Crafting the Character Arc

by Jennie Jarvis

  Elizabeth Bennett’s change is also rather subtle in Pride and Prejudice. While she is still the kind and proper girl she was at the beginning of the book, she has been humbled by the events of her journey. Once so quick to judge others, including her parents and the men in her town, she has been taught that her opinions of other people are not facts. She has learned to keep her silence in case she might not be quite correct in how she judges others.

  Regardless of how subtle a transition the change might be, a writer must incorporate some kind of change to the protagonist. Otherwise, what was the point of a reader/viewer going on the adventure with them? What impact did the story have on the day-to-day dealings of the character’s life? If the events of the story don’t have any kind of impact, then why were those events important enough to write about them?

  For writers who have a hard time figuring out how they want their protagonist to change, I recommend they think of lessons the journey might have taught the character. Even if a writer can’t quite get their head around the idea of how their character has grown and changed, picking a concrete lesson for the character to learn can usually have the same effect. After all, a person must change every time they learn. In The Goonies, Mikey learns not to rely on others (symbolized by his inhaler) and to take charge of his own destiny. In Wreck-It Ralph, Ralph learns the lesson recited at the top of the film (“I’m bad, and that’s okay”). In Dark Places, Libby Day learns she doesn’t have to be a victim anymore. Elizabeth Bennett learns not to jump to conclusions about people based on first impressions. Dorothy learns there is no place like home.

  The key thing to remember here is, just like the Falling Action, showing this New Place of Rest needs to take as little time as possible. Something as simple as a single action (throwing away an inhaler) or a single line of dialogue (“There’s no place like home”) can show this change. Spending too long on the change will have the same effect as spending too long on the Falling Action. Again, when the goal is won, the story is done.

  But What About The Sequel?

  A common question I get asked when it comes to the end of a story is this: What if this is just part one of a larger story? This is a valid question, especially since many publishers love to purchase a series over a stand-alone novel. This is because the audience gained by the first book will help feed the marketing of the second book and so on. So what do you do? Do you end the first book somewhere in the middle of the Rising Action?

  Even if you are writing a novel series, it’s always best for your first novel to be structured around a self-contained Major Dramatic Curve. Only the Falling Action should contain the obvious set-up for the next chapter in the larger story. A great example is The Hunger Games. The first book contains a complete narrative arc with hints at a possible sequel. Katniss is incited when her sister’s name is called at the Reaping. Her goal is to save her sister, which includes volunteering for her and then returning home afterwards so she can take care of her sister. Her primary tactic – to try to win the Hunger Games. Her primary obstacles are the Hunger Games, the other tributes, and the traps set-up by the game-makers. She wins her goal when she returns to her sister, but during the Falling Action, we get the hint that not all is well in Katniss’s world. If a reader chose to only read the first book, they would feel satisfied with their reading experience, even if they don’t pick up Catching Fire or Mockingjay. This complete curve gave readers a full, satisfying story, while still opening up the world for future books in the same series.

  Screenplays are not sold the same way books are, and should never be written with a sequel in mind. If a screenwriter is lucky enough to sell their original screenplay, they need to make sure it has a complete beginning, middle, and end. If the screenplay sells and the production company or studio is excited about the story, they can always request a rewrite of the film, allowing for an more open-ended structure, before the screenplay goes into production. The only exception to this would be if the project has been commissioned by a producer who has a guaranteed distribution deal for multiple pictures.

  Crafting Your Falling Action and New Place of Rest

  Write a paragraph about your protagonist’s Falling Action and New Place of Rest. As you write, consider the following:

  1. What unanswered questions do you need to answer after the character has won or lost the main goal (after the Climax)? Is there a way to answer these questions before the Climax? If not, why not?

  2. If you have to have a Falling Action, how long will it take to complete that section? What remains to keep the reader/viewer engaged in the narrative? What will the story gain by including that section?

  3. How does your protagonist’s New Place of Rest compare to their initial Resting Period? How have they changed/morphed, transformed as a character? What lessons have they learned or failed to learn? How has she or he improved or declined as a human being? How can you SHOW these things? If they haven’t changed, what is the significance of their narrative? Why would a reader/viewer bother going on the adventure with them to begin with?

  4. Have you completed your narrative or opened it up for sequels? If you are planning on having sequels to your story, then do you have a complete Major Dramatic Curve in your first narrative? If not, why not? Is it possible to have a complete Curve that serves as the first chapter in a larger world?

  5. What is the final line or image you will use to end your narrative? Just like the first impression is important, leaving the reader/viewer with a lasting final moment is key.

  Part 3

  Using the Character Arc

  Good story’ means something worth telling

  that the world wants to hear.

  Finding this is your lonely task...

  But the love of a good story,

  of terrific characters and a world

  driven by your passion, courage,

  and creative gifts is still not enough.

  Your goal must be a good story well told.

  — Robert McKee

  Chapter 11

  Using the Major Dramatic Curve:

  A Practical Guide

  Now that you have studied each element of the Curve on its own and saw how those pieces worked together to form a complete and well developed Character Arc, there is still one question remaining: How do you practically apply what you’ve learned to your own writing?

  The answer varies based on two major factors: 1) Where are you in your writing process and 2) in what format are you writing?

  Within the Writing Process

  Based on where you are within your writing process, how you use this Curve will vary slightly. As with any kind of craft technique, once you think about the Major Dramatic Curve in relation to your story, you may find yourself in need of drastic changes. This isn’t anything to panic about. Just remember the writing process is a process, and rewriting will only get you closer and closer to your individual writing goal.

  If you are still in the planning phases of your writing project, you will be happy to know this is the easiest time to apply the Major Dramatic Curve. Whether you develop your story by free writing, outlining, mind-mapping or any other method, you should be able to incorporate the ideas of this book without too much stress. Simply ask yourself what elements of the Curve already exist in your planned story:

  Do you establish your protagonist in their Ordinary World?

  Do you have some kind of external event that launches your protagonist after a goal?

  Is your protagonist an active or reactive character?

  What is the goal?

  What are the tactics your character uses to try to win that goal?

  What stands in his or her way (obstacles)?

  What is a Point of No Return (Crisis Point) moment that occurs near the end of the story?

  What is the Climax of the story?

  Is it the moment where the protagonist wins the goal or have you identified an Emotional Climax by mistake?

  What lingering questions need to be tied
up before the end of the story?

  Can you tie them up before the Climax to reduce the amount of time spent on Falling Action?

  What is the New Place of Rest for your protagonist?

  How does it mirror the way in which we first met him or her?

  What lessons did your character learn as a result of this struggle?

  For plotters, this should be a very fun and invigorating process of question and answer. Plotters are writers who plan ahead. The way they discover their world is through outlining, building character bibles or other preparation based methods of idea development. These are the writers who usually know every event of their story (or very nearly every event) before they sit down to write a word.

  Purgers, however, might find this kind of questioning a bit more frustrating. Purgers are the writers who discover their story by writing it. These are the writers who spend years developing a narrative because they aren’t entirely sure where they want it go before they begin. They discover the characters, the world and the plot by rewriting it, again and again, often throwing out hundreds, if not thousands, of pages of writing in the process. For these kinds of writers, they may find themselves saying “I don’t’ know!” to many of the questions pertaining to the Major Dramatic Curve: “What’s your Climax?” Um… I don’t know. “What’s your protagonist’s goal?” I don’t know. “Who is your protagonist?” I don’t know!

  There has long been the debate as to which kind of writers are best: Plotters or Purgers. Plotters tend to be more adept at creating faster-paced stories with a solid structure but their characters and world building are often lacking. Conversely, Purgers tend to better world and character builders, but their plots lack structure and they tend to take much longer to complete a project. In my opinion, there is plenty of room in the world for both kinds of writers, but it’s usually a good idea to try to find a middle ground when it comes to applying the Major Dramatic Curve.

  My recommendation to anyone in the beginning stages of writing a story is to use a synopsis (also known as a treatment or golden path play-through) to develop the Major Dramatic Curve. Even if you aren’t completely sure where your story will end up, write the synopsis of your story in its entirety. Purgers, as you write, those holes in your story will begin to fill in. Plotters, as you write, you will see the bigger picture of your final story. This synopsis shouldn’t be short, but don’t feel like you have to include every detail. You aren’t writing the completed book or script. You are writing a synopsis. A good rule of thumb is to try to use one page of treatment for every 25 pages of script or one page of summary for every 8500 words planned. Obviously, you never completely know how long your final story will wind up, but use broad generalities based on the format or genre in which you write. Screenplays tend to be about 110 pages. Young Adult novels tend to be about 60,000 words. Mainstream, adult novels are about 85,000 words. Fantasy/sci-fi novels can be anywhere from 85,000 to 150,000 words. Use your best guesses and do your research to find the market length is of similar stories in your genre.

  Once you have completed your synopsis or treatment, print it out and grab a highlighter (or use a highlighting feature on your word processing software) and look for the major elements of the Major Dramatic Curve. Identify the Place of Rest, Inciting Incident, Tactics and Obstacles of the Rising Action, Crisis Point and Climax. How much Falling Action do you have before you establish the New Place of Rest?

  When you are done, you can look at your highlighted areas and assess what elements need to be addressed in order to have a fully developed Major Dramatic Curve. You might be missing a Crisis Point, or you might have way too much Place of Rest before your Inciting Incident. Once you know what you need to do, you can put that synopsis aside and write a brand new one that addresses the changes you decided to make. Continue to highlight and re-write until your synopsis is as perfect as you can make it. Then you can break the synopsis apart, picking what story elements will go into which chapters or acts and use it as a living outline of your narrative.

  If you have already written a part or all of your story, then you will want to stop where you are and write up a synopsis as well. Include everything in that synopsis, including the sections of the story you have already written. This will force you to rethink what you wrote and honestly assess if you have too much backstory or not enough time before your Inciting Incident.

  Stories tend to fall apart in two places: the very beginning or the middle. Unfortunately, we can sometimes be so close to our stories we become blind to its faults. I’ve also seen many beginning writers who think of what they have already written as being written in stone: “I already wrote it, so I can’t change it!” This is why it’s so important to step away from what you have already written and write it fresh in a synopsis. Writing it again in a new document will often help you see what you might have been blind to before. You may have too much world building (Place of Rest) before your story starts. Or you might not have established your character’s personality before the Inciting Incident. If you are too close to your story because you have already taken the time and creative energy to write some of it, then stepping away and looking at it with fresh eyes may be the most important thing you ever do for your writing career.

  Once you have written and highlighted your synopsis, you have two choices: 1) get right into rewriting your story or 2) you can continue to re-write your synopsis, again and again, highlighting and making changes, until you know exactly how you want your final story to build. I highly recommend going with option two because of the reduced workload it creates in the long run. Rewriting a six-page synopsis will take a lot less time than rewriting 51000 words or 70 pages of a screenplay. However, some writers don’t work that way. They get so excited about the changes they want to make, they dive right in and make those changes without looking at the bigger picture. Both ways can be effective, but it might take a lot more time if you don’t take the time to rewrite your synopsis.

  What Are You Writing

  The wonderful thing about the Major Dramatic Curve is that it works across writing formats. The concepts here can be used in novels, short stories, web series, comic books, screenplays, stage plays, graphic novels, games, television shows and other narrative formats we have yet to develop. The flexibility of this structure exists because of the universal nature of its primary component – a protagonist with an active goal.

  How we apply this flexible structure to various formats takes a bit of thought and adaptation. We know each story, regardless of format, needs a Place of Rest at the beginning of the story, but how much is enough? We know the Crisis Point needs to come near the end of the story, but where exactly at the end? How close to or far away from the Climax should it be? Let’s look at each of these elements in turn:

  The Place of Rest leading to the Inciting Incident – In the world of screenwriting, this element is rather cut and dry. As I explained in Chapter One, screenwriters are told their Inciting Incident must come on page 10 or page 12 (depending on whether the writer follows Field’s or Snyder’s guidelines). Therefore, those first 9-11 pages leading up to the Inciting Incident will be the Place of Rest.

  In the world of novel writing, there is much more flexibility in the length of the Place of Rest and the placement of the Inciting Incident. Young Adult novels tend to have the first chapter serve as the Place of Rest with the Inciting Incident occurring at the end of the first chapter. The Hunger Games, Chapter One, ends with Prim’s name being called at the Reaping. Many other shorter (45,000-75,000) novels do the same thing in the interest of getting to the main storyline faster. The exception is when Chapter One is meant to take the place of a Prologue in terms of world building (Prologues tend not to be used as much in writing the way they once were. One explanation for this is modern readers tend to skip over prologues and epilogues because they don’t feel/know they are part of the story. Authors counter this by simply marking their prologues/epilogues as chapters). For example, in Harry Potter and The Sorcer
er’s/Philosopher’s Stone, Chapter One shows Harry being left at his aunt and uncle’s home as a baby. This would have been called a Prologue in another era.

  Longer books, especially fantasies, however, may take a bit longer to get to the Inciting Incident. Because the book has more of a breadth to its length, the reader knows he/she has signed on to a longer story. Fantasy stories might use those extra pages for world building. Epic romances may do the same thing in order to establish customs or rituals. Some stories might use this extra space to wrap up a past saga while setting up the new one. The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring (1954) does this nicely. The beginning of the book wraps up the plotline of Bilbo Baggins, first introduced in his own book, The Hobbit, in 1937. Tolkien wanted readers to know what happened to this beloved figure and then pass the torch onto the new protagonist, Frodo Baggins, several chapters later.

  It’s important to remember, however, that we are not J.R.R. Tolkien, and so we want to get to the heart of our story as soon as we can. Remember, we live in an era where readers are used to plot based narratives (mostly because of the rise in popularity of films, TV shows and games), and so we want to limit that world building material to only what is truly essential. If you can introduce some world building after the Inciting Incident, then try to do that as much as you can.