Indecisive
I look at my clock as it ticks over to 3:11 AM, yet still my mind is racing, unable to rest, unable to stop. The wheels are turning, spinning, twisting, and grinding, unable to complete their rotation without hitting a snag, and shredding my thoughts into pieces. I glare, wander, click and tap, unable to find a suitable direction at which to aim my furious consternation.
It’s as if my purpose refuses to remain steady, with the moorings that once held it in place in sudden disarray. My thoughts taunt me, goading me into action, and yet giving me no path to walk. I am before the Cheshire Cat, with the self-same reasoning as Alice in her Wonderland. I know there is somewhere that I need to go, but I am very unsure of where it is, and how to get there. So, I doom myself to begin walking in some direction, realizing as I take my ninth step that it is, in fact, the wrong direction.
Is this a common occurrence? Does every man sail through the same seas of confusion? Or am I alone on the ocean, adrift with no compass, with no wind and no motor?
If only there was a method of determining my course. Even a path that might eventually detail my desires in such a way as to make them known to me. Such would save me an eternity of grief at having chosen the wrong course. Because to me, there isn’t much worse in my own life than setting down a path toward a goal and realizing five years down the road that that goal was actually not fit for me.
I suppose that each of us is on some path to happiness. We may call it by other names, be it wealth, status, or stability, but in the grand scheme of things each of us is searching for that something that we can be contented by. So many people seem to have a passion for their goals, a fire that burns within them, driving them to achieve the grand heights that they have undertaken to accomplish. Nothing, it seems, can stop them. They are the climbers of their individual Everests, and they refuse to be dissuaded by simple trivialities or obstacles.
I once had a driving force within me. I was determined to complete my schooling, and so I pushed myself as hard as I could until that job was complete.
Yet now, as I am in possession of the fruit of my labors, I find myself in an odd predicament. Instead of being ecstatic, I feel lost, unable to determine for myself the course that my life should take. I have been exhorted to chart my own course, to reach out and grasp my future, but despite the bumper sticker catchphrases, I remain unfulfilled.
Could it be that life has simply lost interest in me? Was my purpose simply to come to this point and then fade into obscurity? Or is there something else that I am meant to accomplish?
Answers… I don’t write searching for answers, necessarily, but one or two would be nice. I’m not looking for everything, only a direction. If my destination is not to be determined for quite some time, so be it. But were I to have a path, a sure path that agrees with my personality, then I could begin my journey anew.
Until then, I’m afraid, my wheels are continually turning, spinning, twisting, and griding, unable to complete their rotation. My motor is, in fact, running, it simply is providing no power to move me along.
Instead, I am looking for a destination.
- BK
Perspective
Well, the site may look a little different, but that’s just because it is. I’ve decided that I needed to bring this thing in line with the portfolio idea that I’ve been planning to create for months, and so I just started working on it. The past couple of weeks have let me figure out at least some of what I want to do.
Interestingly enough, I think the most profound thing about looking through some of my previous projects is the strange diversity between them. I’ve done a lot of different things for a lot of different people, and it’s strange the stories that arose from each and every experience. It’s not so much the end result, I guess, but more the ride that sticks with you – Or at least that’s what I’m coming to understand.
I’ve had the privilege to work with a lot of really amazing, wonderful people over the past few years. I’ve met some great friends, had plenty of excellent experiences, both great and not-so-great. I look back through my memories and really just have to smile at all the crazy adventures. Life really tosses some curveballs at you, I guess. It’s just about knowing how to swing. (Man, I’m sounding really metaphorical today.)
I don’t really have anything huge or mind-blowing to share today. I just wanted to note down that the site may look a little different, but that I’m still the same old me, just writing my stuff as I see it. Expect to hear more from me soon.
- BK
the blue-blade warrior – prologue
It’s like watching a hero’s rebirth.
The phrase “the sleep of the dead” held a completely different meaning when gazing upon a man who truly embodied it. Vujo had been looking in on him daily, checking the grotesque progress of the Wake-Up Room as the man’s shattered body was healed by the magic of its shining surfaces. While many of the other Summits couldn’t bear to look upon the process, Vujo herself was utterly fascinated, brushing back one of her wings, and combing through its scales to remove any watery hitchhikers.
Her eyes were drawn through the translucent ball, the chamber that encased the man, which allowed light in, but no light out, as the slow healing process continued. The bones and sinews, the organs and skin, the tendons and ligaments, the veins and nerves, each woven together so beautifully that the gods deserved to be proud, having shaped life into such a seamless, living shape of a man, a living being. And she herself could be proud for having resurrected this being from an early grave.
Her conscience was pricked with a twinge of guilt. She wondered if perhaps Proteus had been wrong. Perhaps they shouldn’t be meddling with the threads of death and life. Was this magic the use of White Magic? Or Black? She folded her wing back and started on the next, seated a short distance away, upon a coral bench, seated next to a glittering silver vase. The body within the sphere was suspended in the center, the bluish glow still present around it as the magics of Proteus continued their work.
As she watched the final bones of the legs and feet assemble and reconstruct themselves, her thoughts turned to Proteus himself. The Summit King had been very welcoming of the visitors that Vujo had brought into the Kingdom, despite his personal misgivings about allowing strangers into the Summit’s hidden realm. But honestly, thought Vujo, what choice did he have? I’m his daughter, for goodness sake.
There had been five who entered the water that fateful afternoon nearly two months ago, and there had been four who left. Vujo herself wondered about companions who had no qualms about leaving their friend behind, but considering that Proteus had insisted that they not wait, perhaps they simply trusted the king at his word.
A trait I’m sure he wishes extended to his children, Vujo mused silently.
Laying alongside the walls of the Wake-Up Room’s circular outer chamber was a number of coral shelves, having been carved out by the Summit building crews. Vujo stood, and walked around the chamber, looking into the shelves at their contents. They were populated with numerous items, most of them weapons, which belonged to the man in the sphere.
Two knives, a length of rope, a worn leather belt with pouches, several coins, a bow, a shield, a pair of thin sticks, as well as numerous other items that Vujo didn’t recognize stocked the shelves. She wondered about a man who could carry so many things with him at all times. What might possess a person to carry so much with him? Why burden yourself with so many unnecessary items? The one item which truly drew her attention, however, was one that didn’t fit upon a shelf, and so had been placed on a table at the far end of the room.
It was a sword, which was enclosed in a long brown leather sheath. The weapon was almost as tall as Vujo herself, with an intricately etched handle and the symbol of a snowflake at the bottom. She began to pull it from its sheath, noticing the crystal-clear blade that looked to be made of glass. She continued to remove the weapon’s cover, finding the crystal blade fascinating…
“How is he progressing?” She slid the blade quickly back into its sheath, and replaced it on its table. It was Proteus, stepping his way into the Wake-Up Room Chamber. He wore a simple, flowing robe, which reflected its purple scales across the sphere in the center. His once-sharp, Summit features had been replaced by sagging, his age betraying him in his late years. The only feature that seemed to stand out were his eyes, still burning with fire and life the same as he might have been in his youth.
“His bones are completely healed, father,” she said, turning away from the weapon and gazing back at the glowing sphere. “I would say he should be completely ready for the Infusion in two weeks’ time.”
Proteus walked slowly over to the sphere, and placed a hand upon it. The sphere glowed slightly brighter for a moment, especially around the point where the Summit King’s hand was resting, but then it dissipated. He let go, but continued to gaze at the healing body. He spoke without turning.
“You’re wondering if I’m doing the right thing?” he said aloud, more as a statement, than a question.
Vujo’s response was cautious as she approached her father’s side. “I’m not meaning to disagree with your decision, father, it’s just that…”
“Yes?”
“Well, it seemed almost as if you may have been acting out of character when you promised those other humans that you would rebirth their companion.”
“Is it now out of character to help a friend in need?”
She scoffed slightly. “You know what I’m talking about,” she contended. “This man is not like us, and though I may have made a mistake in bringing them down here, I do not intend for that decision to cause us more trouble than it already has.”
The King turned, and looked at his daughter. “You’re worried that Serpon may return.”
“Well…” She paused. “Yes.”
Proteus walked over to the coral benches that Vujo had been sitting on earlier, and motioned for her to sit with him. “Serpon is gone,” said the King. “She was repelled by the Summit Kingdom with the most powerful magical abilities in the western oceans. She’s not coming back.”
“But if we’re so powerful,” said Vujo. “Then why did she attack in the first place?”
“Element of surprise, my daughter. Element of surprise.” He indicated the sphere. “She was looking to take the soul of this man, a task which proved much more difficult than she had anticipated. She was expecting only a small struggle, but what she found was a massive, epic united front. We were too much for her, and now that she’s attacked, we know where the weaknesses in our defenses lie. I have Rourke and the rest of the mystic guard working diligently as we speak. They’ve already made significant progress in addressing the holes in our current defenses, and we can expect little threat from even Demigods as long as those defenses remain in place.”
Vujo still disagreed. “But father, then why are we spending such effort in reviving this man? Why not allow Dribrow to judge his soul and allow him passage to the afterlife?”
“Because his end was unjust, my princess,” said Proteus. “His death was the result of the use of dark arts. Were we to let him die while we have the means to save him, his blood would be upon our hands.”
Vujo sighed, and looked over at the body which still floated, glowing in the center of the shining sphere.
“Besides,” said Proteus, taking the young summits hand in his. “This man may yet prove to be more crucial to our survival than we know.”
“You’re getting senile in your old age, father. I think you’re looking for a miracle where there only lies a parlor trick.”
Proteus stood, and walked over to the sword which Vujo had been playing with earlier. He removed it from its sheath, and held it in his hand. The crystal blade was clear as ice, yet sharper than any weapon that Vujo had ever seen. The King turned the weapon over, and indicated the symbol at he base of the handle.
“This symbol,” he said. “Is the symbol of the goddess of winter, Wyntei. The gods are very jealous about their emblems, and do not allow themselves to be associated with items that they are not a part of. The fact that this symbol remains means that the power of Wyntei resides within this weapon.”
He stepped over to one of the coral shelves, and picked up a pendant on a chain – a silver necklace. The same symbol on the sword was emblazoned upon the pendant. Proteus held both the sword and pendant out to Vujo.
“I do not know who this man is,” he said. “And beyond his name, I have no idea of his identity, but the fact that a goddess is with him is enough reason for me to help his journey along. Very few humans are able to utilize the Wake-Up Room, and yet the magic seems to flow through him just like the water. This man is unique, and I wish to know why.”
Vujo stepped over to the sphere, and gazed at the human man inside. His body was still broken, but even as he lay motionless, with half of his body gone, the bluish glow seemed to radiate power from him. It was as if the magic were coursing out of him, and not into him. She reached a hand up, and touched the sphere.
Instantly a powerful shock rushed into her body, energy unleashing into her frame. It was like being struck by a bolt of lightning in a summer storm. She jerked her hand back, and looked at it, but the feeling of power was subsiding. Had it only been in her imagination? Was that real?
“There is something to this person, my daughter,” said Proteus, placing the sword and the pendant back onto the table. “I do not know what it is, but it is the reason that I am working to save his soul.”
“You said you knew his name,” said Vujo. Her eyes were now transfixed upon the sphere. “What is it?”
He responded slowly, but simply. Though the name meant little to Vujo now, she had no idea what it would one day mean to her people.
“His name is Kyle Brogan.”
block breaking
Though I keep checking back in on my blog almost daily, I seem to have the hardest time actually putting things up right now. I look back at old posts, and I learn a lot about my own tendencies and personalities. I realize that I’m critical, but hopeful. I’m brash, but curious. I’m service-oriented, but very self-righteous. And despite all the good in the world, I often seem to drive straight for the bad, and describe it in vivid detail so there can be no mistake of what my negative feelings are towards something.
It’s a conundrum that has been bothering me lately, and I think that it’s linked to my difficulty to write. Though I want to put down a post, each thing that I think of seems so negative, or not professional enough, or not exactly coherent. And then if I try to write, I start putting doubts into my own head, and I feel like no one’s really reading what I’m saying.
“And why should they?” I ask myself. ”It’s not like you’re putting up anything of real substance.”
Then I pause. I think. What is it that people want to read, then? Why do they come here?
But in that haze of trying to think of something crowd-pleasing to write here, I’ve finally realized my real problem. The true reason for my strange and indescribable writer’s block that seems to limit my very ability to put a viable statement into words.
I’ve started worrying about what “they” think.
Long ago, I stopped worrying what “they” think, and it’s a defining trait that I’d taken to heart. But the trials that I’ve been going through the past few weeks have started to eat at me. They’ve started to introduce doubts into my mind. Thoughts of weakness, or maybe depression. Feelings of self-pity, or general worthlessness.
But wallowing in the depths wasn’t going to help me.
And while the words may not be all bright colors and sparkley letters, they’re mine. I can say what I like, and this is my space. If you are here to read about my thoughts, then you’re bound to read, and if you want to stop, I don’t much care anymore.
So I’m going to start posting again, and I don’t care what anyone really thinks about what I decide to put here. It might be advice. It might be fiction. Perhaps a review. Or it might be stupid poetry. My decision, no one else’s.
Here we go.
8-Part Story Structure: Eighth Sequence
Sequence 8: Riding Off Into the Sunset
So, the story has reached its end. Every little thing that should happen, has happened, and hopefully we’ve resolved all, or at least most, of the questions surrounding the particular tale that we’re telling. No, we don’t have to know every little detail about every single person that we’ve mentioned in the story, but the story should feel complete at this point.
So what’s the point of the eighth sequence, then?
The eighth sequence shows the protagonist(s) in a restful state, again in homeostasis, with no immediate, pressing concerns. The hero has survived the adventure, and so he has a chance to rest. Though it has definitely become a cliché, this is the time where the heroes ride off into the sunset, their current story done, headed off to seek a new journey. Usually it’s a time of peace, of contemplation, of catharsis, and often a little humor.
This is usually the shortest sequence in any film, (the half-hour ending of Lord of the Rings: Return of the King is a notable exception), and has the sole purpose of placing the protagonist into their new state of being. It shows the audience what the new “normal” is for the protagonist, but ends before a new journey starts. Often, though, there is the promise of more, but the audience is meant to feel that all is right again in the world.
Now, because the sequence is so short, I’ve decided that it would be more beneficial to, instead of detailing a single film, to briefly explain the eighth sequence of the seven films that we’ve explained throughout the other seven sequences, so that the blurred line between the seventh and eighth sequences may be made more clear. And just to reiterate this again, these are all very short, and obviously, contain the end of each movie.
Raiders of the Lost Ark – Indy is angry, on the steps of the Capitol Building, because the government authorities don’t want to listen to his pleas for the Ark’s study, yet Marion comforts him as they walk away. We then watch an inauspicious worker push the Ark of the Covenant into the bowels of an endless warehouse, seemingly leaving the mystical Ark to rot in storage for eternity. This ending leaves the audience feeling that now Indy and Marion are together, and that the journey of the Ark, (at least as far as Indy is concerned), is at an end. It also has the bonus of showing that, once again, Indy is going home empty-handed, which was how he started out the movie in the first place.
Paycheck – After all is said and done, Jennings, Rachel, and Shorty end up together in Rachel’s apartment, talking about the adventure. In the final twist, Jennings realizes that he would have known that Rachel would have kept her birds with her. The final piece of the puzzle fits when he reads, “If you only look where you can’t go, you might just miss the riches below.” He looks underneath the bottom of the birdcage, and pulls out a winning lottery ticket, eliminating their worry about their future. This shows that Jennings really had planned out everything, and though Shorty and the other two start playfully bickering about who gets what amount, there is no real worry, at least in the audience’s mind, that everything will work out all right for everyone involved. It would have been fine if there had been no lotto ticket, but it adds a final little grin for the audience as a final bookend.
Alladin – After Alladin wishes for the Genie’s freedom, and the Sultan allows Jasmine to choose her own suitor, the eighth sequence begins. The Genie makes a wide sweeping number of comic references, there’s a big “group hug”, and then Alladin and Jasmine fly off into the moonlight. (And then, the moon turns out to be the Genie, just as a last poke of humor.) Again, this is a testament to how short the eighth sequence really is. We are simply left to assume that everyone, (except for Jafar and Iago), are left to live happily ever after. The Genie is free, the “lovebirds” end up together, and all is well in the world.
Who Framed Roger Rabbit? – Soon after Eddie hands over the rope to Lt. Santino, the stain on his shirt reappears. Roger reveals that it was disappearing/reappearing ink. But it’s that clue that makes Eddie realize where Acme’s will has been all along, and Roger reads it aloud. As soon as the will is read, we begin sequence eight. The two couples, Eddie and Dolores, Roger and Jessica, both walk off into the unknown, with peace having been restored, and Eddie finally having allowed happiness back into his life. (As the Roger kiss illustrates.) The toons also have been saved, and so they celebrate. The effect is, again, very quick, and very simple. There’s really nothing left but a last little joke from Porky Pig as he exclaims, “That’s All, Folks!”
The Dark Knight – This one is a little tricky, but still recognizable. The eighth sequence begins when Batman says to Gordon, “I can do those things.” He willingly sacrifices himself yet again, to save Gotham, and to preserve Harvey’s reputation. At that point, the story of the Dark Knight is finished, and we get a small montage and Gordon’s ironic voice-over as Batman “rides off into the sunset.” Though the ending is not exactly “happy”, we understand that this is what must be done, and we understand what Batman’s mission from here on will entail. Batman’s new “normal” is established, and so the story ends.
While You Were Sleeping – This may be one of the shortest on the list, because it begins as soon as Lucy begins her ending voice-over. You watch as Lucy and Jack ride, (yet again), off into the distance, this time on the back of Lucy’s commuter train, with the sign “Just Married” above them. It’s a very iconic, happily ever after ending, and we see that Lucy is going to be just fine.
The Sixth Sense – This is a very interesting “split-eighth.” Because there are two very separate main characters, we have two sevenths, and two eighths. The first eighth involves Cole and his mother, as she finally is able to accept that Cole is not crazy, but instead is actually helping people, albeit dead ones. For Malcolm, the eighth sequence begins as we transfer attention to his old wedding video. Because he has, in essence, “released” his wife from care, we are offered hope at a new beginning for her, as represented by the beginning of the couple’s life together as recorded on tape.
As you can see, there are a number of different ways to accomplish the eighth sequence, and every film has its own quirks, all depending on the story involved. What is important to note, however, is that the eighth sequence doesn’t have to be long. It doesn’t have to be complicated. In fact, it’s very simple, and often involves just a few moments for the audience to be “at peace” with the story that they’ve just been told.
But a recommendation just from me – It’s the last thing that people are going to see, so I would do my best to make it memorable.
Summary
- Used to invoke catharsis, peace, understanding, and oft-times, humor at the end of the story.
- Often the shortest sequence of the film.
- Quite often involves some variation of “riding off into the sunset.”
8-Part Story Structure: Seventh Sequence
Sequence 7: You Live With the Consequences
If you were to imagine story structure as a mountain, and the protagonist as the climber who must conquer it, then the seventh sequence would be that part of the journey just after cresting the peak. The final climax has been brought to its end, and we often see a few moments of calm. The protagonist has conquered the antagonist, and the final choice has been made. The internal struggle, and the external one have, for the most part, been resolved. Now, we see what that choice has brought about.
Often times, the seventh and eighth sequences are some of the shortest, encompassing very little of a film’s viewing time. The purpose of the seventh sequence is simply to show what the consequences of that final action were, and then to tie up whatever loose ends may still be floating about. The sense of urgency that is present in the sixth sequence is virtually gone, replaced instead with an often distinct lack of tension. This is why the seventh sequence can often be encapsulated in a montage, or even a brief conversation.
The only exception comes during a “twist” ending, which is created when the writer reveals that, in the mist at the top of the mountain, there is, in fact, one more hill yet to climb. A twist ending’s structure is accomplished in a fashion similar to the fifth and sixth sequences, often mirroring the original storyline’s conflict, but in a different way.
The key to creating a successful twist is that this final part of the story must be necessary. It must be crucial to the story, to the point that, if it was missing, the audience would feel like there is definitely something else that should be there. Certain storytellers are masters of this type of the craft, and so we’ll look at the M. Night Shyamalan classic, The Sixth Sense.
In the film, we follow the story of child psychologist Malcom Crowe, whose life is altered drastically by an ex-patient who confronts the doctor, shooting Crowe in the stomach and then killing himself. Some time later, Crowe takes on the case of Cole Sear, a nine-year old boy who sees the spirits of dead people who are not aware that they are deceased. In this case, Crowe seeks redemption for his perceived “failure” with his ex-patient, and looks to help this boy with his malady.
As the story continues, however, Crowe slowly begins to believe the boy, spending more and more time with Cole in order to better understand this unbelievable phenomenon. The time spent away from his wife, however, seems to be putting a definite strain on their relationship, as is evidenced by the depressing, almost heartbreaking scenes where Malcolm eventually just leaves her alone.
But in spending time with the boy, Malcolm and Cole discover that there may, in fact, be a purpose for Cole to fulfill. Perhaps there is a reason that this boy can see the spirits of the dead. Each of the “dead people” that Cole is visited by seems to have some amount of unfinished business that needs to be resolved, culminating in a visit to the funeral reception of a young girl.
Though Cole and Malcolm definitely do not belong, Cole walks right into the late girl’s room. The girl appears, and offers Cole a box, in which the boy finds a videotape. He walks quietly into the main room, and hands the tape to the girl’s father. The man puts the tape on. The tape is from a hidden camera, which shows the dead girl’s mother pouring Pine Sol into the sick girl’s food, keeping her sick, and fatally poisoning her after too much exposure to the chemicals, which resolves the death of the girl, and allows her to move on.
Cole finally confesses the truth of the situation to his mother, convincing her with personal details about her relationship to her own mother, and allowing him to come to grips with his own lot in life. The boy then offers some advice to Malcolm, suggesting to the psychologist that he try speaking to his wife while she is asleep.
And now comes the twist: During this brief conversation, Malcolm finally realizes that he is, in fact, no longer living. The gunshot wound that his ex-patient had inflicted was unknowingly fatal, and it wasn’t Cole who sought out Malcolm, but instead it was the doctor who, unwittingly, sought out the child. Malcolm was finally able to rectify his failure to understand his ex-patient, which allows him to “move on.” He then speaks to his wife, expressing his love for her and releasing her to go on living her own life.
The key to this twist is that while everything is leading up to it, and all the pieces are in place for the audience to realize it, there is nothing blatant. In this case, the seventh sequence is only a few minutes long, encompassing just the reveal that Malcolm is no longer alive, and that he was another spirit that the boy helped to “move on.”
All the loose ends are tied up, and while there is still some things to ponder, the story itself is now complete. The seventh sequence is a tricky one to “nail down” in a story, simply because it, along with the eighth, are usually short, and sometimes even barely present in a film. However, they are present, and that makes them important to recognize.
Summary
- The seventh sequence begins at the conclusion of the climax.
- Because the climactic “choice” is irreversible, it is in the seventh sequence that we see the consequence of that choice.
- The seventh sequence is the place for the “unexpected twist” ending.
- All loose ends should be resolved, and the protagonist(s) should be placed into a new homeostasis.
8-Part Story Structure: Sixth Sequence
Sequence 6: The Final Test
Of all the different sequences, this one is probably the easiest to explain, as well as the easiest to identify during a story. This is the epic battle, the last great struggle, and the final showdown where there’s no holding back, no escape, and no giving up. Only one person is getting out of this event on top, and we hope against hope that it’s going to be the protagonist.
Now, while there often isn’t a direct cut between the fifth and sixth sequences, the Climax of the film is almost always recognizable, and often is the part that the audience remembers best. It’s the big bang, the last hurrah, the super struggle that forces the protagonist to face down and defeat (or lose to) the antagonist. It can be serious, it can be horrifying, or it can be hilarious, but it’s the huge, epic, high point of the film where everything depends on the outcome of this fight for both the protagonist and the antagonist.
And often, it’s not even about a fight to the death. Sometimes it’s about the fight for the truth, or to overcome an internal struggle. Sometimes it has nothing to with defeating something, but instead the hero’s goal is simply to survive. While there are many different examples of very traditional climaxes, (ie Hero vs Villian), it would be beneficial to recognize the less-understood climaxes, or those without an easily discernible beginning and end to the actual “sixth sequence.”
Some films are less traditional as far as having a personified antagonist, especially in films like Romantic Comedies, or even many comedies in general. Quite often, these stories revolve around a single protagonist or two, both of whom often act as antagonists for one another throughout the story as their relationships change. Because of these shifting in relationships, often the sixth sequence, or the climax, involves the two of them finally being honest with each other, and finally making a clear choice about the relationship.
To illustrate what I’m talking about, let’s tale a look at the film While You Were Sleeping, which has less to do with the more obvious action-oriented “fight to the death”, but still utilizes the sixth sequence correctly to give us the climax of the film.
In the film, Lucy has found herself in a convoluted and awkward situation. She has been mistaken for the fiancé of Peter, a comatose man who she barely knows, and through a strange set of circumstances has been accepted into his quirky, yet wonderful surrogate family. But by the time Peter wakes up, Lucy has fallen for Jack, her “fiancé’s” brother, is worried about living a lie, and at the same time is concerned that she’s going to lose the relationships that she’s built up with this family that she’s never really known.
All of this comes to a peak at Lucy and Peter’s wedding, where the titular walking-down-the-aisle could be easily interpreted as climbing up a proverbial mountain. With Peter on one side, and his best man, Jack, on the other, the visual representation of Lucy’s choice is unmistakable. We, as the audience, watch as she struggles, trying to make this decision that will drastically affect her life forever. And it is this decision, this action, that is key. This is the crux of climax. Where the story hits its highest point, where this one moment will irreversibly alter the protagonist’s path, creating a fork in the road which can never be changed.
For Lucy, this choice came down to dishonesty vs honesty, and dealing with the consequences of either choice. Either she could go on living a lie forever, or she could come clean with the truth, and face the music. Now, as a storyteller, this set-up is obvious.
It’s the underlying dilemma that has pervaded the story for the entire film, and signs pointed to this being the final confrontation. It’s not about Lucy vs someone else, but instead it’s about Lucy facing herself. In her struggle to learn and grow, we’ve come to understand who this character is. We are rooting for her happiness. And we know that she has to go through this trial, but we hope that she’s going to be alright.
You see, the audience doesn’t necessarily need some super-surprise ending here. There need not be some impressive meteor that comes crashing down, interrupting everything. Instead, the audience is going to expect Lucy to tell the truth, because that’s who we know her to be. She’s only “herself” when she’s being honest, and for her to be happy, she’s going to have to do that.
Now, the climax does NOT include the final resolution, or even the consequences of the final showdown. Instead, it leads up to and ends at the choice. When the choice is made, the momentum shifts down, over the hill. The climax is the road up, and the peak, but the next sequence begins as that decision is made.
Summary
- The climax begins with the proverbial climb to the final summit.
- There can be no chance for escape, at least reasonably. This final action should be one that must happen.
- The choice/action of the climax must be irreversible. There is no turning back after this has occurred.
- The protagonist will be changed forever because of the actions of the climax.
the longing
The warrior stood, staring off into the distance. He stood in the middle of an empty valley, one lined with trees, snow, and the echoes of meaning now lost into the annals of history. The sky seemed bleak, the sun filtering through a haze of darkening clouds, a looming backdrop that made the goal all the more insurmountable. And yet still, the conflict was as inevitable as was the rise of a new day’s horizon.
His weapons were worn, chipped, and weathered from use, the evidence of past struggles and battles etching their fables across the tools of his victory. Yet still, he cradled them in each hand, the weight familiar, the grip understood, and the use understood. His clothes were worn, evidence of past travels leaving tears and marks in various places. And yet, he wore the same garments as when he first began his journey, wearing the stains upon himself with pride, as evidence of trials overcome.
Tales of the warrior were many, but sparse. Some said that they knew him. They knew his habits, they knew his tendencies. And yet, pressed for details, they found themselves at a loss to explain his most basic nature. Others simply knew of him. His name was familiar to many, either whispered on the lips of those who wished to exaggerate his adventures, or shouted with scorn after he had left to continue his journey. But always, there was a memory associated with any who recognized his name.
His name… His name was of the sort unforgettable. His name carried legend, carried myth, carried sorrow, carried strength. His name was dependable to those who knew him well, and yet perhaps this was his greatest struggle. For his was the nature of the guardian, always hoping to serve others, but not realizing that the relationship was often not mutual. Offering help, and receiving doubt and scorn in return.
The valley around him reflected to him the solitude of his nature. With the silence of the world surrounding him, birds did not sing, winds did not blow, and creatures made no movement. The echoes of meaning were no longer there, and in their place there was a deafening silence that served only to confirm his own realizations. He stood, facing this final challenge alone.
Those who would claim him as friends had long ago given up their contact. Those who would still claim him as friends felt just in openly mocking him. And why should they not? The warrior, his quiet nature intimidating to most, seemed to exude dispassion, encouraging those close to him to abandon him to his personal ambitions. Those around him were kept at an arm’s length, and they shared their enthusiasm in kind, simply walking in the other direction.
They saw not the pain in his eyes, or the sorrow in his heart. They felt not the ache in his mind, nor made any attempt to inquire of his inner helplessness. Instead, they saw only what they would allow their eyes to see, and felt that by seeing his appearance, they knew his heart. Wrong they were.
Billowing clouds continued to darken, casting their shadow across his stature, as he gazed into the darkness. His goal lay there, hidden in the trees, but real nonetheless, but still it was cast in shadow. As the rain looked about to fall, he continued his march, hoping that there, in the abyss that awaited him, answers may lay in wait. The struggle would be epic, and the battle nearly insurmountable, and yet he knew that there was no other way.
And so these weapons would be utilized for one last thrust, and though the outcome was uncertain, this much was sure.
He would march to the summit alone.
8-Part Story Structure: Fifth Sequence
Sequence 5: The Calm Before the Storm
After pushing the protagonist to his or her limits at the end of the fourth sequence, there needs to be a moment of calm where our hero can rebuild his strength. Often times, this is the part in the story where the hero is at his lowest. He’s lost something tantamount. He feels like he can’t go on, but knows that he must. Very often, there is someone at his side who is there to remind him not only of his duty, but also of what he must do.
This scene is essential, because it allows us to empathize with the characters in a way that helps us to feel like we truly know them. We’ve seen them through several highs and lows, but now we’re seeing them handling their greatest failure. Do they force through it reluctantly? Or are they unflinching? If you want to deepen the audience understanding of the character, you must show what happens when they are at their lowest.
This sequence is often short, but unbelievably powerful, and memorable if done right. And to illustrate this, let’s take a look at the Christopher Nolan film, The Dark Knight.
In the film, Bruce Wayne was resigned to give himself to the police in an effort to stem The Joker’s tide of murders across Gotham. But at the last moment, Harvey Dent took his place, claiming that he himself was The Batman, and offering himself up to be arrested.
This leads to a difficult chase as Bruce, as Batman, must rescue Harvey from The Joker’s attempt to destroy the police convoy, and at the same time capture the Joker once and for all.
But of course, nothing with The Joker is ever so simple. After a powerful scene in the interrogation room, Batman is only able to save Harvey, during which time the former DA is horribly disfigured, and his childhood friend Rachel is obliterated in a violent warehouse explosion.
It is at this time that we see Bruce in his home, clutching the Batman cowl, and peering with agony into the events that his becoming the Dark Knight has brought upon him and Gotham.
Bruce Wayne: Alfred…
Alfred: Yes, Master Wayne?
Bruce Wayne: Did I bring this on her? I was meant to inspire good. Not…madness. Not…death.
Alfred: You have inspired good. But you spat in the faces of Gotham’s criminals; didn’t you think there might be some casualties? Things were always gonna get worse before they got better.
Bruce Wayne: But Rachel, Alfred…
Alfred: Rachel believed in what you stood for. What we stand for. Gotham needs you.
Bruce Wayne: No, Gotham needs its true hero…and I let that murdering psychopath blow him half to hell.
Alfred: Which is why, for now, they’re gonna have to make do with you.
Alfred acts as Bruce’s conscience, telling him what he already knows, comforting him in his time of need, but not allowing him simply to give up. Bruce must take up the mantle of The Batman, and he can’t simply let The Joker win. Now the calm is over, and the storm of climax is just in front of us.
The fifth sequence is about the protagonist gathering his forces. It’s a point in the film that is often called the “False Ending”. It looks like the antagonist has won, and that all hope is lost. If the hero were to give up right now, the story would be complete, and the ending would be such that the villain had won. Now, of course, that would leave some questions unanswered, but the audience at this point should get a sense of calm, and the action should take a lull.
But, of course, it’s not going to stay that way for long.
Summary
- This is the lowest point of the story for the protagonist.
- This is truly a calm before the storm of the climax, where the protagonist must muster his forces for one last, final strike against the antagonist.
- Often, other characters will act as the protagonist’s conscience, showing them what they must do to overcome this seemingly insurmountable enemy.
8-Part Story Structure: Fourth Sequence
Sequence 4: No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
At the end of the third sequence, the protagonist has usually met his first failure. He naively made an attempt, but perhaps his whole heart wasn’t in it, or he didn’t really have a true understanding of what he should have been doing. He hadn’t yet figured out his goal.
But at the beginning of the fourth sequence, he knows what he should be doing. The antagonist has become clear, and by the end of the sequence, he knows where he should be heading. This sequence is all about making a more determined, thoughtful, educated, sophisticated, and all around difficult attempt, where he’s willing to put himself on the line, and honestly try. He’s not just playing around anymore, and it will show in his demeanor.
However, despite how heart-felt this attempt may be, and despite the sheer determination in our hero’s actions, this attempt is going to end in failure, and the failure is going to be grand. The end of this sequence will bring the protagonist to the lowest point of the story – which is to say, he is going to have a deep sense of hopelessness, of despair, and he may even question whether he should go on.
Let’s take a look at one of my all-time favorite films that illustrates this beautifully, the Spielberg/Zemeckis classsic, Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
After being introduced to the hard-drinking, toon-hating private eye Eddie Valiant, we watch as he quickly becomes involved, albeit unwillingly, in trying to figure out who framed Roger Rabbit for Marvin Acme’s murder, all the while venting repeatedly how much he dislikes toons, and adamantly refusing to go to Toon Town. While he makes several cursory attempts at solving Roger’s dilemma, and believes that he’s got the case figured out several times, it isn’t until he sees the connection between R. K. Maroon and Marvin Acme that he finds some real motivation to go after something, and he decides to confront Maroon, who he believes is behind Roger’s framing, and this is where the “fourth sequence” begins.
We watch Eddie make his way to Maroon, cautiously sneaking in through the back door, and surprising the armed man. Eddie is very confident, disarming Maroon and interrogating him, expecting to hear Maroon’s confession. But he’s surprised to find that it wasn’t Maroon who framed Roger, and that there’s a much larger scheme in the works than Eddie ever realized.
In a surprising twist of events, Jessica Rabbit conks Roger over the head, stuffing him in the trunk and kidnapping him. Eddie gets shot at through the window, but dodges out of the way, the bullets instead striking Maroon, killing him. Eddie makes his way to his car, chasing after Jessica Rabbit through the streets of Los Angeles.
Jessica Rabbit makes a sudden turn, and we see the sign “Toon Town” flash in the headlights. Eddie slams on the brakes as Jessica’s car disappears into the tunnel. Eddie curses, and steps out of the car, standing at the cusp of his greatest challenge – Toon Town. This is the place he’s been trying to desperately avoid for years, and finally he must face his past and, more importantly, face himself in order to figure out the case, and save his friend, Roger.
This is where we see Eddie at the lowest low, at his personal crossroads. He’s lost his best lead, (Maroon), he’s been shot at, and he’s rushing to save his Client, who’s already in mortal danger, and now is being taken to who-knows-where. And here he is at the entrance to Toon Town, and he doesn’t know if he can do it.
Just remember that this sequence must end with the character hitting his lowest point. He has to suffer an irreversible and powerful failure, loss, struggle, or whatever you want to call it. This will also act as a catalyst for the next sequence. We see that this is where the story has taken a more “serious” turn, where things aren’t necessarily just fun and games anymore. Even in a comedy, you’ll get a sense that the film is more sober, and while you may still be laughing, you can feel “weightier” subject matter in the dialog and pacing.
Summary
- This is the protagonist’s second attempt, with more planning and ambition than the first one.
- There should definitely be a more serious tone, despite whatever genre the film is in.
- The sequence should end with the protagonist hitting his lowest point. Do the worst possible thing you can do to this guy.
updating – story structure
I’ve received a number of comments from people in the past about the 8-Part Story Structure posts, either that it’s too hard to find the next post, or that I never finished the series. I’ll admit that I got a little caught up, and didn’t get a chance to fix them, but I’m going to try to remedy that, and hopefully have the series done by the end of the year.
(I’d try for something more ambitious, but until someone starts paying me to do this, I’ve got other things that I need to get done that have a little higher priority, unfortunately. )
I’ve added links at the bottom of each post, starting with the post “Introduction”, also linking from the Unfocused site for people who have found it on a search engine. Hopefully, that makes the series a little easier to navigate.
So, keep an eye out for sequence four, coming out as soon as I can.
- Karratti
idea journal
As a writer, you never know when an interesting idea is going to hit you. Sometimes it’s at the perfect moment, such as when you’re actually writing, but more often than not, it’s an an inopportune place and time where you don’t have your computer handy. It may be at a wedding, or at church. In the middle of a date, or a really important meeting. Sometimes it’s even in the middle of an argument, or during the final moments of the big game. And as many writers know, if you don’t get that idea down on paper, it’s going to disappear forever, and you’ll never be able to remember it.
Enter the idea journal. I keep one with me at all times. All it is is a thin, 5×3 inch black leather-bound Moleskin notebook, with no lined pages. Whenever I have any ideas, no matter how crazy or undeveloped, I whip out my notebook and jot it down. There’s no real rhyme or reason to the pages, filled with sketches, doodles, random quotes and sentences, and who knows what else – But there is a record, and it’s been extremely helpful numerous times.
Especially as I write for my sitcom pilot, there are certain lines that come specifically out of real-life, that aren’t planned, but just appear. If I didn’t write them down, they’d be gone, and I would lose an important resource. The same with design ideas, or even original stories. So many thoughts and ideas float about in the cosmos, and it would be a tragic shame if I were to miss one simply because I had nothing to write it on.
So for those who plan to create, I offer this as a tip. Never go anywhere without an idea journal. It doesn’t have to be fancy, it doesn’t have to look pretty. My black book has been through the ringer, and the binding is only held together with an elastic band, but I value that little book more than most in my library, and you would too. For the key to compelling story isn’t just an interesting idea, but it’s the connections and reflections to reality that breathe power and life into it, and give that story heart.
So grab a notebook, and slip it in your pocket, and be sure to always keep it with you – You’ll never regret that simple decision.
Oh, and you should probably have a pen handy, too.
- Karratti
writer’s block
As much as I can appreciate the irony of typing words about such a subject, I still feel like there’s something to be said here. All last night, as I carved my way through the second act of my latest project, I continued to be plagued by an acute sense of writer’s block. While the layman might not understand the exact implications of that, someone to whom writing is familiar knows all-too-well that feeling that nothing is going to come, no matter how hard you stare at the blinking cursor on the screen.
It’s strange, because you know that the creativity, the passion, it’s all in there. But when it comes to bringing it out, putting it down in a concrete, readable form, it becomes jumbled, and you’re never fully satisfied that the final producct is as good as the idea that powered your imagination in the first place.
So what to do? I’ve found that, for me, one of the best things to do is just to write something else. Send some email. Write out some unrelated prose. Like a blog post, for example. Keep my mind actually thinking about writing, but blindside it with something that’s unrelated, to try and jar myself into looking at the problem from a different perspective in the hopes that something better will show itself.
I don”t know how many writers are reading this, but those of you who do can surely empathize. If you’d like to leave a comment about your ideas for removing the blocks, I’d be glad to hear them.
- Karratti
optimism
I know that I’ve heard myself say this before, but there are times when I have difficulty having faith in even maxims that I have the most faith in. Your attitude is really your own responsibility, and it’s your choice. But there are numerous times when I’ve felt like I just don’t have a choice. You know, those days when you just want to pull the covers over your head and go back to sleep, willing the world to go to a day when you actually feel like doing something.
It’s funny, because just a couple nights ago, I spent hours working with a good friend of mine, well into the early hours of the morning, working the kinks out of this new series. The more and more that we discuss and refine, the better it’s getting, and I think we’re finally starting to see the clear vision of what this story is going to be about, and what it’s going to accomplish. I was ready and raring to write the newest draft of the pilot, and I had the stories and shots so clear in my mind that I didn’t think anything was going to deter me.
And then, I woke up the next day to my alarm.
Worries started to plague me a little. Work concerns and problems seemed a little overwhelming. So instead of actually cracking on the script, I sought a chance to “decompress” by finally figuring out my PS3 online troubles and getting my first taste of Killzone 2 multiplayer. Instantly, it seemed, the entire night disappeared. I don’t exactly regret it, though as I’m sitting here writing this, I realize that I could have spent the time a little more, hell, a LOT more productively.
But today is a new day, and there’s a weekend on the horizon. I plan to take full advantage, and put some time into what I should have been doing. There’s no reason for me to feel depressed, and I choose to be optimistic. Even though I just can’t seem to shake this feeling of “bleh”, I guess I’ll just start doing something, anything, and I’ll let that feeling dry up on its own.
So, with the winds of change blowing into my back, time to go to work.
- BK
moving on to reality
Reality is so much tougher than the world of imagination. In reality, there’s real consequences for the things that you do. You can’t just do whatever you like, and expect the world to just hand you everything you want on a silver platter. Or even on a wooden plate. In fact, you’d be lucky if, when you asked nicely, they actually were to give you a nice paper bag. Instead, reality is a tough, uncompromising world where you must struggle for what you get, and it can be taken away from you in an instant, and the bad guys that you face aren’t as easily taken down like in the movies.
For the past eight years, I’ve written in an online forum with a number of excellent writers who I’ve seen some amazing things from. They’ve written characters with heart, plots with intrigue and power, and situations that, no matter how fantastic they were, had a core of truth to them so bright that they refused to be overshadowed by all the mixes of personalities that we threw at them. They became friends of mine, and through their written word, we were able to see portions of each others’ personas that otherwise might never had seen the light of day.
But now, after all this, it appears that reality is pulling us away. This world that we have created, unfortunately, is still just fiction. It’s an illusion. In the end, it is just a body of work representing countless hours and thousands upon thousands of words, composing a mystical symphony that echoes through the halls of the soul with an undeniable power.
As such, it’s understandable why I’m having a hard time moving on. After placing my heart and soul, my thoughts and feelings into something like this, it’s not an easy task to simply move on and walk away from it all. I’m having a hard time leaving it be, consistently looking over my shoulder, hoping that someone will stop me and pull me back. But instead, all I seem to hear is deafening silence.
But that time does not have to be lost. I have learned lessons all throughout the years, and it would be a waste to let them all go. Instead, I will take what I have learned and apply it to my new ambitions. I can continue to write, and continue to create. That’s why I started working in film in the first place. So, it’s time to move on to reality. But now that the world that I’m creating is going to be visited by more than just a few of us writers, reality better be ready.
Because I’m coming, baby.
- Karratti
8-Part Story Structure: Third Sequence
Sequence 3: Well, Let’s Give It a Try
Now that we’ve got all of the main groundwork laid out, we’re ready for the protagonist to take a first shot at achieving his goal. However, this sequence is often called the “naive attempt”, simply because it consists of a somewhat half-hearted attempt at achieving the goal that the characters already know that they need to achieve.
This first attempt is something of a knee-jerk reaction to getting what the character thinks he wants. Usually, it’s not fully thought-through, and often, the audience will know instinctively that this is probably not the best idea.
Let’s jump into a familiar family cartoon, and apply this sequence to Disney’s Alladin. After the title character is captured, condemned, and thrown into the dungeon, he’s not feeling so hot, especially since the new “love of his life” has been taken away, and they are both separated by several floors and a number of steel bars. But we know that this is part of the life of a “street rat”, and that sometimes bad things tend to happen.
He’s approached by an old man who tells him that the answers to his troubles lie within the mystical Cave of Wonders, and that he can have all the treasures that his heart desires if Alladin will just retrieve the lamp for him. Alladin, naive as can be, but with a little greed in his eye, decides to go along, and makes his way into the cave. He then, through a tumultuous chain of crazy events, gets the lamp, but is stuck yet again within the confines of another cave, even farther from the princess Jasmine that he wants to be with.
But wouldn’t you know it, there happens to be a genie in the little lamp, and as Alladin rubs it, out his flows in a cloud of smoke. After a song and dance number, and a lot of quick talking, Alladin and the Genie are at a little desert oasis, where Alladin explains his situation, and comes to the solution that the way to Jasmine’s heart is going to be through becoming a prince, despite the audience knowing that she doesn’t much care for that type. Well, here starts another little show tune, and we’re “introduced” to Prince Ali.
Now, how does Jasmine respond? Well, she responds by ignoring Ali completely, and walks away. Not exactly the warm welcome that he was expecting. Alladin, er, Ali tries again, this time on the princess’ balcony, where the Genie is encouraging Alladin to just be himself, (advice which Alladin ignores), and the princess rejects him yet again and tells him to jump off the balcony.
The key to the “failure” of this first attempt, is that it can’t be too great. The protagonist is not exactly putting his whole soul into this try, but is just being naive, believing that something this simple could be the solution to his problems. The third sequence is often one of fun, where we can feel alright laughing at the foolishness of the protagonist, and don’t have to take things too seriously. But, of course, that always depends on the story that’s being told.
The most important thing to remember in the third sequence is that it is designed to be a vehicle to get the protagonist actually working on the problem. Since he finally knows what he “wants”, he’s going to try and get it, and he’s got to try and fail at first, or the goal wasn’t all that difficult to obtain to begin with.
Summary
- At this point, the protagonist doesn’t have his whole heart in the attempt. He’s making a naive attempt.
- The tone here can still be relatively light-hearted, if the story permits.
- While the attempt is going to end in failure, the consequence shouldn’t be too great, because the attempt wasn’t all that great, either.
8-Part Story Structure: Second Sequence
Sequence 2: Excuse Me, But I Have a Concern
Just at the end of the first sequence, we are introduced to the first point of attack, where the main characters are faced with a problem that they didn’t really have before. No matter how hectic their lives might have daily been up to that point, this new problem was not part of their plan. Instead, it’s something unique, a problem that they hadn’t anticipated, but which presents an extremely large thorn in their side, or possibly a huge possible reward or goal for our hero to obtain.
This new “problem” presents the main objective for the protagonist(s), and the audience is able to realize what kind of ride that they’re going to be on.
In the movie Paycheck, we already know from the first sequence that Michael Jennings is a brilliant engineer who makes a comfortable living doing engineering work for other companies, and then having his memory erased so that he will not be able to betray that technology to anyone else. In return, he is paid very well, but he doesn’t have a clue as to what he might have worked on.
In the second sequence, he is presented with a chance to make a huge paycheck, in return for a job that would require him to lose three years of his life. He decides to take the chance, and when he “wakes up” after the job is all done, he goes out to retrieve his money, but finds out that his money is gone, and all he has is an envelope with twenty seemingly common objects that aren’t worth nearly enough to compensate him, and on top of that, he’s got a number of people after him trying to kill him for reasons unknown.
This second sequence, again, takes around 10-15 minutes, but lays out the main problem that the protagonist and we, as an audience, are going to be concerned with for the remainder of the film. It raises the questions in our minds that we expect to have answered by the end of the film:
“Why did he give up all the money?” “What do the objects have to do with anything?” “What was he working on for the past three years?” “What are these random flashbacks?”
The main purpose of the second sequence is the introduction of whatever it is that is going to occupy the time and efforts of the protagonist, but it also must be laid out in an interesting way. Just having a random person say “Well, here’s your new problem” like a plumber might identify the source of a leak, isn’t going to cut it. This is entertainment. This is something that people are paying money and sacrificing time to see. They deserve a well-crafted scenario creatively portrayed, and that’s what you have to give them.
By the end of this sequence, the protagonist should have set his goal as to what he needs to do, or at least have a semi-solid objective in mind. If not, then the sequence is not yet over, and it needs to be retooled until that is the result.
Summary
- What is the point of attack? Show the main problem that the protagonist is going to have to face for the remainder of the film.
- The character should also set the goal for themselves, regardless of their own amount of motivation in pursuing it.
8-Part Story Structure: First Sequence
Sequence 1: Homeostasis – Our New Ordinary World
The first act of the film is always extremely important. You have to grab the audience’s attention, and thrust them into this new world of your story as quickly as possible, immersing them into the adventure that they will be experiencing over the next one-and-a-half to two hours (or sometimes more, if trends continue). You also need to help the audience realize the main conflict that will dominate the tension in the film, so that by the end of the first act, all of the main players will have been introduced, the main problem is identified, and the second act can start the audience on their way to figuring out how things are going to be resolved.
The first sequence involves the audience being thrown right into the story without any prior knowledge. There should not be any explanation required, and we shouldn’t need any real narration. The story should just plain start.
Take, for example, The Raiders of the Lost Ark. In the opening sequence, we see just a few men walking through a South American jungle, following another man whose face we cannot see. Instead, we see his leather jacket and brown fedora, and we realize the dangers of this place by the expressions of the men following him. We come to understand that this leader misses very little, as one of the men tries to betray him with a revolver, but a whip strikes out fast as lightning to snap the weapon away, sending the man scurrying away into the darkness. And finally, we see the rougish face of Indiana Jones.
We follow him into a hidden temple, and watch with wonder as he expertly navigates a tomb that is riddled with booby-traps, all the while keeping his companion safe despite himself. We watch as he moves towards the golden idol, and we see the greediness in his eyes as he makes the fateful swap that sets the ancient machine traps in motion.
In a blur, he rushes through the tomb, renavigating the previous obstacles with lightning speed, just on the verge of death as he flees for his life with the idol in hand. We watch as he is betrayed by his other companion, and realize that as long as a person trusts in Indy, they’re going to be alright, but if they betray him, then they’re probably going to die.
He rushes from the caverns, and finally from a giant rolling stone ball, and eventually lands at the feet of Belloch, who relieves him of the idol at the point of several dozen blowguns. Then, Indy is forced to make his escape, dodging death yet again, and finally reaching the plane, and his rescue, in the nick of time. And as a final bonus, we find out that Indy absolutely cannot stand snakes, which will come into play later in the story.
Just in that little sequence, we’ve introduced Indiana Jones as a character, we’ve shown his traits, and his life, and we’ve introduced the main villian, all in about 15 minutes. In our own stories, we have to be sure that this in a similar fashion. This is a perfect example of an excellent first sequence.
We need to give the audience a taste of what to expect from the rest of the film, the kind of “flavor” that they should be ready for. We need to show at least the main character, and possibly the main villian (if applicable), and identify some of the traits of each of these characters. We need to establish the setting of the film, the time, setting, place, environment, and cultural situation. Each of these parts are essential to a successful first sequence, and a quality story will address them.
Other wonderful examples include the opening sequence of The Shawshank Redemption, as well as Jurassic Park, Star Wars, and even non-adventury type films such as While You Were Sleeping and In the Heat of the Night. Each does a wonderful job of opening the film, and giving the audience a chance to accustom themselves to the world that they’re going to be in for the next couple of hours.
Summary
- This is the first time that we’re seeing our protagonists, the setting, the time, and everything else about the story. Show the protagonist(s) in their homeostasis.
- See the conflict that pulls the protagonist out of their “norm”.
- Set the tone for the rest of the film.
The 8-Part Story Structure: Introduction
I’ve been running through my notes lately, of old classes and projects, all in an attempt to further hone my skills and better understand exactly what makes up the essence of story. It’s not a simply matter of cool characters, just an interesting idea, or whatever, but instead there’s a definite formula that seems to penetrate most stories, especially those of a presentative nature, such as film or theatre.
That’s not to say that every single story is exactly identical, but instead, there is a certain form that must be seriously considered when a story is created, or else the audience will not make sense of it. One of a writer’s chief concerns should always be the audience, and how they are going to react to any certain part of your presentation. And in that vein, the audience generally will respond favorably to a new, fresh, unfamiliar story, told using a familiar formula.
This formula was laid out best, I believe, by Czech filmmaker Frank Daniel, who’s largest contribution, at least to Western Cinema, was his “8-Sequence Structure” paradigm, which he developed during his time as head of the Graduate Screenwriting Program at the University of Southern California. With this structure, he outlines the very basic formula that most films, if not most stories, should follow.
The formula is to seperate the story into eight 10-15 minute sequences, with each sequence acting almost as its own “mini-movie”, with an individual three-act structure. In the overarching structure of the film, the first two sequences combine to form the film’s first act. The next four sequences then create the film’s second act. Finally, the last two sequences complete the resolution and dénouement of the story. Each sequence’s resolution creates the situation which sets up the next sequence.
This structure has its roots in the limitations of early films, where film reels were really only about 10-15 minutes in length, and the projectionist had to then swap the reels (in what is known as a changeover) for the film to continue. Early screenwriters, knowing these limitations, began to write their films with a definitive beginning and end to each reel, so that the story wouldn’t simply “jump” halfway through a scene. Feature films, which were often around 90-120 minutes in length, consisted of eight separate reels. Even in some older theaters, the changeover continues for feature films, which are delivered as a package of five to eight different reels that have to be threaded properly.
This rhythm became familiar to audiences and writers alike, and so even as technology has progressed to the point where the film no longer “jumps”, the film-viewing audience has been trained to understand that most films have that rhythm at their heart, regardless of what the film is about. As such, you’ll quickly see that when a story is not told with an understanding of this formula, it begins to be uncomfortable to watch. And as is said often in the business, you need to know the rules before you can break the rules.
What I’d like to explain over the next few installments are the different sequences as I understand them, in an attempt to help others in their own stories, and also to help myself to better internalize them. In my own life, whenever I’ve been able to share things with others, I tend to understand them a little better, and I get them permanently into my mind. So, feel free to follow along as we explore this amazing storymaking formula.
The Strange World of Blogging
When I first started blogging, I kind of did it just for the fun of it. I’ve always been a journal writer, and I like to write in general, and I sort of needed somewhere where I could start putting my thoughts up. (I’m on my computer usually six-plus hours a day, so this seemed like the best solution to my “need-to-get-my-thoughts-out” cravings.)
Anyways, over the past couple of months, I’ve learned all kinds of things about this weird wild world. And, for those of you who are starting up, or are thinking about starting a blog, here’s a couple of tips to keep in mind:
1) Don’t Expect Heavy Traffic
Most blogs don’t get a lot of traffic. But I will tell you that the more that you post, the more people will come. Write about something interesting, write about varying topics, and you’ll see more and more people coming to your blog to check it out. It just takes time.
2) Write What’s Interesting To You
Don’t just write to get traffic. Write what you want, not what’s “popular.”
3) Write Well
The maxim that I’ve always tried to live by is “quality before quanity.” A single great post is worth ten mediocre ones.
4) Pictures
Use pictures to spice up your site, but make sure that you don’t go overboard. A couple pictures here and there really helps to add variety to the blog, but too many and it just becomes distracting. And on a related note, make sure that your pictures “fit” together. Ask an art-minded friend what she thinks, and if she doesn’t like it, then figure out how to fix it.
5) No Music!!
Don’t put music on your blog. Whenever I come to a site that automatically blasts music through my stereo without asking me first, I leave. You’ll never see a professional site with automatic music. Well, at least not one that gets frequented often.
6) A Note About Animated GIFs
Avoid the overuse of Animated GIFs. Animation is like a spice. A little adds flavor, but too much causes avoidance behavior.
7) Careful About Personal Information
Even if you’re doing a personal blog that only you and your friends are going to be looking at, be very careful about what you post online. Your name should be fine, but don’t put up a personal address, or any real specifics. That way, if you put up something that makes someone angry, they won’t hunt you down. Just a friendly precaution.
8) Above All, Have Fun With It
Just have a good time, and do your best. The rest doesn’t really matter all that much. Happy blogging.
- Kyle
Imagined Scenes
Sometimes, when I’m sitting at Taco Bell, or maybe when I’m waiting in line at the grocery store, my mind will start to wander a little bit. (And I’m sure that no one else has this problem, right?) For some reason, I suddenly visualize movie scenes, of running into someone at this random place, whose path and mine were destined to cross. Sometimes it’s a potential date, sometimes it’s an ally, sometimes it’s an enemy.
I’ll be standing there, just loading my groceries onto the counter, the teenage, thin, glasses-wearing male clerk waits behind the register, and then starts to beep in my purchases with his little red light. Suddenly another cart crashes into mine, sending me stumbling to the floor. I look up, and see a malicious grin bearing down on me from behind a cartful of protien powder and raw steaks.
“Mr. Brogan,” says the man, his height and girth easily doubling mine. “I want something from you.”
I scramble to my feet, and look him in the eye. “And what’s that?” I say with all the nerve that I can muster.
“Your pin number.” He says quietly, with a voice of low thunder.
“Huh?” I say.
“You have to put in your pin,” says the cashier, a little annoyed at my stupidity. I nod, type it in, take the reciept, and pick up my bagged groceries, heading for my car.
As soon as I open the door, though, I hear the squeal of tires. I look to my left to see a car barreling through the parking lot, speed rising. Right in front of me, though, is a woman, directly in the path of the car. I tackle her out of the way as the car misses us by inches, spilling my milk and eggs onto the sidewalk.
The car spins around, intending to finish the job, but I lift one of the carts above my head and throw it through the windshield, sending the car crashing into a lightpole. The woman praises me as her hero, and I say simply, “All in a day’s work, ma’am.”
Then I shrug, and pick-up my groceries, and load them into my car. The drive home is a car chase yet again, or perhaps a secret mission to get my groceries, which actually contain information that could compromise the security of the entire nation, to my home, where I can transmit them to the NSA without detection.
I don’t know. I know I have an overactive imagination. Perhaps that’s why it’s best for me to stick to writing. But all that inspiration has to come from somewhere, right?
- Kyle
