Narrative Theory & Beyond Order

A few minutes ago I finished reading Jordan Peterson's book BEYOND ORDER: 12 More Rules for Life. 

I normally do not write book reviews on this blog, and I hope this post doesn't turn into one. But I mention it here on the Moral Premise Storycraft Blog because Beyond Order has a great deal to say about Storytelling and Narrative Theory. 

While I enjoyed and heavily endorsed his 12 Rules for Life, Beyond Order is better.  I think Beyond Order is better written and edited, but it also has more explicit things to say about Storytelling and its importance to culture... things I have said for decades.  

Unlike many people who comment on Peterson's work, his writings have not revolutionized my life, but they have reinforced my worldview and how I attempt to live it. The life principles he examines are very much how I was brought up by responsible parents within a Biblical Christian worldview. But yes, Peterson challenges me (he often sounds like St. Paul) in areas of my life where I am weak and need improvement. Don't we all? In that respect, I hope his words will motivate me to change what needs to change. 

Peterson's view of the world in which we live as a frightfully terrible place should have deep resonance with most of us. It does for me, but then I was born, and my Mother exacerbated, my melancholy-choleric temperament. Peterson's understanding of the malevolence in the world, however, dovetails with a story's need for an overpowering antagonist or villain that threatens the protagonist at every turn. 

In speaking of Friedrich Nietzsche, (who was the philosophical inspiration behind Kubrick's 2001: A Space Odyssey, my all time favorite movie) Peterson does a concise and resonant explanation of Nietzsche's famous "God is Dead" pronouncement. Peterson writes: 

[Nietzsche's] fear that all the Judeo-Christian values serving as the foundation of Western Civilization had been made dangerously subject to casual rational criticism, and ... the existence of the transcendent, all-powerful deity—had been fatally challenged.  Nietzsche concluded from this that everything would soon fall apart, in a manner catastrophic both psychologically and socially. (p. 161-162)

I guess Nietzsche was write. Of course God is not dead in a literal sense, unless your POV is the current social-political culture. Least the importance of that to successful storytelling slip by, this fits well with the concept of the Moral Premise—

Ignoring Natural Law (transcendent reality and the values of Western Civilization) leads to psychological and social catastrophe; but Building up Natural Law et al leads to psychological and social harmony. 

If your story deals with the plight of persons trapped in poverty and their grit and determination to claw their way out, Peterson offers this juice fodder for story development.

There are many reasons... why people are poor. Lack of money is the obvious cause—but that hypothetical obviousness is part of the problem with ideology. Lack of education, broken families, crime-ridden neighborhoods, alcoholism, drug abuse, criminality and corruption (and the   political and economic exploitation that accompanies it), mental illness, lack of a life plan (or even failure to realize that formulating such a plan is possible or necessary), low conscientiousness, unfortunate geographical locale, shift in the economic landscape, and the consequent disappearance of entire fields of endeavor, the marked proclivity for those who are rich to get richer still and the poor to get poorer, low creativity/entrepreneurial interest, (and) lack of encouragement.  (p. 169)

Just the statement of Rule XI, Do Not Allow Yourself To Become Resentful, Deceitful, or Arrogant sounds to me like part of a Moral Premise Statement. Not only does it provide several ideas for the negative side of the moral premise, but it suggests that it is within the protagonist's power to change. 

As a further tease, here are the subtitles for the chapter on Rule XI:

The Story is the Thing / The Eternal Characters of the Human Drama / Nature: Creation and Destruction (see the Moral Premise Statement in that) / Culture: Security and Tyranny (more MPS fodder) / The Individual: Hero and Adversary / Resentment / Sins of Commissions / Sins of Omission / The Existential Danger of Arrogance and Deceit vs The Place You Should Be.

It's a long chapter (pp. 303–353) and a wealth of story themes perfectly laid out with motivations for both the hero and villain involved. I wrote in the margins on page 315 one of the great adages of storytelling: "To achieve our greatest desire we must face our greatest fear." That is true of every protagonist and hero. 

In the midst of that same chapter Peterson provides a case study of a real-life Sleeping Beauty. He essentially writes the treatment for a modern day, true life, live action drama. Someone should do the screenplay (pp. 321-328)

In short, read this book if you're serious about understanding character and motivations.

 

How to Plot a Long Historical Novel

I have successfully used this story plotting technique with dozens of my screenwriting clients. Movies, however, are much shorter than (long) novels.  So, to put particulars to the work flow, this post explains the plotting effort used to construct my long historical novel Wizard Clip Haunting (WCH).

THE SIX STEPS IN MY INSTAGRAM POST ABOVE reveals why I haven't been blogging recently. I've written or edited a number of books in my career but I had never written a novel. In  2014, after several drafts of a WCH screenplay I started to think seriously about ditching the screenplay and writing the novel. The research travel I was doing in a bid to improve the screenplay provided fodder that turned out to be much more interesting as a novel. For the movie script I was limited by time and words; and the actual historical events became more interesting the more I traveled and got to know the real-life characters. (The genealogical sites like Ancestry.com and Geni.com were very helpful).

I JOKE that when I have money I make a movie, and when I don't I write or edit a book. While I wait for one screenplay to gain some traction in L.A. (there are things a-foot) and while I wait for the last book to be printed in mass in China, and while the H U G E sailboat refit project is under winter wraps until late March....I dug out the novel effort, last worked on in 2013–2014. Every time I pick it up again, there's were more significant plot points to include.

ONE OF THE IRONIC "OBSTACLES" to completing long projects,  and which I always recommend it to story clients, is to read lots of material similar to what you're trying to write. In that stead, and for his novel project, Pam and I just finished reading aloud to each other Ken Follett's Pillars of the Earth. It was a great read. I felt myself getting emotionally involved with the characters, and even got a mild case of vertigo one night. None of that happens when I watch a movie. Movies are over toooo quickly. But Pillars, due to its length (about 400K words) can last for weeks on end, two hours every night. I was sure  reading and hearing Follett's cadence for words would help when I start revising and reading out loud my own work. (Update 2023 - Follett had an effective on me. The novel is finally done and released, and it's 372,000 words. Agh! Had to self-publish it under my distribution banner since no publisher would touch it. LOL!)

The image above is actually the carded plot of the novel. I've actually written about 50K words of it, but stopped to revisit the plot and fully card it out. Here are the steps I've taken over the last few years, weeks, and days:

1. Researched the historical events. There area a few short books and dozens of articles and references in history books of the period and event itself.

2. Used the Story Diamond to identify the 13 main plot points.

3. Wrote 3 drafts of the movie screenplay.

4. Got some good and some bad notes.

5. Let the story sit for a couple years as I went onto other projects.

6. Took two road trips to research the actual events and my imagined events. One to New Orleans and Pittsburg, and a second trip to Maryland, West Virginia and eastern Pennsylvania. Both trips were immensely rewarding in terms of discovering ironic "true to history" material, which widened the story's scope—fodder I could not include in the screenplay without turning it into a mini-series (a pitch deck for a TV series now exists.)

7. Poured over the hundreds of photographs and documents and books and interview transcripts collected on those two trips. Before I committed to writing the novel, I experienced frustration because all the good stuff I was discovering would not fit into a screenplay. 

8. Made another revision of the screenplay and pitched it a few time. No takers.

9. Let it sit for a few years...went sailing, etc.

10. About 8 years ago, I wrote a few chapters as a test of my novel writing skills. I wasn't satisfied. Put it aside again. Then, last month I read Dwight Swain's "Techniques of $elling Writers" and "Hit Lit" by James Hall (recommended by my friend "The Other Chris Pratt")  Both books revealed that I was doing a lot of things right, and they gave me the courage to take the novel seriously. So,  I re-edited those early chapters and wrote a few more, read them aloud to Pam. We both liked them.

11. The original Story Diamond was not geared for a novel, however, but for a movie. I also realized that the Diamond was not formatted (being in the diamond shape) to track subplots easily. For that I needed a WIDE horizontal surface. I have a vertically mounted 4'x8' Story Diamond on casters that I roll out for clients who come to my office for beating out a story. In that process we use a drawer full of colorful 3"x3" Post-Its. 

Stored behind the Story-Diamond-on-casters are a couple pieces of 3/16" black Foamcor I use for small set lighting (or blocking the light).  I got them out and set them side-by-side behind my desk, and opened the drawer of Post-It's. Now, I was able to break the story according to characters and subplots and keep each on its own colorful row. The picture on the left is 3/4 of the whole thing toward the end of the exercise. (I found the Post-It's stuck better once I dusted off the Foamcor. : )



But I was not going to be able to let this piece of Foamcor sit as a reference in the walkway behind my desk for the year it would take to write. And as more ideas came, I'd need to write out some detail notes that would not fit on the Post-It's. So I opened up Apple's Keynote, which I use for creating the slides for my workshops, and opened a new file that was 4,000 pixels (W) and 1,500 pixels (H) and recreated the Post-It plot board into Keynote. It took me a day to create the file you see here. Click on it to enlage.

Although I work on a Medium speed Mac Pro with two large displays (which I use to edit 2K and 4K videos) Keynote is not designed for such a large file. It claims to be only 451K (not big, really), but with this many cards and objects on a single large "slide" it requires some patience. The app only slowed down, however, toward the end. (I use Keynote as well for creating Story Diamond files but set the Keynote file and my monitor vertical.) Keynote is much better (on the Mac) for this sort of thing than anything else, including Power Point. It's very easy to create, color and align objects, and change the size of both cards and text in them. [BTW: these are TEXT boxes filled with color, not rectangles with text overlaid in them. Thus, there is ONE object per card to move and manipulate, not two.]

12. Once I got all the cards in place (along with a number of story notes (the cards with a lot of text on them), I grouped them with green rectangles to denote preliminary chapter groupings, with each card within a green rectangle being a scene or a sequel (see Scene-Sequel post). The light pink near the top row are my SCENE GOALS, and the dark pink are the SCENE DISASTERS. The SEQUELS are not always individually carded but are implied by the contents. The blue is the antagonist, and the other colors are minor characters. The white boxes at the top represent most of the 13 traditional beats of a story, and the yellow boxes are dates to keep the chronology in order—since this is a historical story that takes place over a 37 year period with both of the story taking place over just 4 years.

13. I write long form projects in Scrivener, as I did the first draft of this project's screenplay (I finish up screenplays in Final Draft and novels in MS Word). I love Scrivener's flexibility for moving text blocks around. I used the old screenplay file for the novel. While I have about 50K already written of the first chapters, I will now populate the Scrivener folders/chapters with the chapters designated by the green rectangles in the Keynote Card file, and identify the doc-files/scenes within each Scrivener chapter by the individual cards in the Card Plot file.

14. Finally, as I write in Scrivener on my right display, the Keynote card file will occupy my left screen, along with other writing aids like my favorite thesaurus: http://www.onelook.com/reverse-dictionary.shtml. Thus, I can keep updating the card plot as I write, and it allows me a bird's-eye view of the story, showing me how the scene I'm currently writing connects to the whole.

Blessings,

stan

How Subplots Enrich Your Story

Here's fresh insight that will refine your subplots and reinforce your story's main physical and psychological spines.

But first let's set the stage.

In other places I explain how a story's subplot can be devised and used to reinforce the Moral Premise of the story. In short, those explanations have focused on these traits:

1. Each subplot follows a particular character in their pursuit of a specific goal.

2. Each subplot has fewer dramatic beats than the story's physical spine.

3. The psychological arc of every character in every subplot lies someone along the arc between the opposing values anchored by the Moral Premise Statement.

For example, let's say we have a story titled HOT WATER. Our story's main plot (or physical spine) centers on a protagonist—an elderly but persistent widow—who battles a secretive landlord who refuses to provide more than 65/F of heat to the hot water heating system during the winter months.  The widow's goal of the main plot is to sue the landlord to reveal how much profit he's making by keeping the temperature at 65/F, and thus force him raise the temperature.

But the landlord's position is that his financial records are private, and he further argues the tenant agreement specifically states that the maximum temperature that he needs to provide tenants is 65/F, not a degree more.

Let's say the Moral Premise Statement for our story is:

How to Emotionally Connect a Protagonist to Your Audience.

 This is an updated post from 2010.

Our full house at EXTRAORDINARY's premiere

A  recent workshop attendee who works with teen filmmakers asked this question:

What are the major events in a story that a protagonist must face and overcome to make sure the audience emotionally connects with the character?

That question tells me the filmmakers believe it's the external (or visible) story EVENTS or ACTIONS that connect the audience to the character. But that's only half the truth.

The action a character takes is valued by the audience only because of said character's motivation to take said action. If the protagonist kills another character, the event will be judged differently by the audience depending on whether the killing is pre-meditated murder or self-defense. That is, what's important to the audience is WHY the character took said action. And that is all about who the character is internally. It's the character's internal values that mostly dictate the emotional connection of the audience.

The way the audience discovers those values is the work of the plot and how the character responds to the beats of the plot. More about the plot beats below, but first let's look at how the audience will come to recognize the character's internal values. This is how it works in real life, too.

This diagram from a workshop I give will help. On the left side of the circle, items 2, 3 and 4 happen internally to a character. In a motion picture the audience does not see these unless the character shares his thinking with another character. In a novel, internal monologue often supplies these points.  But everything on the right side of the circle, items 1, 5, and 6 are in the visible, physical realm which the audience sees.

So, let's begin with No. 1. Here our character observes a situation in the external world.

2. Almost immediately the character compares what he observes to his own value system.

3. Let's assume that there is an internal value conflict between what he observes and his own value system. That leads to:

4. The character deciding upon a course of action to remediate the situation, and try to change the external situation to be more in line with his own internal values.

5. The character's thoughts morph into the physical realm and he takes some action.

6. As a direct consequence of the action some natural consequence occurs that is totally outside the character's control. Nature has the upper hand now, and some physical conflict may occur.  This physical conflict is a metaphor of the internal conflict from step 3.

And the cycle repeats itself, as the character...

1. Observes the new situation created by his intervening action, and

2. Evaluates....

If the Natural Consequence is evaluated as good in the character's mind, then his original internal value is reinforced. If the Natural Consequence is evaluated as bad, then the character may revisit and revise their original internal value....and transform.

TURNING  POINTS AND BEATS

Now this sort of logic appears most dramatically at a story's TURNING POINT or at Major Beats of a story. I discuss these beats in various places in this blog. But here's a starting point: 13 Major Beats.

So, this goes back to the original question.

What are the major events in a story that a protagonist must face and overcome to make sure the audience emotionally connects with the character?

The answer in an external sense are the dramatic story beats reflected in the 13 Major Beats link above. But the key to those beats emotionally connecting with audiences all depends on whether or not the internal value arc of the character's transformation coincides with or diverges from the audience's values.

And that is where the Moral Premise comes in. The decisions and actions that the character makes, if you're going to have a successful story, must all coincide with the moral and physical arc described by the moral premise statement, which we are assuming is true and in compliance with Natural Law.

No Irony No Story

http://www.storycrafttraining.blogspot.com

Hero vs. Protagonist

Thanks to Christopher Vogler for his contributions to this post.

What's the difference between a hero and protagonist; or for that matter the anti-hero, villain, antagonist, main character or POV character?  Like many concepts it's easy to lapse into equivocation because of the varied way these terms are used.

While I have no serious issue with using "hero" and "protagonist" interchangeably, it can make sense to use them differently. Below are a few suggestions for all these terms.

An underlying assumption (and a big one) is that the audience has a working moral compass and knows what behaviors are to be rooted for or deplored. This may not work in a morally ambiguous universe, but for general audiences that comprise a cross section of society, a movie's popularity will correlate to natural law, which is a fair basis for moral certainty.

MAIN (POV) CHARACTER...

...is the character with the most screen time. This may or may not be the hero, anti-hero, one of two kinds of protagonists, anti-hero, antagonist, or villain. It is almost always the Point of View (POV) character, or the perspective of the storyteller.

HERO... is the character that

• nearly epitomizes the virtues or strengths of the moral premise, but still 
• is subtly flawed. 
• will change (arc), but subtly and always in the same direction. The hero's values will not change direction or polarity, but at the Moment of Grace will get stronger and deeper. 
• actively pursues a physical and visible goal that audience can root for.
• will be a good guy with desirable traits.
• may often give up his life to achieve the goal.

Example: Captain Miller in SAVING PRIVATE RYAN. See detailed post at link.

ANTI-HERO... is that character that:

• epitomizes the vices or weaknesses of the moral premise, and thus 
• is significantly flawed.
• will change (arc), but subtly and always in the same direction. That is, the anti-hero's values will not change direction or polarity, but at the Moment of Grace will get stronger and deeper. This is the same as the HERO.
• actively pursues a physical and visible goal that audience can root for, just like the HERO.
• will be a good guy with undesirable traits

Example: Travis Bickle in TAXI DRIVER

VILLAIN... is that character that:

• epitomizes the vices or weaknesses of the moral premise, and thus
• is significantly flawed
• will change (arc), but subtly and always more dark. 
• actively attempts to prevent the hero or protagonist from reaching the goal.
• will always be the bad guy.

Example: Hans Gruber in DIE HARD

PROTAGONIST (Redemptive)... is that character that:

• at first, embraces vices or weaknesses of the moral premise, and is therefore,
• clearly flawed, but
• will change (arc) clearly toward the virtue or strengths of the moral premise.
• actively pursues a physical and visible goal that audience roots for.
• is usually a good guy in the end.
• and lives to see another day, even better.

Example: Bob Parr in THE INCREDIBLES

PROTAGONIST (Tragic)... is that character that:

• at first, embraces vices or weaknesses of the moral premise, and is therefore 
• clearly flawed, but
• will change (arc) clearly toward darker vices or greater weaknesses of the moral premise.
• actively pursues a physical and visible goal that audience roots against
• is usually a bad guy in the end. 

Examples: Charles Foster Kane in CITIZEN KANE, and
Tony Soprano in THE SOPRANOS

Test Question: Do tragic protagonists always sit at table with a wine glass half-full, chin down, eyes up, and glare off screen camera right...."as if the answer to their dilemma were over there" (CV).

ANTAGONIST... is that character that:

• embraces either vices/weaknesses or (not both) virtues/strengths of the moral premise, and is therefore 
• clearly flawed, or clearly virtuous,
• may or may not (arc) clearly toward the opposing value, but if arc occurs will be cogent with the moral premise
• actively opposes the physical and visible goal of the hero, anti-hero, or protagonist becoming the catalyst for change (arc) in the hero, anti-hero or protagonist.   
• may be the good guy or the bad guy

Example: The Angels in "Touched By An Angel"

Characterization and The Moral Premise

As with everything in a story or script, the arc described in the moral premise needs to be present especially in each character's characterization. Not every element of characterization needs to arc, but arc'ing a few would strengthen the story. My online Storycraft Training Series (click on the link to access the training) teaches you how to do this in many ways. As an extension to that valuable training, here is a description of characterization and how it adds to the elegancy of the moral premise method of storytelling.

You can categorize characterization in the following ways:

Appearance. This refers to wardrobe, mannerisms, and hygiene. Do your characters look like, act, and dress like who they really are? Is this correlation obvious, obscured, and ironic? Do they dress down because of their humility or are they hiding something? Do they dress up out of arrogance or to compensate for a sense of inferiority? Do they refuse to care for their health because they hate who they are? How does their appearance change or not during the course of the story? A good writer will plan this arc, and it's clarity (or it's obscurity), to subliminally reinforce the moral premise of the story.

Action: This refers to their decisions to choose one course of action vs. another normally associated with the turning points of a plot (or subplot). What does the character do? What don't they do? What do they consider doing...or not doing? Is there an indication that they would like to do something but they turn from it, or that they don't want to do something but they do it anyway? While this is easy to describe in a novel with internal monologue, it's a bit more of an art in a screenplay where you only have physical actions to describe in the action paragraph or in the nonverbal of dialogue.  (Yes, you can explain it in dialogue, but don't.) A good writer will plan this arc (as they plot the action), to explicitly reinforce the moral premise of the story.

Appearances in a movie are an important
part of characterization. Above, Chris Hemsworth
prepares for his role in HEART OF THE SEA.

Dialogue: How does the character speak in use of grammar, confidence, dialect? How do these elements contrast and compare to other characters? Can we distinguish who is talking if there are no character tags above each dialogue line? While you may think these characteristics may stay constant throughout a story, the best stories find a way to arc this element. In real life, once, during a flight from Michigan to California, I sat next to man who felt obliged to communicate a particular persona to me through a distinct pattern of speech. As we talked during the four hour trip his speech slowly changed to that of normal midwesterner. As we said our goodbyes in the LAX terminal, he had morphed into an entirely different character than the one I sat next to leaving DTW. I thought, if this can happen that quickly in real life, then such a change in a 120 minute motion picture is not unrealistic. And, if those speech patterns are logically connected to the moral premise' weakness and strength, you have a reinforced arc that will connect emotionally with audiences. A good writer will imbue this into their characterizations. 

Arc: This refers primarily to the main turning points of the main plot and multiple subplots. How does the character moral decision making change throughout the story and how does that change relate to whether they are a good guy or a bad guy? The assumption is that a good guy will always get better and a bad guy will get his comeuppance. This reflects audience expectations of characterization in a broad overall sense. But irony plays an important role in keeping an audience's attention. Can you make a character more interesting my plotting their action in a way that "stings" the audience? Does your protagonist fake her own death, but not let the audience in on the trick? Do they appear to tell the truth, but are in fact lying? Do they take actions that seem malevolent, but turn out to be merciful? Keep your audience guessing by thus enriching your character's characterization. But never, EVER, be irrational about the character's arc. Natural Law is your friend, because the turning points of a story, while perhaps manipulated by the character's values, will always arc back to nature in the end. To do otherwise will cheat and irritate your audience. 

Internal motivation/values: This refers to what drives all the action of every story. It's what the character's believe above all else will bring them happiness. While this element is mostly hidden in a screenplay, it's important that the writer have this firmly in their mind so the subtleties of writing and the choice of words and the length of sentences and dialogue and everything else subtly reflect who the character is and what he/she hope to be. Characterization originates from the character's most intimately held values....those articulated in the moral premise statement. Those values control everything they are, think and do. For characterization to ring true to your audience/reader, you must never violate the natural law connection between a value, and when acted upon the physical consequence. The consequence may be delayed, thus encouraging a vice/weakness the character has, but ultimately their internal motivation will reward them—good or bad. It is in this manner that the physical consequences (what we "see" in the story) become metaphors for the character's true self. Characterization is how we see that trueness, oftentimes before the consequence hits. A good writer will have this figured out ahead of time, or (if you're a pantser) do it by instinct. 

Introduction: In a screenplay, the introduction of a significant character is that one sentence allowed the screenwriter to tell us who the character really is...or at least at that moment who the screenwriter wants the reader to think the character is. The introduction is explicit, omniscient characterization. The writer is allowed to describe the internal motivations and values of the character hopefully by connecting it to some physical and visible element. Example: "A debonair young man whose mind was always in the gutter."  "A mindless beauty who was totally innocent of her affect on the opposite sex." "A woman whose intentions were always good but who's affect was always unwelcome." "Jacob was the syndicate boss who ordered the death of hundreds but secretly he wanted to be a weekend preacher and save souls  especially his own." Novelists have much more leeway to use a whole scene, of every chapter, to flesh out such characterization. The good writer will carefully manipulate this description to set up the character's values, arc, and appearance to entrap the reader's emotions as the story unfolds. 

Hopefully evident in those last examples (and should be evident in all the other characterization elements) is the concept of irony. "It was the best of days it was the worst of days, they were the best of people but they were entirely flawed." I think more than anything else the natural, organic incorporation of such irony in characterization is what makes people and characters interesting to an audience.

HOW IS THE MORAL PREMISE EVIDENT IN EVERY SCENE?

Recently I received a gracious letter from Sina H. Pour with a question attached. (Sina gave me permission to use his full name.) He's a film worker based in Stockholm, Sweden and an aspiring screenwriter.  Since I had recently completed a screenplay that violated one of my own rules, which was also at the root of Sina's question, I thought I should write a blog to myself in answer. 

Here 's the question with one of the gratifying things he said about The Moral Premise. Thanks, Sina for your kinds words; they keep me going. 

SINA'S QUESTION

The moral premise should be evident in every scene, but what does this mean in practice? How is the moral premise made evident in EVERY scene? Is it only the vice for the first half of the film and the virtue for the second or the entire premise for every scene throughout the movie?

I truly hope you are able to answer this cry for help, but most of all I hope you see this as an honest testament of the power of your book and how it has affected writers across the globe. Your work is of great importance to us and I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

MY RESPONSE

Dear Sina:

The variations on what I explain below are infinite, and may not be as obvious to the audience as I will try to make the example below. Movies work because they force the audience to work. How does the audience work? They work to fill in the narrative gaps purposely left by the screenwriter, director, and editor to create intrigue, suspense, identification, that is the dramatic force that keeps the story ever moving forward. That story "work ethic" is involved in what I'm about to explain, but at a subtle level. A layer purposely made subtle of the filmmakers.

CONFLICT OF VALUES

As you know EVERY act, EVERY sequence, EVERY scene, and EVERY exchange of dialogue, (or cut in an action sequence) is the result of CONFLICT. To keep it simple, if two people are in a scene, they are each trying to get the other to do something. Those "somethings" are opposite in some way. The conflict is the consequence of the two characters embodying or subscribing to opposite moral values, e.g. greed vs. generosity. Each is trying to get the other to change. To some degree, along the journey, this happens in different ways, in different strengths, and with different sub-plots in every scene.

Thus every scene will embody in some way the greed vs. generosity concept of values, which forms the motivational basis for the moral premise statement...

greed leads to _____ but,

generosity leads to _________.

Greed and Generosity are like two themes... one dealing with the motivation to give and the other dealing with the motivation to take. e.g.

Greed leads to isolation and sadness, but

Generosity leads to friendships and joy.

What gives a story deep interest, while still being about the same thing, is that greed and generosity can apply to many aspects of a person's life.

WELL ROUNDED CHARACTERS

One character may be greedy with money, but the other may be greedy with time. Each of these aspects of their lives can serve to generate subplots. In this case, you have two subplots but one Conflict of Values, or one moral premise.

A character can also be greedy with possessions, or status, or appearance (e.g. "One character is driven to always look better than another.") At the same time these characters' counterparts may be more generous with money, time, possessions, status or appearance (e.g. "I don't mind looking like the slob if it makes you look better.")

Of course when a character takes a journey they take both a physical journey and a psychological journey. Making it simple: a protagonist at the beginning of a movie may be generous with her time, but greedy with possessions. We will see that contradiction or conflict in her life as she interacts with another character who has the opposite motivations, e.g. he is generous with his money, but greedy with his time. Conflict. As the story progresses the characters change for reasons that are logical based on the experiences put upon them by the writer-filmmaker. Such experiences, or scenes and sequences are logically connected by cause and effect as we find in Natural Law. And so, in every scene there is both a subtle and an explicit representation of the two values. And to say it again, there may be only those two UNIVERSAL values, but if there are five characters each pursuing goals in different aspects of their lives, we  may have a dozen different expressions of greed and generosity that show up in the various scenes of the film.

CHARACTER MOTIVATIONS

It's important that the character's outward actions are motivated by their internal values. In a movie most of what you show is a character's actions, (with some dialogue to tell the audience what's hard to show.) But just as real people take no action without being motivated by a value (i.e. "value" = "moral motivation"), so your characters must not act without being motivated by a value.

METAPHORS

Now, in really good movies the physical story will be a metaphor for the psychological journey. That is how the audience SEES what's going on INSIDE the characters. Thus, the hero may want to be elected to an important office because she is greedy for power. Wrong reason. And as a result of that vice in her life (a greedy lust for power) she can't make progress because the town's people see what she is like and they won't vote for her or help her. But when visiting the home of a friend our hero meets a little crippled girl who can't walk very easily or get around the house. She likes to sit by the window, and look down on the street but she can't always get up to the wide windowsill. But she is naturally generous with her time and she makes a pretty flower with paper for her big brother. She does it out of the generosity of her heart. And he, naturally, wants to show his appreciation to her for her love, and so he says, "Hey, sis, would you like to sit up on the sill and watch the people and cars." She smiles real big... and her brother lifts her up and puts her on the sill. Now, our hero, who is visiting the family for something he didn't really want to be there for (she's greedy with her time)... sees this beautiful act of generosity (actually two acts of generosity), and it connects. Our hero realizes that it is not her selfish greedy desire for power that accomplishes things, but the desire of the people when she chooses, for generous (not manipulative) reasons, to serve the people. And it's when she loses her greed for power, and embraces her generosity of time for others, that the people elect her to the seat of power (without her ever trying)... not to rule over them, but to serve them. So, the metaphor of the sister and brother reveals the journey our hero must take from her vice of greed) to the virtue of generosity.

There are many, many ways to make the moral premise practical.

SUBPLOTS & GOALS

The key to telling a well-rounded story about one thing is to examine the lives of each of your characters. Give them goals in various aspects of their lives and then give each of those goals an arc that is describe by the moral premise. Realize that characters can move toward the good, toward the bad, or not move at all, although your protagonist needs to change.

The more prominent the character, the more aspects of their lives your story will investigate. Your hero's life may be examined in this way with say, five different subplots, one of which will be the movie's spine. For example: personal life, professional life, family life, public life, and hobby life. While a very minor character's arc may only involve one aspect and thus one sub-plot: his financial life. Each of those aspects of the character's life needs to have a goal and a moral premise arc -- which constitutes a sub-plot.

FROM THE BEGINNING TO THE END

So, in each scene the conflict of values is evident in one or more aspect of a character's life, as they strive toward a goal and meet the challenge that the conflict of values in their lives present. And in good movies, not all characters change dramatically. Humans change slowly. So must your story characters. At the beginning of BRUCE ALMIGHTY, Bruce Nolan has a fear of commitment to Grace (they are not married), and at the end of the movie, although his actions toward Grace have improved (and he's no longer expecting a miracle), that fear of commitment is still evident: although he's introduced her as the future Mrs. Nolan, THEY ARE STILL NOT MARRIED. So from the beginning to the end the two poles of the conflict of values will be evident, but in different amounts as the journey progresses.  (See Table 12 in The Moral Premise).

MY PROBLEM

What was my own rule that I had violated? I had five minor characters that did not have arcs or subplots of their own. They were just there like absent-minded decoration, popping in or out of the story as was convenient.  What was worse, I had been through this particular project over the past 3 years about a dozen times making two major revisions and many other tweaks and polishes.  Finally, finally, something clicked. I think it was a indirect comment from a reader. Suddenly making the next pass jumped to the top of my priority list. Finished it yesterday. Now each of the minor characters have clear beats that correspond to the moral premise and reinforce what the movie is really about. And yes, it stretched the script 4 pages. But the extra length is well worth it. When we do this the story gets better, always. See my post about Tamera Alexander's recent book and the note from her editor. Same thing.

Great Stories - True Premises

I lead a bifurcated life when it comes to the types of projects I work on. I find my greatest satisfaction in structuring and writing stories for myself and for my clients. My wife, Pam, and I consume a great many movies and novels; and we're mesmerized by the integrity the best stories have with respect to a true and consistently applied moral premise that informs the metaphors used to do the story telling.

But the other side of my creative life has been involved in helping others produce very didactic series for Catholic television. Yes, we're talking about "talking heads" here. There are times when I don't want anyone to know that I write, produce, direct, edit and distribute such stuff. Not because I don't believe in the messages that the series contain, because I do believe in them. I'm a devout Roman Catholic who loves the Church's teachings. But I am convinced that didactic presentations DO NOT engage audiences very well, nor do they pass on values from generation to generation as well as stories do. But the didactic stuff does explain WHY and WHAT is going on in a psychological and spiritual sense in our lives, and in the lives of characters in stories with true moral premises.

One such connection occurred to me this morning as I was writing collateral materials for a Bible Study series on the Epistle of James that I'm preparing for broadcast. The particular Bible passage that applies to storytelling so well is this:

Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.  (NAB, James 1:2-4)

This passage hits a particular nail on the head with what we try to do --- or rather, what we MUST DO as storytellers. Our protagonist wants to reach the goal, but to do so our hero must traverse through myriad of trials and sufferings. Why do we drag our heroes through all of that? One answer is because in real life we are dragged through it all. The tests we put our hero through (as well as the trials we go through as humans) will teach our hero (and us) about life. Experience is the best teacher, after all. And simulations (movies) are a close second. Hopefully, in a redemptive story, our protagonist will persevere through the bad stuff and in the process learn something important, so that the end result her or she will be a better person -- and goal of the story achieved.

For the protagonist the "faith" is their belief in the truth of the moral premise. Yet, for them to really, truly believe the truth of the moral premise, we have to take them through hellfire and brimstone, (the testing of their faith as gold is refined with fire), before they get enough sense knocked into them to learn how to navigate life, latch onto what's really important,  develop the nerve to remove their mask of "unbelief," and risk all to persevere through Act 3 to the goal. (Do you see the story structure in that?)

And if our heroes persevere through all that, they can be joyous. Thus, great stories are about characters that learn something that is greater than themselves and persevere against great odds to bring that truth home to themselves and those around them....including us in the theater.

Great Movies or Stories are about...

Great stories are about 

 CHARACTERS

who stand for something

GREATER THAN THEMSELVES, 

against 

 GREAT ODDS, 

even if they don't know what they're doing, 

but even more so if they do.

I just reread an old Reader's Digest article by John Culhane, Where Great Movies Come From. I don't think it told me, but it did suggest that the great movies (and stories) are about things bigger than the characters -- good value, and to achieve those noble intends sacrifices are welcome.

To quote Culhane:

Critically acclaimed, financially successful and widely honored films are about universal values, that reflect the basic good in people: hard work, self respect, love of family, friends, community and God.

'Such films show us,' says director Mark Rydell, 'how the individual can make a difference—in his own life and the lives of others. ' 

'One of their messages,' says John Avildsen (director of ROCKY), 'is that  ordinary individuals are capable of extraordinary acts.'

The article discusses four films that do this:

• ROCKY
• CHARIOTS OF FIRE
• GANDHI, AND
• DRIVING MISS DAISY

...and how studios rejected the scripts and even the films for distribution after they were made, because the stories did not fit the supposed mold for commercial success. Yet all were very successful.

I am hoping for more visionary investors who see the financial sense of relatively small independent films that can change hearts and be a box office success.

To do that, as writers, producers, and directors, we have to develop stories about characters that stand for something bigger than themselves, against all odds.

Character Management

I came across an old overhead projector cell (remember those?) from a workshop I gave to corporate managers on management styles. I was about to toss it, when I realized that these ten Management Styles could easily define Character Styles, or how a character interacts with the rest of the world. This could be useful for envisioning what a character is like and how to write him or her:


Management by Control (MBC, aka Theory X)

Autocratic, demanding, threatening. Or manipulative, detailed, or use of sanctions.

Management by Walking Around (MBWA)

Letting people see you watching them. Being curious about what they're doing and asking questions that helps them think about the consequences of their actions.

Management by Objective (MBO, aka Theory Y)

Getting others to accept mutually agreeable goals and deadlines.

Management by Listening (MBL)

Getting others to talk to you about their problems and talk them out. Usually the person, if they're interested, will solve their own problems, by you just listening.

Management by Motivation (MBM, aka Carrot Theory)

If you have something others want, barter. Could be for a benevolent or sinister end.

Management by Encouragement (MBE)

 Cheerleader for your goals, or so other will like and follow you.

Management by Exception (MBX)

Ignore anything unless it is really irritating, then use another management style to fix it.

Management by Hearsay (MBH)

Do your research by asking for the opinion of prejudice individuals around you.

Management by Assumption (MBA)

Don't ask. Don't research. Just jump to the conclusions. It's faster.

Management by Theatrics (MBT)

Jump up and down and yell all the time. The sky is falling. 

EXERCISE

Take a current script or story project and assign one of the Management Styles to each of your main characters. Are there going to be sparks, or is it a slumber party?

When an Actor Asks: "WHAT DO I WANT?"

I'm working on an analysis of Billie Letts' book WHERE THE HEART IS for my Early Bird Workshop at the annual American Christian Fiction Writers Conference September 22 in St. Louis. Because I use movie clips in my presentations, I will illustrate my analysis of Letts' book with clips from Matt Williams' movie, the screenplay of which was written by the two guys in the picture, Lowell Ganz (left) and Babaloo Mandell (right).  Ganz and Mandell are two of the most sought after writers in Hollywood, with a long list of credits and awards to their names.

In an Ari Esiner article with the writing duo:

Ganz says his earliest writing lesson came from actor Jack Klugman on The Odd Couple TV show. When presented with Ganz's script, Klugman walked up to the writer and promptly shouted in his face, "What do I want?" And there endeth the lesson on the foremost rule of writing for the young television scribe: always have your characters want something. 

In the last month I've reviewed the work of numerous writers (both professional, and students) and this Ganz observation must be one of the most often violated principles of story writing. Characters always need an outward motivation, a physical goal — they must always want something. They don't necessarily NEED what they want, and what they want might be impossible to achieve because of an inner flaw (a psychological vice).... but they must want it. 

AND, the audience or reader must know they want it.

While screening KNIGHT AND DAY, starring Tom Cruise (Roy Miller) and Cameron Diaz (June Havens), I was astonished at how quickly writer Patrick O'Neill and director James Mangold tell the audience what the main characters want... on a number of levels. The movie is one long chase scene, so to keep the plot and the chase interesting, giving depth to the characters, both Roy and June have multiple goals related to different aspects of their lives.

• Roy's professional goal is to keep the Zephyr battery and its eccentric inventory away from the bad guys.
• Roy's personal goal is to take a vacation by driving to Cape Horn.
• Roy's romantic goal is to keep June from harm.
• Roy's family goal is to be reunited with his parents who think he is dead.
• June's professional goal is to restore her dad's GTO (she owns a garage back in Boston).
• June's personal goal is to give the GTO to her sister to keep it in the family.
• June's romantic goal is to land Roy.
• June's family goal is to get to her sister's wedding.

Thus, depending on the scene, the audience always has several things to root for. 

THE REASON WE ROOT FOR CHARACTERS

Now, why do we root for characters? Why do we want them to get what they want?

Because we like them. 

In narrative theoretical terms, we identify with them. Michael Hauge says there are five ways you, as the writer, can foster likeability in a character:

1. Make the character sympathetic, the victim of undeserved misfortune.
2. Put the character in jeopardy. We ID with people we worry about.  Many stories start with an orphan.
3. Make character likable, kind, goodhearted. They need to be relatable, not likable.
4. Make characters funny. We like to be with people who make us feel good about ourselves or have the courage to say things we don't.
5. Make characters powerful, or very good at what they do.

So, do we like Roy Miller and June Havens? Sure. June is undeserved in her misfortune of being tangled up with Roy, and is therefore in great and repeated jeopardy. She's also an orphaned traveler being kicked off her flight. She is goodhearted and kind. She's funny and encouraging. And she's very good at what she does, which we discover as she explains to the TSA agent the tailpipes and carburator in her carry on baggage. It also doesn't hurt that June comes packaged in Cameron Diaz's body,  quirky smile, and damsel in distress persona.

Likewise, Roy seems to have been thrown undeserved misfortune when he is overpowered by both the Federal government and the bad guy cartel. We worry about him, because he's a spy without backup, and later a boy without his mom and dad -- a orphan. He's goodhearted in that he repeatedly protects, selflessly hapless June. His nonchalant way of dispatching bad guys is sarcastic and funny. And he's very good at what he does. Oh, yes, he has a million dollar smile and he's a hunk with sex appeal.

All together these are personas we'd like to hang around with. We wish we had them for friends. So, we root for them and hope they get everything they want. And by the end of the movie it seems they do. Cape Horn sequel anyone? Mom and dad and flying down.

Good Stories Require Aggression

I've been doing a little sailing with the family, trying to get away from the computer, etc. But stories are always close at hand. In our pursuit of "sailing" from Detroit, MI to Lexington, MI we encountered a number of nemeses: sweltering hot weather (>100), big freighters that take up the channel, a midnight encounter with a foreign freighter on the St. Clair River that sent out a rouge wake that put my wife in the hospital for a few hours (they kept asking her: "Madam, are you in a safe environment?"), a late night dock security guard on a Segway, and "no wind"... a terrible thing for a "sail" boat. But we (the protagonists) were aggressive and overcame the obstacles, and achieved our goal: a quiet anchorage in Lexington, MI.

Stories require aggressive, resourceful heroes. No movie goer is interested in a hero who is only passively interested in the goal, or an antagonist who simply behaves contrary. Both characters need to pursue their goal with passion, diligence, and aggression. My workshop now begins with a slide saying you need two key ingredients for a successful story: The WRITER'S PASSION and the PROTAGONIST'S PASSION — both for achieving their goals. The actual slide form the workshop says it this way:

1. A good story originates from a writer's inexplicable INSPIRATION. Nothing can replace it.

2. A good story is about an imperfect hero's unrelenting DESIRE for achieving a goal against insurmountable odds. Nothing can supplant that.

3. For a good story to be well told the writer's INSPIRATION, and the hero's DESIRE must have one thing in common — STRUCTURE. Everything needs it.

Oh, yeah, here's a picture of an obstacle, and the boat getting to the goal: