'We
must look at the intentionality of the characters and where they are
heading, for they are the main influence upon the shape of stories.
James
Hillman, Healing Fictions
For
many of us (myself included), life consists of a series of reactions
to the past, reactions which exist in the present and hence form our
future. Unless we consciously seek to unravel the tangle of
influences within us, we remain mechanical creatures, programmed by
past events, by the people in our lives, and by the ideologies that
we embrace, often unconsciously. The first step to unraveling this
tangle is to see that there is a tangle in the first place. After
that we can begin exploring what motivates our actions, what lies
beneath the stories we tell ourselves about who we are. Perhaps this
is why strong, plausible characterisation is so fundamental to story.
To
write stories well we need to understand character; not just what
characters looks like, or how they act, but what motivates them. Why
do they do what we do? What drives them? Why are they driven? What
has formed them? These are basic questions that often reveal
unexpected and richly rewarding answers. According to Jung, it is
character that drives plot, not plot that drives character. And in
The Way of Story, Catherine Anne Jones writes that 'it is the
inner psychological state of the main character which fuels and
drives the external plot'. Plot then, is secondary to character.
Certainly in my own writing process this is the case; this is how I
have always written, allowing the story to form around the
characters. It is where I find the links with my own life and
development, and where I attempt to write a 'living' story. I have
found it vital to surrender to the process of writing and trust that
a story will emerge; rich with character and complexity. To plot a
story before it is written and then force the characters to act like
puppets within the plot, is more often than not a recipe for
unmotivated action and 'dead' implausible stories. As a writer it is
playing it safe, refusing to respond to the call of adventure that
signals the journey of story.
The
source of a character's motivation often lies hidden within the early
patterns of childhood, in the wounds and blessings that have formed a
person. In The Writing Book, Kate Grenville warns against an
over emphasis on motivation, saying that it can create characters
that are 'too neatly motivated and too one-dimensional'. I don't
agree. As in life, a three-dimensional, plausible character should be
motivated, not by a single factor but by a number of factors, not all
of them conscious. He or she should not only act, but also react to
people, places and events, and these actions and reactions should
have a convincing weight that carries and directs the story. When
creating a three-dimensional character, I look for the factors and
sometimes the patterns that motivate that character, and at the
psychological reasons for that motivation (why they are motivated). I
ask myself questions. What does my character want? What is stopping
him or her from getting it? The answers to these questions can be
found both externally (a character might want a new job) and
internally (a character might want to be understood, or want to make
a difference). Fusing the answers to these questions with the factors
that motivate a character, helps to create conflict, a fundamental
element in story.
Conflict
is found on three levels. Firstly, from something unavoidable in the
external world; an earthquake, for example, or the loss of a job.
Secondly, from tension between characters, a disagreement with an
employer or a power struggle between father and son. And lastly, from
internal tensions within a major character, such as the fear of
change, a deep sense of self loathing, or an unexpressed love.
Internal tension is a strong generator of conflict and without it all
the external tension in the world will feel hollow. As Robert McKee
writes in Story, 'the closest circle of antagonism in the
world of a character is his own being: feelings and emotions, mind
and body, all or any of which may or may not react from one moment to
the next the way he expects. As often as not, we are our own worst
enemies.' Conflict generates story and within story lies the keys to
the change and development needed to create a satisfying character
arc.
As
mentioned in a previous post, the outer passage of a story is the
plot, while the inner passage of a story is the character arc. The
outer passage the costume, the inner passage the essence. It is in
the inner journey that the character uncovers the fragments that
motivate him or her. This is the case in Flight, as Fern must
search the past in order to find the motivating factors that have
forced her to act in certain ways. It is within the flashbacks to her
childhood and the visions of past lives, that the clues and
motivations to Fern's character are provided. While not all stories
involve a character arc, most do (more on this in a later post).
Readers generally want to see the protagonist learning something
about themselves. It is not a new self that is sought but a
healthier, more knowledgeable self. Perhaps a self who can come to
some acceptance of his or her circumstances, or a self who is able to
reintegrate into society because of what he or she has learned. A
short story might simply show a moment of epiphany or self
realisation and leave the reader to imagine its potential, but in a
novel there is generally a longer time line, so when a character
learns something about themselves there is the opportunity to reveal
to the reader the change that this knowledge brings. However, this
change should come about gradually, otherwise the characterisation
will necessarily be weak and the story formulaic.
Jung
defines individuation as a coming to self hood or self realisation.
In The Undiscovered Self, he writes passionately and urgently
of the need for individuals to resist the collective forces of
society, saying that to do this we must face our fear of the duality
of the human psyche, in other words we must accept our shadow selves.
It is in the inner structure of the story, the character arc, that we
can see the process of individuation at work. Individuation, or the
Hero's Journey, as Campbell would call it (more on this in a later
post), is simply another word for a process that is as old as
humanity - a journey of the soul or, as some would prefer to call it,
a psychological journey. As writers and readers, perhaps we are
seeking through story an experience of connection, a sense of
commonality that can be discovered beneath the surface differences
that appear to divide us from each other. Perhaps in some ways we use
story to explore our own lives and the themes that move us. And
ultimately, perhaps following the arc of a character in a story
enables us to identify and understand the motivating factors in our
own reactions and from this knowledge ultimately begin to act in more
conscious manner.
Copyright (c) 2012 by Rosie Dub. All rights reserved. You may translate, link to or quote this article, in its entirety, as long as you include the author name and a working link back to this website:http://writeonthefringes.blogspot.co.uk/
