This is Story Fanatic, a collection of articles covering story structure and analysis for
creative writers. Published weekly.
At the end of every complete story, the Main Character will be faced with an important decision: either continue to solve problems the way he or she always has, or change their approach and attempt to solve the problem differently. The Main Character Resolve determines what their answer will be. If they maintain their approach they are said to be Steadfast. If they adopt a new paradigm, they are said to be Change.
Every writer has heard of bookends, or “framing devices”, but far fewer really understand the purpose behind them, or how they can be used to effectively tell a meaningful story. Beyond simply providing a wrapper for the story within, they can also be used to help an Author more effectively communicate the message of their work.
Why is it many can be so quick to brush off a particular understanding of story structure? Having their trust so completely eroded by those who came before, those who tried and failed to explain the real purpose of story, many would rather stick their head in the sand than experience further disappointment. The time may have come for those individuals to dip their toes in the water once again.
The central character of every great story must “arc.” Everyone knows this, yet many do not completely understand what it means. Assumptions are made that change is required, that without some greater need replacing a motivated want, a character somehow “doesn’t work.” This error in judgment can easily be overcome by appreciating the difference between this most important character and the story at large.
Constructive criticism is hard to come by in the online world of film analysis. Most can tell when a story is in need of serious work, but often stammer and guess as to precisely what is wrong. The latest revenge thriller Hanna is one of those films. Using the Dramatica theory of story and its baseline that every complete story is based on the mechanism of the human mind, several decisive actions are outlined for improving the overall meaning of this film.
In film schools across the country and in screenwriting books dating back to the previous century, the apparent inequity between what a hero wants and what he truly needs is held is held up as the standard for establishing a character’s motivation. The problem for the creative writer occurs when they actually try to put this concept into practice. How can an appreciation of a story’s meaning, one made after the fact by an Audience, become a useful tool for the working writer?
Dividing up lead characters into the two categories of Learning and Teaching can be a useful exercise after the act of creating a story, but becomes less helpful in the development cycle of a piece of narrative fiction. Instead, it becomes more beneficial to think in terms of the central character’s final resolve: do they change their way of doing things, or do they dig in their heels and forge on the way they always have?
The idea that a Main Character must always change runs counter to many a writer’s intuition. A more productive approach would be to focus on the growth that character undergoes as they deal with the build-up in pressure over the course of the story. This development can be likened to the tender balance that exists when one visits the deep blue sea.
Perception often leads to deception; how one sees the world of story shapes their understanding of it, granting them all sorts of interpretations that may or may not be accurate. As with Christopher Nolan’s dark treatise on dueling magicians, unveiling what is really going on within a story can lead to an emotional catharsis for writers themselves; leading them to even greater expressions of meaningful fiction.
Stories are a decidedly human adventure and thus are prone to the inaccuracies and preconceptions prevalent within the minds of those who experience them. It is with that in mind that I confess an error in my original evaluation of Toy Story 3. If context creates meaning, then it also can be seen as the source for any miscalculations in the judgment of a story’s ultimate message.
There are two ways to adapt a favorite novel or short story for the silver screen – the right way and the wrong way. The first requires a comprehensive understanding of the original source material. The second only needs an ambivalence towards the mechanism behind what makes great stories great.
Identifying the problem within a screenplay is one thing, offering up a viable workable solution is another. The key is honoring the work that is already there. Healing a false moment, like resolving the differences between two characters, should come as a natural progression of events and inflict the least amount of damage in the process.
A complete story combines character, plot, theme and genre into a delicious concert of meaning that both satisfies and fulfills the appetites of avid moviegoers everywhere. If just one bit is slightly off, it can make all the difference between a film destined for the 5$ bin and one destined for the halls of the timeless classics. Toy Story 3 may defy that convention.
No matter how hard one tries, it is damn near impossible to avoid contact with the Hero’s Journey paradigm within the context of story structure. This nearly omniscient presence of the monomyth serves only to further muddle the conversation and mislead potential writers from their true selves. Structure exists to carry the message, not inform it.
Complete stories, the ones we love and cherish, are those that are trying to say something beyond the spectacle. Where the Main Character ends up at the end of a screenplay or novel plays an essential part in providing that meaning.
Far too often, experts on screenwriting and storytelling fall back on the inaccurate assumption that a Main Character must completely transform themselves. This is only correct for half of the stories ever written.
Character arc does not mean a character has to change. It simply doesn’t. What it does mean is that a character needs to grow to a point where they are not sure whether to change, or to dig in their heels.
An examination of the sci-fi psychological thriller Moon and the missed opportunities for story greatness. While the film raises interesting questions, it fails to compose the complete argument necessary to provide us with meaningful answers.
Films can have the same story structure, yet be so different in their storytelling that most normal people would rarely identify them as being the same. Story fanatics are not normal people. The Sixth Sense and Into The Wild – two films that couldn’t be more different in subject matter and genre – have almost the same exact structure, sharing many of the same thematic issues.
The concept of the character arc is often thought to explain the transformation a Main Character goes through over the course of a story. The problem with this definition is the idea of “transformation”. Not every Main Character completely changes, nor do they have to. Growth can occur without losing oneself.
A detailed look at the thought process I went into while analyzing I Am Legend.
An interesting look at the character primarily responsible for influencing growth in the Main Character.
Using concepts found in the Dramatica theory of story to write a story with your audience in mind.
An exploration of the idea that all Character is fate.
Stories become meaningless when both principal characters change the way they see the world.
How to determine whether or not your Main Character has changed their essential nature or remained steadfast.
Clarifying change in characters other than the Main Character.
Techniques to free up what might seem like a rigid tool for writing stories.
Quick thoughts on the relation between the resolves of the two principal characters.
Defining the difference between a character who “changes” and one who “grows.”
A quick thought on why Main Characters in most children’s stories do not change.
Continuing exploration of problem-solving and justification. Here we take a look at the nature of the Steadfast Main Character.
Dramatica can seem a bit overwhelming when you first start out. I remember flipping through the dictionary at the back of the theory book and thinking, “This is insane!” But after eight years of working with it, I’ve got the model pretty much memorized (at least down to the Variation level) and have a pretty good understanding of each of the terms.
A neat way of clarifying the judgment on your Main Character.
As with all things Dramatica, the Main Character Dynamics (Resolve, Growth, Approach and Mental Sex) can be seen as relating together in a single quad.
How tension builds in a story.
The nature of act turns in relation to the growth of the Main Character.
Not all Steadfast characters are created equal.
Determining what kind of a Main Character you are writing.
Which one does the Main Character open?