invoices are typed up later.
• Internal: he feels like he is running two jobs, and the second one is the one he is bad at.
• Philosophical: someone who has done a full day's skilled work should not spend the evening doing admin.
• Villain: the paperwork that follows him home.

Worked example: Corrib Leaf's problem, three ways

A shop has a problem to solve too, even when it sells something pleasant. Darragh asks ten regular customers why they first ordered.

• External: supermarket tea bags taste of very little.
• Internal: the one ten minute break in the day feels like a disappointment.
• Philosophical: a good cup of tea should not be a luxury.
• Villain: dusty tea bags that have sat in a warehouse for months.

Neither list mentions the product. That comes next, as the guide.

Part three: a guide with empathy and authority

The guide is not the hero. Luke Skywalker is the hero, Yoda is the guide, and Miller uses exactly those films to make the point.³ The guide has already been where the hero is, and knows the way out.

According to the workbook, a brand positions itself as the guide by doing two things: expressing empathy and demonstrating authority.³ Empathy is a sentence that shows you understand the frustration. Authority is evidence you can help: numbers, testimonials, qualifications, the years you have spent on exactly this.

Empathy without authority is a friend who means well. Authority without empathy is the agency pitch deck with forty logos and no idea what your Tuesday looks like.

Worked example: Tallyhut's guide lines

Empathy: "Nobody becomes an electrician to do paperwork."

Authority: Aoife was a bookkeeper for trades businesses for nine years before she built Tallyhut. She has 640 paying customers in Munster and Connacht. One of them, a plumber in Limerick, wrote: "I send the invoice from the van before I've the tools packed away."

Each authority line is true and specific. That matters more than the framework does. A made up statistic in the authority slot is not storytelling, it is a false claim.

Worked example: Corrib Leaf's guide lines

Empathy: "Your tea break should be the best ten minutes of the day."

Authority: every blend is mixed by hand in Galway in small batches, packed within a week, and the tasting notes come from Darragh, who will answer if you reply to the order email. Three reviews quoted word for word, with the reviewer's first name and town.

Part four: a plan the customer can see

At this point the customer believes you can help, and still does not buy. Miller's reasoning is that this is the first moment they are at risk. They could lose money, time or face, so they put the decision off because it feels confusing.³

The answer is a plan: three or four simple steps that make working with you look easy. The workbook calls this a process plan and suggests giving it a name.³ Its checklist also asks whether you have made a value agreement with customers.³ I write that as a short list of promises that removes a specific fear, such as "no contract" or "free returns", and call it the agreement. The point of both is the same. The customer should be able to see the whole path before they take the first step.

Worked example: Tallyhut's three step plan

1. Add your price list (or let us import the spreadsheet you already have).
2. Write up each job on your phone while you are still on site.
3. Send the invoice before you leave the driveway.

And the agreement, under it: "No contract. Cancel in two taps. Your data exports as a spreadsheet whenever you want it."

Notice the steps are what the customer does, not what the software does. "Smart automation" is a feature. "Send the invoice before you leave the driveway" is a step a person can imagine taking.

Worked example: Corrib Leaf's three step plan

1. Tell us how you take your tea (strong, with milk, or something lighter).
2. Try three tins in a sampler for €12.
3. Reorder your favourite, or let us send it every month.

Agreement: "If you don't like a tin, tell me and I'll swap it, no bother."

Part five: a call to action, direct and transitional

Miller is blunt here. People do not act unless they are challenged to, and nobody can read your mind.³ So the call to action must be clear, and repeated in the same words.

He separates two kinds:³

• A direct call to action is the main ask: buy, book, start the trial. It should be the obvious button on the page.
• A transitional call to action is a smaller step for people who are not ready: a guide, a sample, a checklist. It earns trust by being useful, and keeps you in touch until they are ready.

This matches how people actually buy. The first visit is rarely the buying visit.

Worked example: Tallyhut's calls to action

Direct: "Start your 14 day trial". On every section of the page, in the same words.

Transitional: "Get the one page price list template", a free download for electricians who are not ready to change software but are fed up with their current price list.

Out goes "Learn more", which asks the reader to work out what more there is.

Worked example: Corrib Leaf's calls to action

Direct: "Try the three tin sampler". Transitional: "Find your tea in four questions", a short quiz that recommends a blend and asks, at the end, whether the customer wants the recommendation by email.

The quiz is only fair if it is honest about that last step. If the email box is required to see the answer, it is not a transitional call to action, it is a toll gate. I would show the answer either way and make the email optional.

Parts six and seven: what is at stake

The last two parts are the two outcomes. People are motivated to avoid something bad and to get something good, and the workbook asks you to write down both.³

Failure is what the customer loses if they do nothing. Miller's own image is that if the BrandScript is a recipe for bread, failure is the salt: you need a little, not much.³ His workbook also warns that scaring people too much makes them disengage.³ I would put it more strongly. Fear is the laziest trick in marketing copy, and readers can smell it.

Success is the picture of life after the problem is solved. The workbook calls it the flour of the recipe, the bulk of the message.³ Be specific. "Peace of mind" is not a picture. "Sunday evenings on the couch" is.

Worked example: what is at stake for Tallyhut

Failure, one line: "Every invoice you send late is a week longer waiting to be paid."

Success, three lines: "Evenings off. Invoices out the same day. Customers who pay faster because the bill arrived while they still remember the job."

Worked example: what is at stake for the tea shop

Failure, kept gentle because it is tea: "Life's too short for another weak cup."

Success: "A proper pot at eleven, and the one tin you always come back to arriving before you run out."

Putting it together: the BrandScript and the page

Miller's company calls the filled in version of all seven parts a BrandScript: one page with a few lines per part.³ It is not copy for the website. It is the source the copy is written from, so every page, email and ad tells the same story.

From it, a homepage writes itself in a predictable order. The workbook's own website checklist asks for a direct call to action above the fold, calls to action on every page, a transitional offer, and images of the customer after the problem is solved.³ My usual running order is:

1. A headline that names the desire, a subheading that names the problem, and the direct call to action.
2. The stakes, briefly.
3. The guide: one line of empathy, then the evidence.
4. The plan, in three steps.
5. The picture of success.
6. The transitional call to action, then the direct one again.

Worked example: Tallyhut's homepage, before and after

Before:

Tallyhut. The all in one business management platform, powered by smart automation. Trusted by tradespeople. Start your free trial.

After, top of the page:

Your evenings back. Job sheets, quotes and invoices for electricians and plumbers, done on your phone before you leave the job. [Start your 14 day trial]

Further down, in order: "Nobody becomes an electrician to do paperwork", Aoife's nine years as a trades bookkeeper and the Limerick plumber's quote, the three steps, the agreement, "Evenings off. Invoices out the same day.", the price list template, and the trial button again.

The customer is in every sentence and Tallyhut in almost none. The features did not vanish. They moved down the page, where an interested reader goes looking for them.

A shop tells the story on the product page

eCommerce shops tend to apply StoryBrand to the homepage and stop. But many shop visitors never see the homepage. They land on a product page from a search or an ad, so that page has to carry a small version of the whole story.

The trick is proportion. A product page is mostly specification, and should stay that way: tea buyers want the weight, the origin and how to brew it. The story is three or four lines at the top, and the specification sits underneath as proof.

Worked example: Corrib Leaf's breakfast blend, before and after

Before:

Corrib Breakfast. Assam and Ceylon blend. 125g tin. Malty, full bodied. Brew at 100°C for four minutes. €9.50. Add to basket.

After:

The one that stands up to milk. Strong enough for the first cup of the morning, smooth enough for the third. Blended by hand in Galway, packed within a week. €9.50 for a 125g tin, about 50 cups. [Add to basket] Not sure yet? Try it in the three tin sampler for €12. Assam and Ceylon. Brew at 100°C for four minutes. If you don't like it, tell me and I'll swap it, no bother.

Line by line: the headline is the desire (a proper strong cup). The subheading carries the problem and the success. The hand blending and packing date are the authority. "About 50 cups" turns a price into a picture. The sampler is the transitional call to action. The swap promise is the agreement. The specification is all still there, below the story, where it reads as evidence instead of a wall.

The cups figure is simple arithmetic, and it should be checked rather than guessed:

$$c = \frac{w}{g}$$

Here $c$ is the number of cups in the tin, $w$ is the weight of leaf in the tin in grams, and $g$ is the grams of leaf used per cup. Darragh's brewing guide says 2.5g a cup, so $c = \frac{125}{2.5} = 50$. If his guide said 3g, $c$ would be about 42, and the line would have to say "about 40 cups". It is a plain rate, the same idea as Foundations: ratios and rates. The story can be warm. The numbers in it must be exact.

Where StoryBrand stops: it is not research

Here is the limit I most want you to remember. StoryBrand tells you how to arrange a message. It does not tell you what the message should be.

Every slot in the BrandScript is a guess until real customers have filled it. The framework asks for the customer's internal problem, but it cannot tell you what that problem is. If you fill it in at your desk, you get a beautifully structured story about a customer who does not exist.

This is where I lean on research methods, above all Jobs To Be Done (JTBD) interviews. Those find out what people were trying to get done when they bought, in their own words. StoryBrand then gives those words a shape. Research first, structure second.

Worked example: when Tallyhut guessed wrong

Imagine Aoife had skipped the customer interviews and written the BrandScript from her own instinct. As a former bookkeeper, she would likely have chosen "getting paid faster" as the desire, because cash flow is what bookkeepers worry about.

Then she talks to ten customers properly, asking what was happening the week they signed up. Seven describe an evening, a weekend, or a partner who was fed up with paperwork on the kitchen table. Two mention cash flow. One mentions a quote that looked amateur next to a competitor's.

Seven out of ten is a clear direction from a small sample, not a statistic, and Aoife treats it that way. But it changes the headline from "Get paid faster" to "Your evenings back", and keeps faster payment as a success line further down. The framework did not find that. The conversations did.

Where it goes wrong: every brand starts to sound the same

The second limit is the price of the framework's success. Building a StoryBrand has sold widely (Miller's own site claims over a million copies), and StoryBrand certifies outside guides to sell the framework to their clients.⁴² Followed mechanically, it produces the same page every time: a headline promising a transformation, a three step plan, "stop struggling with X", a green button.

When every competitor's homepage has the same shape, the shape stops helping. The reader recognises the template and starts skimming.

Worked example: three trades software homepages

Picture an electrician comparing three competitors to Tallyhut, all written straight from the template:

• "Stop drowning in paperwork. Get back to the work you love. Three simple steps."
• "Paperwork holding you back? Take control of your business. Three simple steps."
• "Tired of admin? Run your business, not your paperwork. Three simple steps."

Each is grand on its own. Side by side, they cancel each other out. The way out is not to drop the structure but to fill it with what only you can say: Aoife's nine years as a trades bookkeeper, the Limerick plumber who invoices from the van. Specific, true details are the one thing a template cannot copy.

My working rule: keep the order, lose the stock phrases. If a line could sit on a competitor's homepage unchanged, rewrite it until it could not.

Other honest limits

• It does not prove anything works. The book's claims about results are the company's own claims, not independent studies.⁴ I have seen StoryBrand rewrites lift enquiries and I have seen them change nothing. The only way to know for your page is to measure it, ideally with an A/B test sized properly in advance. I explain how much data that needs separately.
• It is built for one buyer with one problem. A SaaS product sold to a business often has three buyers (the user, the finance person and the boss), each with a different internal problem. You may need one story per audience, which is a message and market fit question as much as a copy question.
• It is a messaging tool, not a usability fix. Clear words on a page with a broken form still lose people. I cover the rest of that review in the Clarity Framework.
• The failure slot is easy to abuse. Invented urgency and fear are tempting to write and corrosive to trust. Miller says himself to keep it small.³

None of this makes StoryBrand less useful. It puts it in its place: a sharp tool for one job.

How I use it in practice

In my own work, the order is always the same.

1. Talk to customers first, at least five to ten of them, and collect their words.
2. Fill in all seven parts on one page, using those words wherever possible.
3. Check every authority line is true and every number is exact.
4. Write the homepage and the most visited product or feature pages from that one page.
5. Hunt for stock phrases and replace each with something only this business could say.
6. Measure before and after with consented analytics, and test if the traffic allows.

Worked example: a week with Corrib Leaf

Day one, Darragh emails ten regular customers and gets six replies. Day two, he fills in the seven parts on one sheet, borrowing "the one that stands up to milk" straight from a reply. Day three, he rewrites the homepage and his five best selling product pages. Day four, he reads them aloud and cuts every phrase he has seen on another tea shop's site. Day five, he notes the current conversion rate on those pages, so in a month he can compare honestly. He calls it a before and after, not a test, because a shop his size rarely has the traffic for a proper one.

The short version

StoryBrand is Donald Miller's seven part framework for turning a business's message into a story with the customer as hero: a character who wants something, a problem on three levels, a guide with empathy and authority, a plan, a call to action, and the stakes of failure and success.

It is excellent at structure. It makes you lead with the customer, name their problem, show the path and ask clearly. It is not research, and it will not tell you what your customers actually want. Followed mechanically, it makes you sound like everyone else who read the same book.

So talk to customers first, use the seven parts to arrange what they told you, fill every slot with details only you can claim, and measure what changes.

Footnotes

1. NetGalley, Building a StoryBrand 2.0 by Donald Miller, catalogue listing, HarperCollins Leadership, 2025, https://netgalley.com/catalog/book/472865

2. StoryBrand, StoryBrand Guide Certification licensing agreement, Donald Miller Words LLC, 2026, https://storybrand.com/certified-licensing-agreement/

3. Donald Miller, StoryBrand Online Marketing Course Workbook, Donald Miller Words LLC, 2018, https://storybrand.com/downloads/StoryBrand-Online-Marketing-Course-Workbook.pdf

4. StoryBrand, Building a StoryBrand 2.0 book page, Donald Miller Words LLC, 2026, https://storybrand.com/building-a-storybrand-book-new/