Ho ho ho Reader!

Every year, I celebrate the advent period by watching a holiday movie every day until Christmas. I love to revisit old favorites like A Christmas Story, Love Actually, The Muppet Christmas Carol (it’s the best one, truly), and Four Christmases, as well as see what’s new. I love the wide variety of stories told around the winter holidays, and the nostalgia so many of these movies bring.

Which brings me to this week’s selection, Home Alone. This timeless classic is often debated for its believability…but listen: Kevin was a Xennial left behind while his entire family flies to France, and he manages to defend his home from burglars as his mom spends days desperately trying to get back to him. The only thing I find unbelievable is that he was the youngest.

Underneath the slapstick and questionable details, Home Alone is a masterclass in leaving a trail of meticulous breadcrumbs that set up a massive payoff. Every moment in the final showdown with the Wet Bandits works because the movie has been quietly introducing Kevin McCallister’s world long before Harry and Marv ever step foot onto those icy stairs.

In storytelling, we talk a lot about the climax moment and building the momentum to get there. But Home Alone reminds us that climaxes that really land don’t materialize out of thin air.

They’re constructed, detail by detail.

The only reason we buy an eight-year-old taking down two grown-ass criminals is because the story has laid the foundation so well that the ending feels inevitable. Wild? Absolutely, but narratively inevitable.

This is the setup to the showdown: Kevin has precisely one hour to booby-trap his home, turning it into a cartoonishly violent obstacle course for the Wet Bandits.

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We’re invested in this moment because the movie has already shown us the pieces.

The traps aren’t random. They’re callbacks.

Everything Kevin does pulls from a breadcrumb that was dropped earlier in the film:

• The BB gun he plays with in the opening scenes
• The firecrackers he takes from Buzz's trunk
• The gangster movie he watches on repeat
• The basement, that previously terrified him
• The tarantula we already saw escape from Buzz’s room

Great storytelling is about the trail you lay to make the climax really land. In Home Alone, the breadcrumbing happens in three layers:

Character Breadcrumbs
We watch Kevin:

• grocery shop like a tiny adult
• problem-solve through everyday tasks
• confront fears one at a time (the furnace! the mysteriously creepy neighbor!)

So when he goes full MacGyver, it doesn’t feel out of character, it feels like a natural evolution of everything we’ve already seen out of him.

Environmental Breadcrumbs

We also learn the layout of the house throughout the movie:

• the staircase he sleds down
• the basement he’s initially afraid of
• the attic where he wakes up, then later escapes from
• the kitchen and back entrance

Spatial clarity gives us story clarity. You’re never confused about where danger is.

Emotional Breadcrumbs

Kevin’s loneliness, guilt, and desire for redemption give the climax heart. He’s not defending the house because it’s fun. He’s proving to himself (and ultimately, his family) that he’s not the helpless kid everyone framed him to be.

The Big Lesson

Breadcrumbs aren’t extra detail. They’re the scaffolding that makes the big moment land without wobble. Climaxes aren’t built at the end of the story, they’re built in Act One.

If you want your audience to believe the transformation, the breakthrough, the punchline, the emotional wallop…you have to bring them into the scene first.

Take a look at your own storytelling and ask yourself:

What breadcrumbs am I leaving for my audience? ​
​Are they leading toward the moment I actually want them to feel?

If not, you need better breadcrumbs. Here’s how to spread them:

1. Name your emotional destination. What do you want your audience to feel at the end?
2. Decide what belief, context, or worldview they need to hold for that feeling to make sense. Your audience can’t follow you somewhere they haven’t been prepared to go.
3. Seed that belief in small, intentional ways throughout the story. A line here. A moment there. A tiny clue tucked into your setup.

Breadcrumbs are really just emotional foreshadowing.

Your homework: Pick one story you’re telling this week—a keynote, your newsletter, your About page, even an IG story.

What’s the end feeling you want to create? And what breadcrumbs are you planting now to get them there?

Better breadcrumbs aren’t about more detail. They’re about placing the right detail in the right place so your ending feels inevitable.

I'd love to know: What's the holiday movie you rewatch every year?

Until next week,

P.S. I'm breaking down several of my holiday favorites this month. Since I already covered Love Actually in Week 6, you can revisit that one here.