The elemental principle here: Focus on the Protagonist.
Holding focus on a single person throughout a narrative satisfies our unconscious, innate need to relate to a single life outside of our own as a means to finding deeper truths within ourselves. Stories mirror us. It’s one of the reasons we’ve gathered around campfires for millennia and it’s why our most resonant stories follow a single hero as they struggle to break through their obstacles.
A recent screening of Love and Other Disasters (written and directed by Alek Keshishian) offers a good example of narrative fuzzy focus. This film’s logline:
A hyperactive and high-fashion American transplant living in London and working for Vogue magazine does her best to enhance the lives of those around her while remaining blissfully unaware of the man who longs to profess his true love to her.
So that puts our focus on the girl as protagonist. The film, however, plays out around her roommate’s search for true love as embodied in a chance encounter with one man. And truly, his storyline was the most compelling. Why? For one, he was the one with the problem and with something to lose. He was the one for whom some life-changing external event forced change in his life. He was the one around whom friends rallied support and, lastly, he was the one who learned a life lesson (before she) in the end. Sounds like the making of a hero, no?
Welcome Coverage, Ink Readers!
July 25, 2008
In case you missed it, story consultant and Coverage, Ink founder Jim Cirile featured our post on throughlines in this week’s Coverage, Ink/Writers on the Storm Newsletter (7-23-08). Thanks Jim!
If you’re new to screenwriting or know someone who is and there’s a script burning a hole in their pocket, the Writers on the Storm 2008 Screenplay Competition’s deadline approacheth. Enter by Sunday, June 27th at midnight for your shot at $22,000 in total prizes, including a $10,000 cash grand prize. There’s more info at the WritersStorm.com site here.
Keep writing!
Throughline & 2nd Act Sag
July 24, 2008
Most troubles in an ailing story can be traced back to a little something called the throughline*. Throughline is the motor in your story’s boat. It’s the single, pervasive concept that not only guides every event and action but also the one thing to which everything must directly relate.
A tall order? You betcha.
So what is it? Throughline is the answer to the question, “What does my protagonist want?” or if the hero is not conscious of their desires, “What does my protagonist need?” The answer may not be apparent on a first pass if you’re the writer (nor is it expected to be) but, at some point, writers and their story consultants need to hunker down and tease it out.
Read on
The Atlantic Fiction Issue 2008
July 20, 2008
The Atlantic’s single-issue, annual fiction compendium is a must-read for those still able to do so.
Fiction, poetry, and essays by Wendell Berry, Ann Patchett, Aryn Kyle, Linda Bierds, and more.
The Atlantic’s Fiction Issue 2008
Suspension of Disbelief
July 19, 2008
You know that curmudgeon. Endlessly picking up clues and slotting them into some ancient, predetermined framework. A few pieces are allowed to poke out here and there but let one raise its ugly head too far and look out! Your whole waking dream is shattered. And bitterly so.
…you can only suffer so many shots below the waterline before the ship starts to sink. If the audience’s illusion of intention is repeatedly or grossly challenged by logic problems, they will revolt.
Thanks Craig. I thought I was the only one who just couldn’t get by the “magnetic thing” in Indiana Jones and the Kingdom of the Crystal Skull.
By the way, if your story consultant isn’t a “Logic Nazi” then you’re in deep trouble. I’m just sayin’.
The Logic Nazi at The Artful Writer