Artists can paint. They may not be painting what they want to. They may hate what’s on the canvas. It’s boring and useless, they may think, drivel rather than art, gimmick rather than truth. By they can apply color to the canvas. That’s painting.
You may think you’re blocked, but you can compose a FB message or a tweet or an email. You can write a blog, even if in your mind it’s boring and useless, drivel rather than art, gimmick rather than truth.
Artists can re-paint. They can change perspective or techniques or even style. They can paint for fun or for anger, to share laughs or to anticipate burning, a ritual bonfire of the drivel. Every stroke of the brush moves them out of the stoppage they found themselves in.
The writers’ truth? We also survive gimmickry. We can re-write. Those boring, useless, driveling words? We can apply a new viewpoint or setting or changed outcome. We can toss off a quick note or pen a diatribe, share it for laughs or get the fire out of our blood, a burning of what angers us and never needs to enter the sunshine. Every keystroke on the laptop moves us out of the stoppage we find ourselves in.
Here it is: the squeezed-in blog on the Antagonist, from Aristotle’s Essential Characters (with funky names) to our modern take on those pesky evil-doers we love to hate.
Any antagonist—the primary conflict-creator—should seek a goal that is mirrored to the protagonist.
For writers, this is reflecting the protagonist’s goal.
The conflict between the protagonist and the antagonist may occur over the same treasure, the same career advancement, or the same approbation from the community. The antagonist may want the destruction of what the protagonist is trying to create. S/he will twist any concept that the protagonist developed to improve the world.