Neither Ally nor Enemy but Something Else Entirely
Alice in Wonderland ~ “The different branches of Arithmetic: Ambition, Distraction, Uglification, and Derision.”
Herald. Idol. Blocking Figure. Trickster.
Those characters certainly fit Alice’s different branches of Arithmetic, don’t they?
These four are categorized with the Tests, Allies, and Enemies (Stage 6 for the Archetypal Story Pattern). However, they don’t really fit the classification of ally or friend. They are neither. Perhaps they are something else entirely.
Let’s call them “Stumbling Blocks”.
Neither Yet More
In the first of the Allies and Enemies post (August 10), we discussed three types of allies. Threshold guardians present tests. Classic alliesbuttress the protagonist. Foils foreshadow what will happen if the protagonist doesn’t learn the lessons of the tests.
We also mentioned that the Love Interest should not be an objectified reward or elixir, but should enact one of the 10 roles of the allies/enemies.
The four characters in this blog are stumbling blocks for the protagonist.
Herald = Ambition = the goal to be achieved.
An announcer of information, the herald seems a brief, walk-on character important only for that information.
How can the herald be a stumbling block?
Many writers use the herald to inject humor and quirkiness or edginess and doom into their stories. The herald can be a casualty of random evil or of the antagonist’s directed evil.
Understanding the herald’s message can form the test. The message often comes as a riddle. Riddles can misdirect or mislead the protagonist.
When the message is a simple truth, the protagonist can be tricked into ignoring it. Worse, s/he may overlook its significance.
IDOL = Uglification = the blingie wonder that turns the protagonist from reality to fantasy
The Idol may create a golden dream for the protagonist.
Realizing the Idol is merely human is a lesson for the protagonist. The idol’s “uglification” process may even descend to walking in mucky mire. And the protagonist will never have imagined the soil that begrimes the erstwhile Idol.
While the realization alone can be a sufficient test, it helps if the protagonist does not at first believe the idol’s begrimed state. Three reactions occur when idols fall:
When faced with the reality of the fantasy, people will deny the reality and cling to the fantasy.
Then they willfully blind themselves.
When they do accept the truth, they are dejected or become apathetic.
The Idol is a noun: person, place, thing, or idea.
Disappointment alone is not a strong test.
As a writer, tally up the multiple ways that people become disgusted with what they once held aloft. The following link gives 9 options for the uglification of the idol:
Blocking Figure = Distraction = the sidesteps that divert from the goal
Like the Herald, the Blocking Figure causes the protagonist to stumble on the heroic journey.
BFDs can take away what the protagonist expected to use. They can supply wrong information. They can literally stand in the way.
Block. Deflect. Divert.
Their intervention causes the protagonist to stumble, start again, go around, or plow through.
Trickster = Derision = laughter or ridicule, a balancing act
One of the most misunderstood characters is the Trickster.
The Trickster is more than a simple ally or enemy. This character is an archetype. I first discussed the Trickster in the “Last but not Least” blog of April 20: http://writersinkbooks.com/2017/04/
This archetype has two sides: Fool and Trickster.
The Fool makes mistakes and never learns.
The Trickster learns.
The Fool, like a court jester, plays to an audience. He doesn’t care about the audience’s derision. All he wants is laughter. His actions are actually reactions, a cyclical feeding off the audience.
The Trickster acts. He thinks of a thing to do. Next, he half-anticipates the result (usally, only the best result). Then he does the thing. The consequences are not his concern. He does care about derision. That derision is the very reason he begins to change.
A protagonist can start as a trickster, as Odysseus did. The trickster who never cares about the consequences to others cannot be a true protagonist.
Sept. 10 will focus on the Enemies of Stage 6: Tests, Allies, and Enemies.
Enemies oppose the protagonist. Does that make them evil?
A definition encloses a wilderness of idea within a wall of words. ~ Samuel Butler
Dialogue with the protagonist and two allies as they prepare for the enemy (from 13th Warrior) :
Skeld the Superstitious (after Ibn shows off his new scimitar, whittled down from a Viking broadsword). With a shrug, “He insisted.”
Weath the Musician: Give an Arab a sword; he makes a knife.”
Ibn cuts through a defensive pole in one blow. “It works.” Then he tosses the scimitar in the air, whirls it around, and finishes by holding the blade to Weath’s neck.
Weath: “When you die, can I give that to me daughter?”
The Allies and Enemies of the crucial Tests are the three-legged Stage 6 of the Archetypal Story Pattern, the Hero’s Journey.
Enemies give the protagonist the tests that are necessary to prepare for the Ordeal. They seem all important (and they are). Yet in focusing on the enemies, writers might neglect the equally-important allies.
Without the allies, the protagonists lack the bolstering support and information that are vital to continuing the Hero’s Journey. Allies should not be stock figures, moved around the chessboard by the writer. Allies—and enemies—are full-fledged characters who play out certain roles that control their actions and reactions.
And the best reactions contain humor.
Three Examples from One Film
13th Warrior was generally panned when it came out. I encountered it years later. The film, based on Michael Crichton’s novel Eaters of the Dead, has flaws. It didn’t help that two different directors jerked the film around before it was finally released.
Nor did the critics help. I remember reading one review where the critic blasted the scene where the protagonist Ibn miraculously learns the Norse language. Here’s the problem: first, that’s three separate scenes, clearly denoted by a non-rainy campfire scene, a heavy downpour during a campfire scene, and then another non-rainy campfire scene. Obviously, Passage of Time occurred, and the critic missed it.
My favorite character is the guardian / mentor / ally Herger the Joyous, so-called because he laughs as he kills the enemies.
When Ibn first meets the Vikings, Herger “greets” him and translates the Viking ways to Ibn and his adviser. Thus, he is guardian of the threshold to the Viking culture that Ibn must interact with.
Herger is not only a mentor/philosopher who warns his ally, but he also stands as Ibn’s shield-friend. ~
Finally, he teaches Ibn the importance of deception when facing an enemy, any enemy, a lesson that translates to the great enemies the Wendol. ~
10 Forms for Allies and Enemies
In broad strokes, Allies and Enemies basically have 10 roles that determine their behavioral responses to the protagonist. Herger the Joyous hits three of those roles.
Allies and Enemies will test the protagonists. They will reveal the steel in their backbones. Most importantly, they will shield them whenever possible on the approach to the great trial that is Stage 8, the darkest story moment, the Ordeal.
The 10 roles of Allies and Enemies are ~
A special ally/enemy is the Love Interest.
Allies and enemies may continue with the protagonist to and through the Ordeal. Writers can kill them off at will—and often do, to the shock and horror of the audience. (Which often provides an author with an annual apology on the anniversary of a great battle. J.K. Rowling, anyone?)
Allies who reach the last stage should celebrate, drinking the elixir of the gods with the protagonist.
And they might achieve status as protagonist in the sequel.
1. Threshold Guardian
The Threshold Guardian can be at the test gate, before it, or after it. The guardian should represent the threat that is to come.
In 13th W, the evil the Vikings are being called upon to defeat cannot be named, or as Herger says, “The name cannot be said” (first film clip). Some evil is too horrible to be spoken aloud or to be seen clearly. This is a time-honored trope, originating with Vergil’s Aeneid, when the sibyl blocks Aeneas’ eyes so he cannot see punishments in Hades.
Guardians may determine a level of knowledge or of skill. To pass them, wits with the lessons have to be used, even to the airspeed velocity of a sparrow.
Resisting the guardian’s test (as King Arthur does) is as active as assaulting it. ⇒ Never forget: a negative can be as strong as a positive.
In a love story, not giving in to a prior temptation is as powerful as pursuing a need that the chosen other provides.
For a mystery, refusing to follow the easy path of blame is as assertive as finding an important clue.
In the action-adventure genre (including science fiction & fantasy), turning off the immediate reaction can be as frustrating as traveling down the maze into a dead-end corridor.
Whether the threat is external or internal, the guardian prevents crossing the threshold until the protagonist meets certain conditions: the test is then met and overcome. The guardian’s test, while intense, is still minor. It will not have the angst that the Destruction of the Dear (Call2Adventure) or the upcoming Ordeal must have.
Close support for the protagonist, the ally works like a flying buttress, independent of the main building yet reinforcing roof and walls.
Working the metaphor of the flying buttress, the roof represents the protagonist’s decisions. The walls = how he armors himself against the world. Some armor is effective; some, bulky and out-of-date. An ally would point this out.
The ally, as a flying buttress, is attached to the main building but stands separate, distinct. He not only supports the protagonist but adds “grace”, improving the protagonist.
The ally performs one of the three team roles:
follower / fulfiller,
advocate / questioner,
and unifier / resolver.
The team roles give direction for your ally’s behaviorial responses as the protagonist passes the various tests.
The protagonist doesn’t need to have three characters surrounding him in these team roles: one character can play all three: questioning a decision, then pushing to resolve a conflict, and fulfilling his part during (or before or after) the test.
A mirror to the protagonist, the foil will have one or more of the protagonist’s distinguishing traits.
That similarity creates a reflection: a mirrored character trait, a mirrored disposition, a mirrored flaw, a mirrored story path. The foil’s path should run ahead or alongside the protagonist’s.
The foil is intended to foreshadow. If the lessons of the tests are not learned, then the protagonist will follow the fate of the foil
In Fellowship of the Ring, Boromir refuses to accept that the ring is not for him and must be destroyed; Aragorn accepted and fought temptation.
In Pride and Prejudice, Catherine Bingley does not learn that Darcy is more than wealth and rank.
In Ironman, Stane glories in the power of his robotic suit; Tony learns to appreciate but not celebrate its power.
The Power of Love
The Love Interest is sometimes set out as a separate entity in the list of allies and enemies. S/he’s not. The LI actually performs one of those 10 roles.
Often, the LI is a supporting Ally or betraying Shapeshifter, a stubborn Blocking Figure or a simply-there Herald.
Writers who carefully consider the LI’s role will drastically improve their stories. No character should be a simple cameo—there to admire. To reduce the LI to mere statue is demeaning to the protagonist for being in love with such a static and simple person. Nor should the LI be only a simply-there herald, imparting valuable information.
And to reduce the LI to a treasure to be enjoyed as a reward or “consumed” as an Elixir (two later stages in the Hero’s Journey) is to objectify that character as no more than a blow-up doll.
If that’s what you want, go for it.
Yet hopefully, the LI in your personal life is more than that. The LI should take an active role with the protagonist.
Develop the LI, even if s/he is on stage only briefly. Explore goals, motivations, and conflicts to determine backstory and directional purpose. Consider her/his relationship to the antagonistic force that drives the protagonist through the story.
Please, please, please have the LI as much more than a stock figure. All the details won’t make it into the story proper, but enough should so that the LI is much more than a walk-on.
If the LI is the Dear to be destroyed, s/he definitely must be completely realized.
Sow the wind of the LI as an Ally or Enemy, and reap the whirlwind of the LI’s effect on the emotional development of the protagonist.
Herald. Idol. Blocking Figure. Trickster. We’ll unwrap these four boxes in our next blog, August 20. Join us.
Tests determine what we know and don’t know and how well we are surviving a course.
90% level: we’re great.
75%: hanging in there.
60%: barely getting by.
35%: Are we even trying?
Some students naturally excel, and don’t those of us who are struggling envy them? Some students are distracted or unprepared. Others seem blithe and carefree to hide their angst.
Our tests in life are more intangible than 50 questions covering Rationalism. Are we working well enough, creatively enough to earn that pay raise or promotion? Have we met the clients’ expectations? Did we play a hand in the healing?
We face trials with family and friendships, with finances and life spaces. We face trials in the daily grind and the major passages of life. And we face tribulations that scare us and scar us, that drive us to our knees and measure the mettle of our backbone.
Read that last sentence again.
We face tribulations that scare us
and scar us,
that drive us to our knees
and measure the mettle
of our backbone.
This sentence is the directive for our writing.
“But I don’t want to go among mad people,” said Alice.
“Oh, you can’t help that,” said the cat. “We’re all mad here.”
~ Lewis Carroll
In the 12 stages of the Archetypal Story Pattern (ASP), we must remember that each stage is not a single scene with its seque to the next stage.
The Tests Stage is the clearest example of this.
The very name of the stage clues us in that we are dealing with a plural. In the Tests, we “measure the mettle” of our protagonists as they encounter allies and enemies (the focus of our next blogs).
The greatest Tests in the ASP will not occur in this stage. The Ordeal (Stage 8) is intended to be the moment of greatest difficulty for the protagonists. Two remaining stages present the last, crucial challenges (10 and 11).
What, then, is the purpose of these Tests? Training? More sacrifices? Or something even greater?
Initiation and Transformation
Tests, Allies, and Enemies falls as the 6th ASP Stage, 3rd of the Initiation and Transformation segment.
The Destruction of the Dear at the Call to Adventure propels the protagonist into the journey. However, change does not occur at that point.
Change only occurs when people accept that they must adapt to a difference. The protagonists enter the difference when they meet the mentor.
The Threshold Crossing causes the first adaptation by preventing an easy return to the Ordinary World. From that stage onward, protagonists are on a journey they actively pursue and will not retreat from.
Thresholds are Tests
What are the tests? How do the protagonists overcome them? Why are they placed in the protagonists’ way?
Each test has three parts.
The Threshold into the Test
The Encounter with the Threshold Guardian
Acknowledgement of the Lesson(s) of the Test
The Threshold is the Testing Gate, not a mere event to be overcome. Each threshold should build suspense.
Now, I’m going to say something obvious. Each testing gate has a path to it and from it. Don’t skip over that. We often skim the obvious and move on, not realizing its importance. Our protagonists should not bounce from event to event. Create a lead-up with its blindness or stress, the event, and a leaving with its new sight or relief.
The Lessons of the Test
Coming after the defeat of the guardian and before the next test’s gate appears is the protagonists’ acknowledgement of the test’s lesson.
When our protagonists reel from one event to the next, we remove the audience’s emotional connection to them.
The protagonist can refuse to acknowledge any lesson—which is itself a test to be overcome.
Without acknowledgement of a lesson, the protagonist remains static. Protagonists should be dynamic—unless you are writing post-modern absurdism.
We can have our protagonists acknowledge that the path requires too much sacrifice and try to abandon the journey. However, the journey should and will pull them back. They can question and re-think approaches to their journey.
Look at what they have sacrificed, at their accumulating scars. Is the journey worth it? Is an easier path available? Will the easier path lead to an equivalent or greater treasure at the end?
Yes. No. No. These MUST be the answer to those three questions.
Our protagonists may not achieve their short-term goals without connections with allies and enemies, both secret and obvious.
How Many Tests?
Each lesson leads to knowledge necessary to overcome the Ordeal.
And this is the reason that writing is a recursive process.
We may set up all the tests that we think are necessary only to reach the Ordeal and realize additional knowledge is necessary. Will that knowledge come from the mentor—to be followed or not—or from the tests with their lessons?
Or we may reach the Ordeal and realize some of our tests are superfluous.
Add or cut, as necessary.
Every scene in a story must have a purpose. Every test must have a purpose. Like puzzle pieces, tests should foreshadow the Ordeal.
In Tolkien’s Fellowship of the Ring, the great battle against the orcs and goblins in the Mines of Moria foreshadows the huge battle of the Pelennor Fields at the foundations of Minas Tirith near the end of The Return of the King.
The lessons Aren learns from the Hob about taking pieces of power from the various magical creatures helps her to understand how to defeat the corrupt mage at the end of Patricia Briggs’ The Hob’s Bargain.
Understanding that love is more enduring and powerful than station or wealth helps Darcy decide to cleave to Elizabeth, no matter his feelings about her family in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice.
Tests link the several stages of the ASP. They can hark back to the Call2Adventure, the Refusal of the Call, and Crossing the 1st Threshold. They are part of the run-up to the all-powerful Ordeal, yet they also touch fingers to the Road Back and the Resurrection of the Evil.
10 types of Allies and Enemies fill the arenas of the Tests.
Kick back in August as we explore all 10 of the Allies. It will be September 10 for the Enemies.
Second Stage of Story is the Call to Adventure, our C2A. In this Stage, we writers get to be cruel. We are going to sacrifice, as mercilessly as possible, the cherished thing.
We are going to Destroy the Dear that the protagonist clings to.
That Dear can be a person, place, thing, object, or idea.
Starting the Story
For the destruction, we already know who and what, by whose aid, why and how, and when and where. We mapped this information before we wrote the Ordinary World (OW).
Now all we need to do is write it, right?
We do have the bulk of our work done. A couple of other considerations still dangle before us.
1st Look at the C2A
The protagonist is reactive in the C2A. The contented existence of the OW is being destroyed in the C2A. The protagonist has no control in this stage.
We can increase the angst for our primary characters when we give the protagonist a small measure of control then take it away.
The angst increases when that tiny ounce of control is protecting the dear thing. If the protagonist protected the dear, thought it was safe while s/he went to protect some other thing (or went to confront the antagonist), and then we writers destroy the dear, the angst triples in shock value.
No one likes to lose control. Most people’s difficulties with flying arise from that loss of control. We can control nothing on an airplane: not boarding, not seating, not stowing our carry-ons, not our checked baggage, not encounters with our fellow travelers, not the AC or the heat, not the filtering of the air, not the cleanliness of our seats or blankets or dining tray, not take off, and not landing. And certainly not debarking.
The protagonist’s loss of control could be emotional. It has more impact on the audience when s/he avoids hysterics and only loses physical control (environment, safety) or intellectual ability to choose, ability to act, and ability to concentrate.
2nd of the C2A
Consider Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs.
On which of the five levels does the protagonist land while in the OW Stage? Most of us operate at Esteem or Love. These are most important. Few people ever achieve Altruism (self-actualization).
When we destroy the dear, the protagonist will drop down to a lower rung.
Let’s Take Taken.
Taken presents a near-perfect C2A.
For the OW, the protagonist is with his daughter, his cherished dear.
We see his relationship with her, an atypical view of a father not giving his daughter the best gift. We see his allies and his all-important “skill-set”, and we see how his attempt to control the safety of his daughter is undermined by his ex-wife.
While he manages to maintain a modicum of control, it is further undermined when he realizes his ex-wife and daughter have lied to him about the daughter’s trip: the daughter and her friend will be in multiple cities, not just one.
All this is Ordinary World.
In the C2A, the antagonist is already in motion. This Stage starts innocently enough with a phone call.
Then the true antagonists arrive. First we see the danger to the friend, reported by the daughter to the protagonist. He knows no secure place is available, so he directs his daughter to give him the evidence needed to track the abductors.
For a brief moment, we the audience are fooled that safety may occur. Then our willful—& wanting and praying—blindness is ripped away.
The protagonist’s negotiation with the abductor restores a semblance of control—but it is only a semblance. He is thousands of miles away. He has very little evidence to work with. As a final affront, the antagonist crushes the daughter’s cell phone under his heel.
From the Esteem level, our protagonist drops down to Safety Concerns for his daughter.
As the story rolls, he does drop further to Survival, briefly. By the end, he is back to Intrinsic Esteem. The transformation needed was not his but his daughter’s and his ex-wife’s, to value what they had previously despised.
The Destruction of his Dear is never achieved (although we see several mirrors of it). It does come so close that the audience’s adrenaline shoots up and never really drops down until the very end.
Three More Takes on Dear Destruction
Dean Koontz does the same thing in his 2005 Velocity, pitting a young woman against a twisted serial killer. Once the C2A occurs, the reader is on a plummeting ride.
Our protagonist holds her friend’s life dear. When she realizes the friend’s family is dead, she braves herself to climb into the killer’s RV to save her friend. Unfortunately, her own safety is destroyed when she is trapped.
The action-adventure genre provides the clearest reading of the 12 Stages of the Hero’s
Journey. However, virtually every story follows this archetypal structure.
In Jane Austen’s Persuasion, the dear was sacrificed long before the start of the story. It is the return of the dear that presents the C2A, as well as the obstacle that will have the re-acquisition of the dear become nearly impossible.
The loss of Captain (Lt.) Frederick Wentworth left Anne Elliott shattered. She has rebuilt the semblance of an existence (for she is not living). When she re-encounters Frederick, she must clutch a chair to stay upright. Her unexpressed pain is so great even her self-absorbed sister notices Anne’s pallor before her egocentrism re-centers itself.
Shakespeare’s Macbeth holds the kingship as the dear thing. To achieve it, Macbeth must sacrifice his honor and accept kin-killing and king-killing, all in Act I. Here is something he has always wanted. Macbeth is a better warrior than his cousin. He knows that he has the respect of other thanes and fighters. He saved the battle for his cousin the king. Only a sequence of birth prevented the crown from coming to him.
Act II concerns his refusal of the C2A. We learn the importance of Lady Macbeth in pushing her husband to commit murder. We see her control over his physical and emotional desires. And we see the commission of three murders, one of them “perfect”, for without Macbeth’s continued evil in Act III, no one would have had any suspicion that he had killed his cousin the king who was staying as a guest in his house.
Reap the Rewards of Destruction
We writers need to set up the emotional connection of the protagonist to the Dear in the OW. In the C2A, we must remove the protagonist’s control and have her/him too shocked to do more than react.
Then we must hurt our darlings. Never hesitate to the Destroy the Dear.
Our readers will thank us.
Join us for the next Stage of the Hero’s Journey on the 10th of June. On the 1st of each month, Writers Ink will have a promotion for a book by one of a W.INK writers.
Every man has three characters: that which he exhibits, that which he has, and that which he thinks he has. ~ Alphonse Kerr
We start life as a tabula rasa. Then we transform ourselves as we mature.
Who we are . . .
is not who we want to be . . .
and not who we should be.
All of us struggle with a duality, positive in conflict with negativity and only rarely in balance. While we strive to improve, we are also tugged to wallow in a morass.
In the ancient monomyth, the Hero’s Journey did not just exhibit how an ordinary person became extraordinary. It also developed how a shallow community member became a strong individual, a leader who inspired others to change.
The first stage of the Hero’s Journey—the Ordinary World—presents who we are before the transforming journey occurs.
Start with Duality
Bilbo Baggins in The Hobbit (my favorite Tolkien) is complacent, self-absorbed, content
but certainly not satisfied. He must be pushed and tempted into the journey There and Back Again. This trailer shows the strength of a well-written Ordinary World and Call to Adventure.
Frodo in Lord of the Rings certainly feels his dissatisfaction, but he lacks both the impetus and will to take the first brave steps alone. Thus, we have the necessity of his friends at the onset of the journey, each who have their own individual transformation to come.
A character’s dual nature can be two sides of the personality, can be two sides of the genetic inheritance (as it is for Bilbo), or can be two of the Tripartite Being in conflict.
Take care when presenting the primary characters during the Ordinary World. The primaries should not become so arrogant that the audience can’t stand them. Any bad trait should be counterbalanced with a good trait.
The Ordinary World (OW) stage of the Hero’s Journey—however brief—is necessary to show the unchanged primaries. Obviously, the protagonist is necessary to introduce. Presentation of the other primaries is necessary only if their transformation is key to the protagonist’s.
In The Hobbit film, Thorin Oakenshield’s OWie is presented in flashback, a story recounted in heroic fashion to Bilbo.
The problem with flashback and the reason it is kept for limited use are that it disrupts the story flow. In film, this disruption traps the audience—unless we control the remote and skip ahead. In a book we can skip it or skim it—although we rarely do. Flashback used to present OW information becomes info dump, which is always to be avoided.
How do we write an Ordinary World start to our story without turning it into info dump?
Marion Zimmer Bradley said often to start a story at the first onset of trouble.
However, we need a bit to set up how that onset came in as trouble.
So, find the moment right before the onset of trouble.
1st Story Stage: the Ordinary World
Build the OW with the Latin 7.
WHO is here?
The protagonist, of course. The actual question should be who else is here? Any primaries? Are these primaries allies? How will the antagonist enter this scene? Who else do we need?
WHAT is the sacrifice?
The What can be person, thing, object, place, and idea.
What thing needs destruction in order to start the protagonist on the journey? How is that thing cherished by the protagonist?
The destruction, which is the 2nd Story Stage, is an explosion, literal and figurative. Our job in the OW is to start rolling toward that destruction.
For example, if the destruction is the revelation of a lie, what dream will the lie destroy? That dream becomes the protagonist’s OW focus.
The cherished thing to be sacrificed should be so strong that the antagonist can’t just turn away.
WHY is the cherished thing so dear?
Know the reason. We may not write the reason into the 1st Stage. We should certainly state it by the end of the 3rd Stage. Yet we need to know it now, as we start.
HOW will the sacrifice occur?
Writers also need an early knowledge of the How, for we must set up for it.
BY WHOSE AID?
This is a two-sided question.
1st: The sacrifice needs to be important to the protagonist and another (one or more). This increases the need for the protagonist to embark on the difficult Hero’s Journey. Whether the genre is contemporary mainstream, historical romance, fantasy adventure, or another one, the destruction of the sacrifice should shock more than the protagonist.
2nd: The other side of “by whose aid” focuses on the participants in the destruction.
Know the reason that the antagonist is able to focus on the sacrifice. This may come out at any point in the story, especially if the antagonist has a moment to gloat over the destruction of the dear. The antagonist should also “know” the protagonist well enough to understand how the destruction will hurt the protagonist and other primaries.
Sidestep to a Side Character
A side element is the character who conveys information about the sacrifice to the antagonist. This character needs to be familiar with the protagonist: the degree of this side character’s perfidy is up to us writers. And the revelation of the perfidy—that is also up to us.
WHEN and WHERE
The last two of the Latin 7 seem simple.
WHEN is a moment when destruction is least expected. A moment of happiness is typical: wedding, family gathering, holiday celebration. Try to break the typical.
Pick an ordinary moment: driving home, going to a restaurant, Saturday errands.
WHERE should be a place of security for the protagonist. Then the sacrifice of the cherished thing becomes even greater, for security is sacrificed as well.
Just as with the WHEN, the destruction’s occurrence in an ordinary place destroys the semblance of security.
Start the Story
“Begin with the end in mind,” Stephen Covey said in his 7 Habits of Highly Effective People. As it works in business, so it works in story.
Writers should start by knowing where the story is going, so we can lay traps for our protagonists. And our first traps start in the Ordinary World.
Here are the 12 Stages of the Hero’s Journey. We are working our way through them, two stages per month. Join us for the next stage on the 20th of May ~~ and a promo for one of my books on the 1st.