Advanced Brilliant Writing: Make Your Plots Wider and Your Characters Deeper (Go! Write Something Brilliant) (3 page)

The Need to Change is embodied in an early event or situation that should be strong and terrible enough to convince your character to grab the opportunity to change the next time it might rear its head. And, it must be a sufficient enough threat that it will force him to confront his demons and fears, or beliefs—all those obstacles that will stand in the way to change.

Because if he doesn’t have to change, well then you’re just going to have to close the door and wait until he’s disgusted by his own horrible smell. And really, who knows how long that might take?

Book Therapy Questions:

• What situation, threat, loss, reward or fear would be strong enough to make your character want to change?
  
• How can you raise that need so that it looms over your character and they can’t escape it?
  

Now, you are at the end of the first act of your story. You’ve shown your character’s Glimpse of Hope, ideally during his Home World, and chapter one. Then, you’ve given them an Invitation to Change—something they’ve turned down, and which has led to their regret. Finally, you’ve created a situation that shows their Need to Change because to stay in their own emotional mess, they’re doomed.

If you were to put this into the Book Therapy Plotting Roadmap, you would plot the emotional journey alongside the Plot:

• Home World/Glimpse of Hope
  
• Inciting Incident/Invitation to Change
  
• The Big Debate . . . Regret of the Missed Opportunity
  
• Need to Change . . . which results in The Noble Quest
  

Okay, now take a breath and if you want, just go ahead put your ideas on paper. . .

Or, simply continue on to Act 2.

Act 2: First down and 10!

So now your character sees his Need for Change, and is fueled by the regret of missing it the first time, as well as a glimpse of what it might look like. Let’s allow him to give it a shot.

I love football. Hometown high school, college ball, and pro, in that order. I am a fan of
Friday Night Lights
, and every football movie made (well, almost . . . I’m not into the spoofy football movies—it’s much too serious a sport for that!) and most of all, football players!

I married a football player. I like them because when they get hit, they get back up. (Probably why I like bullriders too.) Does getting tackled hurt? Yes. But they shake it off, line up and try again. They get four downs to get it right.

Our local football team took a hard hit on a recent Friday night, losing for the first time in 16 games, in the last 45 seconds. But I had to give props to both teams . . . they didn’t stop fighting until the last second.

The Second Act, and subsequent steps of character change, are much like the ten yard run/four downs of a football game.

• Attempt (and Failure)
  
• Cost Consideration
  
• Rewards
  
• Desire
  
• Attempt and Mini-Victory
  
• Training for Battle
   
  

Let’s take a closer look at the football metaphor: The offense has the ball, they need to make their ten yards, and they line up, and run the first play. Maybe the drop back for a pass, and our hero, the Quarterback (QB), is sacked. Worse, he’s injured.

Now they huddle up. Obviously, the defenders have heard about their amazing passing game, so they’ll have to try a different tact. But their superstar fullback is also out of the game with a mean cold, thanks to this Minnesota weather, so the tailback might not get the blocking he needs for the sweet play. If the QB steps in to block, he might get further injured by the rather large senior playing on defense. However, they are on the twenty yard line, and six points down, with a minute left on the board. And, they are second in the state, if they can win this game.

SS
So, they run the sweep and, sure enough, they get the first down. But the QB is taken out, which opens the door for the Third Act when our hero, the QB, has to decide if he’s really the hero everyone is counting on.

Maybe that is too much football, so let’s break it down.

The next stage in the journey is the attempt by the hero to go after the prize, to rescue the fair maiden, or stand up to the bully, or face his fears. His attempts not only fail, but sometimes make everything worse!

Remember when Frodo is enticed to surrender the ring to
Galadriel
, the Noldorin princess? For the first time, he realizes that he is not quite strong enough to bear this burden, if even she can’t. It frightens him, and he’s overwhelmed with the task.

For example, going back to the football metaphor—the defense just can’t stop the offense, despite the fact they keep getting beat up, and are blitzing to the best of their abilities. The problem is the offense knows their holes. The solution—the epiphany, usually figured out during half-time!—is to run a different defense and call some audibles (i.e.,change the play on the line.)

In other words, all the plays your character is making don’t work – their attempts to solve the problem only creates new ones.

So now that your character sees his need to change, give them the opportunity to try. Fight the dragon, reach out to a husband, attack the enemy . . . and fail. And, if you can, make it worse.

In
The Patriot
, Benjamin Martin’s band of militia start winning against the British . . . and earn their wrath, thus causing the British to begin killing the families of the militia.

In
Eagle Eye
, when Jerry Shaw decides that he isn’t going to obey the voice on the other end of the telephone, he is exposed in a subway of commuters as a terrorist.

So have them attempt to change—and fail miserably. Then you’ll be in a place to draw him back to the huddle to consider the costs.

Book Therapist Question

• What attempts could your character do to change? How can you make them fail?
  
• Now make that failure worse by creating a new problem.
  

What’s it going to cost me?

Ever been on a diet over Christmas season? I have a Russian friend who is a pilot, and his annual exam arrives right after New Year’s Eve. He gets his blood drawn and his cholesterol checked . . . it’s a bummer, because in order to keep his pilot’s license, he has to pass a certain level.

Which means he has to diet over Christmas.

He has to stay away from rich foods and, of course wine, which is big in Russia during New Year’s Eve. He stands at the pinnacle of the season, smells the holiday feast, and I know he laments his life. (Or at least the timing of his exam.)

But in order to be a pilot, he has to surrender something.

So does your character. Right after he or she fails their first attempt, they’ll have to regroup, and take a good look at their weaknesses and vacancies, and realize the truth: If they want victory, they can’t stay the way they are.

Another way to put it: Anything worth fighting for is going to cost something.

Some “considering the cost” moments from my favorite movies:

When Frodo takes off across the lake in the boat at the end of Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring, Samwise nearly dies going after him. Frodo realizes that his quest will cost lives, and that he has to be brave enough to let that happen.

In The Princess Bride, remember the moment right after Wesley and Buttercup get through the fire swamp, and evil king Humperdink finds them? Buttercup negotiates Wesley’s release but surrenders herself to be married to the king, believing that her man will get killed if she doesn’t. (She later learns that she must believe that death will not stop true love!)

How about You’ve Got Mail? Remember the scene where the hero and heroine are going to meet in the coffee shop for the first time—but the hero sees her and realizes that ShopGirl is his nemesis! He’ll have to regroup and win her heart online before he can reveal himself. He sacrifices the opportunity to meet her in the hopes that something better will transpire.

Going back to some of the movies we’ve talked about:

In Cellular, Ryan is running up the stairs in the police station with the cell phone when the reception begins to fail. Worse, on the other end of the line, the victim is attacked and we discover her child is in jeopardy. Suddenly our hero has to make a choice: Will he alert the police, and possibly let the reception die, or will he attempt to save the child before the villains can kidnap him, also? His cost? He won’t be able to complete the errand for his girlfriend, thus confirming his irresponsibility (in her eyes) and losing the girl.

Give your hero a moment to consider what character change will cost him—and have it be brutal, something that is a true sacrifice. Only then will the sacrifice be truly heart-wrenching.

Book Therapist Question

• What does your character have to lose if he tries again, or continues on the quest?
  
• Have you created enough of a motivation to sacrifice their dream despite the pain? (i.e., losing something
  greater
  ?)
  

Yeah, but what about me?

So, every summer, I take the five week beginner’s tennis class through our local community center. Let me say that again.
Every summer I take the beginner’s tennis class.

That’s right. Just the
beginner’s
. Yes, there’s an intermediate class. And an advanced level class. And then people actually
play
each other. For points. And wins.

But see, progressing would require something, well, that I’ve tried to push out of my brain ever since I escaped six years of piano lessons: practice.

Now the thing is, I do like tennis. I like watching it and I like playing it. I like hitting the ball so that it bounces inside the line, and then out of reach of my opponent. Yes, occasionally it happens. But for the most part, there I am, the one hitting air as the ball flies past me.

It’s gonna take a lot of practice to get this girl into the intermediate class. And truth is: I just don’t see it. Because once I get there—I’m going to have to play
other
intermediate players. Who will beat me. And then I’ll have to practice more to get to the
advanced
level. Where I’ll get beat again.

The bottom line is . . . why? What’s in it for me? (Humiliation is not a reward, by the way.) I suppose someone could suggest that I could concentrate on the
fun
of tennis—and it is fun—and the occasional thrill when I land a serve
inside
the service box. But so far, the reward isn’t greater than the cost.

(Although, something inside me compels me to return to the courts every summer. I think that’s called
faith.
)

Now that you’ve brought your character to their first attempt and failure, and given them a glimpse of what it will cost them to succeed, then you need to give them a reward for succeeding.

Your character has to see past the
Costs
to the
Rewards
.
And, they have to believe that it’s possible. Or at least, that it could be. Seeing the Costs and the Rewards will make them look inside, to ask
why
that Reward is worth fighting for. (Later, they’ll discover what it is inside them that stands in the way.) But for now they have to believe that their attempt and cost is worth the battle.

So, how do you give them a reward? Here are some ideas:

Give them a hero.
Someone who has been the course, and fought the good fight, who knows the Reward. Like Jean Villeneuve, the French Commander who befriends Benjamin Martin, who has lost his daughters and wife to the British, but has fought with honor. And, Gabriel, Benjamin’s oldest son who fights with compassion. He believes that others have kept their character and goodness intact . . . perhaps he can also. Other heroes are Obe-Wan-Kenobi, who was the Jedi master, and Luke’s mentor. Or, in
Sleepless in Seattle
, Annie’s parents, who had a long-lasting true love.

Give them a glimpse of the darkness.
Up the ante by adding into the mix the “what if we do nothing” question. Give them a glimpse of what could happen if they
don’t
fight the good fight. For, example, at the end of
Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring,
Frodo and gang fight Mordor’s creepy army, and they realize just how evil Sauron is. They know destruction will overrun the land if they don’t stop it.

Give them a cause.
Kidnap their sidekick, make them fall in love with the princess, save a kingdom – anything to make them realize that if they give up, they’ll lose what they love.
Titanic
is a classic example (I can’t think of that movie without hearing—“Jack, Jack! Come back!”) Falling in love makes them realize what they have to live for! In
Eagle Eye
, Jerry Shaw is bound by honor—the life of the son of the woman whose fate is tied with his is at risk.

The Reward has to be at least as vivid, as compelling, as tangible as the cost. Or frankly, they’ll end up taking the beginner’s class, year after year, after year.

Book Therapy Question

• Have you given your character a glimpse of the reward that awaits change, and victory?
  
• Giving them a Hero?
  
• Showing them the alternative?
  
• Giving them another cause to fight for?