You know that moment as a writer, when you’ve been charging through the story, high on how fantastic it is, and then suddenly…it all STOPS. The next scene doesn’t form in your head. You’ve got nothing.
Behind your characters, a string of bright and captivating scenes mark the trail of that rocket of inspiration; ahead of your characters, a foggy expanse, stretching to who-knows-where, a few shapeless blobs that should be scenes floating in the nothingness.The rocket is dead, and not refueling any time soon.
Well, to everybody who’s suffered this, or is currently suffering it, there’s a way to navigate through that fog. A map. Directions and a destination.
Or, more specifically, events that form the underlying structure of the story.
This post is going to focus on one facet of story structure: character arc. Structure is something people subconsciously recognize and expect, and if the story doesn’t match those expectations, they feel cheated (though usually can’t explain why). Every good story follows a structure. So if you know structure, you’ll always know where to go next, and won’t get lost in the fog.
So here are the 8 steps of a character arc:
1) Hero: Strength, Weakness, and Need
This happens in the setup of the story, when the main character’s ordinary world is being introduced. First, the main character’s strengths must be displayed; we must be given a reason to like them, or if not exactly “like” them, empathize with them, and be fascinated by them. The reader needs to bond with the character, feel concerned about how it all turns out for them. Or in other words, feel that the main character is worth experiencing the story. There are easy traits that do this: courage, love, humor, being in danger, being unfairly treated, being highly skilled at something, having a powerful noble goal. (Courage is the one they all need. If the character doesn’t have the gumption to actively pursue what they want, they are automatically a background character.)
After this, still in the beginning of your story, let the character exhibit what needs to change. Show their weaknesses of character and self awareness. And lastly, hint at what they NEED to learn. Sometimes this is even stated to the character, and they don’t understand it, refuse to believe it, or condemn it. Like “A Christmas Carol”, when Scrooge’s nephew says his speech about Christmas and how wonderful it is, and Scrooge replies “Bah Humbug!"
2) Desire: This is the moment when the character knows what they need to pursue, in order to obtain what they inwardly want. It is not the inciting incident or catalyst, the event in a story that disrupts the ordinary world and calls the hero on an adventure. This is a separate step entirely, occurring after that catalyst has shattered life as the main character knows it. They believe obtaining this goal will calm whatever inner turmoil or conflict they’re battling. And always, they’re not quite right. Think of Mr Fredricksen: His goal is to get the house – a symbolic representation of Ellie and the life he shared with her – to Paradise Falls, which he believes will heal his grief and guilt. It won’t. Once he obtains it, the achievement feels hollow. But I’m getting ahead of myself. So on we go!
3) Plan: Once in Act Two, the character is going to scramble for a plan of action. The inner want has solidified into a tangible goal, but they need a strategy to achieve it. This also spells out for the reader what to expect in that second act.
4) Conflict: What’s going to try stopping them? A hero with a goal is one thing, but to make it a story we need something that stands in the way. An obstacle. A force of opposition. If we didn’t have obstacles, books would be as interesting as "Harry Potter and the Trip to the Grocery Store.” (Although honestly, I’d probably read that.) After the catalyst has changed everything, after the character crosses the threshold into Act Two, everything from here on out will be laden with conflict. This is usually when enemies, or more accurately forces of opposition, begin to appear. Everything is accumulating to complicate the main character’s pathway to achieving what they want. The forces of opposition come from not only the villains, but from the actions that have to be taken to achieve the desire. Whatever this action is, it’s exactly what the main character is not suited to do, an action that pressures their flaws, exposes them to exactly what they need to become but can’t right now.
Like Stitch being forced to be the family dog. He’s not suited to this task.
5) Battle: The forces of opposition are amping up, growing stronger, fighting with greater intensity. The main character is taking the punches and working around them, relentlessly plowing forward. Hero and allies are usually punching back too.
6) Midpoint: This is the event where they first encounter what they need to learn, what they need to become. Something happens that forces them to behave in this new, life-saving way. But once they’ve seen it, they don’t know what to do with this knowledge.
7) Dark Night, Revelation, Choice: This is always the darkest point in the story, where all seems lost, and death – of a literal or spiritual nature – is in the air. And in this moment, something usually happens that makes the main character wake up to what is wrong, and what they need. More often than not, this revelation will arrive from the “love story” or relationship of the plot, and will be the thing that helps them pull themselves out of despair and see the light. And once this is uncovered, once the revelation of the truth about themselves is recognized, they are faced with a choice. Of course, they’ve been faced with choices in every beat of every scene, but this is the big choice that is going to determine if their story has a happy ending or a tragic one. The choice is this: “You are being faced the truth that you need to heal. Are you going to choose what you need, let your old self die, and become someone better?” And always, always, always this is a hard choice. The revelation must be significant to them. And it’s never easy. It can’t be. We don’t write stories about heroes who make easy choices. Villains have it easy. Are you going to adopt this new way of living, adopt this truth, and let your old self die? Or are you going to stay the way you are (which feels safer and is much less challenging) but end up stuck in a sort of living death? Most of the time, of course, they choose the right thing.
This moment is usually always the saddest scene in the thing. Like this scene with Stitch.
8) New Life: This is their changed life. After experiencing the trials of the story, after realizing what they need and choosing to be reborn, they are going to be different people – and are going to live a different life. This is what follows the statement “And every day after …” What has changed? Show the audience how things are different, how things are better, because they want to see that. This is the resolution, the wrapping up of everything we’ve been through with the main character, and having this in the story is often what gives that feeling of satisfaction after seeing a really well-told story.
So! To show off how this works, I’ve chosen the character arc of Carl from Up.
1) Hero: Strengths, Weakness, Need
Strengths: Reasons to like Carl are packed into that heartbreaking opening sequence. By the end of it, we love him, love Ellie, and are crying our eyes out.
Weaknesses: Now Carl is curmudgeonly, grumpy, cold, and won’t pay attention to a living soul. He’s also plagued by grief, regret, guilt, and loneliness. (Which we are all 100% okay with, because we already like him.)
Need: He needs Russel. The statement of what he needs to learn isn’t outright said (as it will be later) but Russel represents it.
Step Two: The catalyst was when a truck knocked down Ellie’s mailbox, Carl hit a construction worker in the head with his cane, and for this a judge declares him a public menace and orders him to go to Shady Oaks Retirement Village. The DESIRE is this moment.
Carl escapes in a flying house, thousands of balloons lifting him skyward. He even says the desire of the whole story out loud, “So long boys! I’ll send you a postcard from Paradise Falls!” The tangible goal is “live out the rest of his days in his and Ellie’s house, on the edge of Paradise Falls, South America.” (“It’s like America … but South.”)
Step Three: The plan and the conflict overlap, as they are wont to do. We have a scene where Carl is unfurling sails, setting a compass, and settling back in his chair for a smooth journey. But later on, after some conflict has arrived, we have Russel figuring out how to actually make it there. And after even more conflict has arrived, we have him telling Russel “We’re going to walk to the falls quickly and quietly, with no rap music or flash-dancing.”
Step Four: The moment he settles back into his armchair, high above the city, and here’s a knock on the front door, nothing is going to be easy for Carl. First, we have opposition in the form of Russel. Then we have a storm. Then the house lands miles away from the Falls, so they’ll have to walk it. Then we have Kevin, the giant bird. Then we have Dug. Which means they’re also being chased by a legion of talking dogs. Which brings us to Muntz, the main villain, and Carl’s shadow – the representation of Carl’s flaws, and the consequences of refusing to let go of the past.
Step Five: This is the trek to the Falls. It’s also the battle with every complication that arises. And it’s also exactly what Carl is not suited to do. He’s a curmudgeonly old guy, bent on living out the rest of his life alone. Well, the story says “Nope, Carl, that’s not how it’s going to be” and promptly gives him a surrogate grandson to take care of, a dog who adores him, and even a giant mythical bird. And he has to lead them all, if he’s going to get to the Falls.
Step Six: The moment when Russel invades Carl’s heart. Which is what he needs, but he doesn’t understand. (I have the scene beated out in the previous post.)
Step Seven: Finally, he gives in to the worst of himself and chooses his goal of living in his broken house on the edge of Paradise Falls. But somehow this doesn’t feel like victory. He’s still alone, next to Ellie’s empty chair, and she is still beyond his reach.
He picks up her adventure book, and leafs through the photographs, missing her; he pauses on the page scrawled with the words “Stuff I’m Going To Do”, lets his hand rest on it, grief and regret overwhelming him. He begins to close the book, and the page shifts … revealing the edge of another picture. Surprised, he turns the page. It’s their wedding picture.
Ellie added picture after picture of their happy marriage, the whole wonderful life they shared, all the things she did. And on the bottom of the last page is her last message to him: “Thanks for the adventure! Now go have a new one! Love, Ellie.” Exactly what Carl needs. He doesn’t need to be guilty, he doesn’t need to regret the past. The past was beautiful, and she will never truly leave him.
Choice: So, Carl can make the choice to throw everything out of the house to go save Russel.
New Life: Sitting on a curb, eating ice cream with Russel.
In the credits, we see a whole new life – or new adventure – with Carl, Russel, Dug, and even a bunch of new puppies.
So, it’s actually pretty simple. And once again, it’s fun to develop your own stories like this, but it’s surprisingly fun to analyze movies and books with it too. It improves your storytelling ability, I’ve found. Practice makes perfect.
I hope this post helps somebody out. It’ll make the ten times I cried while writing it, while watching scenes from Up, worth it.
if there is anything you learn from me, let it be this:
there is no statute of limitations on healing.
there is no expiration date on the ache
that won’t stop following you around
no matter who tells you there is.
i do not mean to hurt you when i tell you this;
your kiss with trauma or the nights you spent with death,
these things are not going to leave you as quickly as you wish they would.
it hurt and it’s going to keep hurting.
do not forgive and forget.
do not bury this and believe it is leaving.
it isn’t going to leave you as suddenly as it came
so stop trying to pretend it is.
cry if you still need to.
breathe if you still can.
do not be angry at yourself for hurting still.
do not be angry at yourself for hurting still.
do not be angry at yourself for hurting still.
On Healing, Sarah Kate Osborn (to follow On Grief)
If you don’t let it out, the grief becomes a scream trapped inside your soul, a constant cry in the dark, a sob you can never release. So scream, shout, cry, the way the sky does with thunder and lightning and rain…for it knows it is being cleansed, it knows that it’s storm is the only way to release the pain.
when he leaves, frame the footsteps; burn your tenth-grade biology textbook when it tells you that fossils are a one-in-a-million chance. make fossils anyway. watch the news when they exclaim that INFLATION IS RISING IN CURRENCY, IN EVERY ASPECT OF LIFE and
ask yourself how it feels to ruin the world.
remember that you have done that every day since you were six. the time your best friend broke down on a thursday night while you were drunk in the best way possible. when your brother’s dog died and he found her by himself. how your grandfather is recovering from a surgery alone. he has been in rehab for sixteen days.
when he leaves, frame the footsteps. hang them on the wall beside yours.
lonely again (catherine w // sempiternalwriting)
You let time pass. That’s the cure. You survive the days. You float like a rabid ghost through the weeks. You cry and wallow and lament and scratch your way back up through the months. And then one day you find yourself alone on a bench in the sun and you close your eyes and lean your head back and you realize you’re okay.
Two weeks ago I received a Facebook request from my Mother. I swear my heart stopped then I pressed the “decline” button. A wave of anger and sadness rised up so I called my friend F. He reminded me that I did the right thing by declining her requested: “ You don’t need people like her in your life.” He lovingly listened to me. I then let my two other closest friends M and P know. They both had the same reaction: “ Are you ok?” “Do you think she was genuine?”
I was touched by my friends love and support. I was also trying not to analyse why she send me this request… But I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Why??? Maybe she is just checking in. Maybe she still doesn’t get why I don’t speak to her and rest of the family.
For those of you who are new to this blog, my Mother was a very abusive narcissist.Her little brother raped me but, apparently, I should forget about it. The fact that this was done to me isn’t an excuse for my difficult behavior. “ You have always been a difficult, unhappy child.” And, last summer, I relived the day when she beat me up telling me she was going to kill me… She never wanted me and I knew it really well. She didn’t love me (Please don’t tell me that crap “She loved you in her own way!! Abuse isn’t love. Not all Mothers are capable of loving. )
I stopped visiting her after my last holidays back home (France) with my then partner and our 6 months old Daughter. My Mother told me I wasnt a good Mother. She wanted me to clean the house using my Daughter as an excuse. She had tantrums in front of my partner. I came back in London and broke down. I didn’t want to hold my baby as I was scared to hurt her.
It took me a few more years before cutting contact. She had spend the last year trying to “commit” suicide. She was sanctioned. I was on regular contact with my little Brother and with her. I was listening to her and I supported her as much as I could. I got tired of not getting any update unless I called. When she was out of hospital, she was back to her usual self and putting me down. I had enough.
It was hard and it took me ages to recover from “divorcing” my Mother. Suddendly, I had a better and clearer understanding of what happened during my childhood. It was dark and terrifying.
Two years later, she send me an email. It wasn’t her first email but until then I didn’t reply. One of the first thing she said was: “ So, are you done being angry?” It didn’t last long as I told her not to give my personal details to any other members of the family but ,a few weeks later, I received an email from a cousin I barely knew. She needed help to find a work experience placement and somewhere to stay over the summer, here in London. She even told my cousin about my depression - I wasn’t well at the time. I stopped it then and there: it was clear I couldn’t trust her. I send her an email to let her know and blocked her.
I didn’t contact her since. Nor did she, until last week’s request.
What got me this time was how sad I felt of not being able to reach out to her. I can’t have a loving Mother. I never had one and never will. It is even a matter of safety for me not to have her by my side. I still feel sad. I am grieving. I peeled off many layers of grief for the last few years and this process seems to get deeper and deeper at each layers. I am chanting for acceptance of this lose.
I had two very emotional dreams about her since last week. None were traumatic but I’ve been feeling like retreating at home and resting. For once, I don’t give myself a hard time for needing my own space. Altough I got drunk twice and I knew very well it was my way to make it all better. I felt silly. I don’t like losing control of my emotions.
The last few days, I feel even closer to myself Daughter. I love her so much and I will never let her go. I’ve also been in touch with my closest friends on a daily basis. They support me and I feel their love.
I am not alone.
Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close by Jonathan Safran Foer
“No spoilers here, but we will say that the book–which includes a number of photographs and some eccentric typography–ends with what is undoubtedly the most beautiful and heartbreaking flip book in all of literature.” –Booklist
Oskar Schell is unlike any nine-year-old you will ever meet. Bright and quirky, it is safe to say he is a little weird. He makes jewelry, he speaks French, he plays the tambourine, he is a Shakespearean actor, jeweler, pacifist, vegan, historian and correspondent with Stephen Hawking and Ringo Starr. When his father passes away in the September 11th attacks, Oskar is left depressed until he finds a mysterious envelope with a key, titled, “Black” in his father’s closet. Filled with inspiration and hope, Oskar embarks on an adventure to find the lock of the key. During his journey, he travels through the five boroughs of New York, where he meets interesting characters with their own survival stories. What begins as an innocent, heartfelt testimonial of loyalty to his father, ends up as a heartbreakingly beautiful climax, which leads to his father’s grave.
Although the plot seems rather thin, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close is far quirkier than you believe. Reflecting Oskar’s intellectualism, Foer’s writing is experimental. With several back stories, including the Hiroshima and Dresden bombing, as well as others’ stories of trauma, Foer’s writing is intuitive: it lacks punctuation and shifts narrative. It contains eccentric, illegible typography (where the words are mounted on top of each other) blank pages, pages with one liners, sweet monologs, illustrations and scribbles. Although it may be perceived as gimmicky, it is highly stylistic and unique.
Without a doubt, Foer’s delicate style adds to the sentimentality of the novel. Make no reservations here, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close will make the coldest heart shed a tear. Foer has created a prose on the exploration of grief and healing. As a result of the highly sensitive topic and young narrator, there are no mild feelings procured here, you will feel a gut-wrenching beautiful ache or a bitter taste in your mouth. Note, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Closenavigates two extremes of the spectrum, between beautiful sadness and manipulation.
The tree planting was a success, and the rain held off. Each child decorated a rock and placed it at the base of the tree. The blue pinwheel is one of four of different colors that they had outside the daycare entrance last year - and it’s the only one to have survived intact through the brutal winter. I’ve had similar ones on James’ grave over the past year. The director wrote James’ name and his dates of birth and death on the pages of the book the little angel is holding.
Ray was sleeping when I got there, but I basically said, “Sorry buddy, but I’m not doing this without you!” and picked him up.
The ceremony was very sweet. James’ girlfriend/future wife took it upon herself to be the first one to place her rock, which seemed so appropriate to me. Each class held a baby blue balloon and we all let them go at the same time. I gratefully took the opportunity to say a few words through my tears, mainly wanting to tell the staff that the work they do is so important and to thank them for loving our kids.
Three folks from my agency - including my case worker and home finder - came and they gave me the little mom and baby statue. It made me bawl - I had just been thinking about the last time I held James when he was alive, and it was in the rocking chair in his nursery and his head was on my shoulder, just like this.
Did my first spell jar! Inspired by @witchy-woman ’s jars. And I used her wax sealing method.
This is a jar that I specifically designed for my family to help with the grieving process. (My brother suddenly died about 2 weeks ago, for those who don’t know)
After I came home from NYC to be with my family, I threw myself into doing magical research, especially with herbs. I was hardly doing any school work, I was just writing in my grimoire or herb book all the time. I think it was a way for me to distract myself with somewhat monotonous information. Information that I thought might help the situation somehow.
I got it in my head to make a spell jar to help my family after I left to go back up to nyc.
This has has three main intentions: 1. to help with healing, 2. to give physical, spiritual and emotional protection, and 3. to bring peace, calm and positivity.
I put alot of stuff in here, cause I tend to go overboard with things, and I was also able to visit a metaphysical shop while I was in Fairfax for a shoot and pick up some stones + herbs. (Shout out to Sticks and Stones and the associate who helped me there, you were lovely to talk to)
But I could very well have made this just with household/easily found herbs.
I’m hoping that this is able to reach other witches out there who have just lost a loved one, or anyone who is dealing with grief.
I hadn’t really seen a spell jar like this out there, so I designed my own to have the qualities I wanted.
(Listed in the order of how I layered them in)
A small Amethyst — for peace, happiness, and to help heal personal loss and grief
Sea Salt — for protection
Yarrow flowers — for love, healing, and releasing negativity
Thyme — for courage, healing, health, protection, a positive attitude, and help in moving forward
Solomon’s Seal Root — for protection
Catnip — for the protection + benefit of my family’s three cats, and also for peace, love, happiness and sleep
Rosemary — for love, blessing, healing, protection, strength and peace
Sage — for banishing negativity, healing, and dealing with loss and grief
Lemon Balm — for healing, love and help with mental disorders
Black pepper — for protection
Jasmine flowers — for restful sleep, pleasant dreams, and general pleasantness/happiness
Two torn up sigils that I made, one for my family’s comfort, another for their protection
Dried Violets from my backyard — for peace, harmony and to calm nerves
Dried Rose Petals — for love
I sealed it with green candle wax for healing and black candle wax for protection.
I kind of enchanted it (at least the Amethyst) to release feelings of love and comfort when shaken and I told my mom to give it a shake every time she wants to be reminded of my love. I placed it in the kitchen where my family will be the most.
Let me know what you think. I’m quite proud of it!
So, it turns out that putting Ray to bed last night was one of the hardest parts of this whole one-year-later thing. There were too many similarities that I couldn’t control - it was a hot night, Ray was running a slight temp (teething, not illness)… I held him extra tight and extra long, but my breath still caught in my throat as I closed the door to the nursery and told him “night-night.”
His teething was a blessing in disguise, since he woke up several times, whimpered for a minute - long enough to wake me up so I could hear him - then fell back asleep.
I realized during the day yesterday that next year might be even more difficult, since Ray will be the same age James was when he died. I’ve already decided that I will reserve the right to sleep on the floor of the nursery that night if I feel I need to.