How a person writes their story
is individualistic and one way is no better than another. Whatever works. Even before becoming a journalist I was telling stories from the
hip—no notes, no outline. Stories appeared then as now as mental motion
pictures flowing down my arms and onto paper. At first I used a pencil or pen,
and then in eighth grade took a typewriter class. I don’t think my teacher ever
thought I’d ever master that contraption, but over the next couple years my
fingers learned to fly over Mr. Royal’s keys. By the time I graduated from high
school and entered journalism those fingers were smoking at 70+ words per
minute with 90% accuracy. That was important in that occupation. From notes
taken in the field and during research there was a deadline to meet and an editor
cracking a mean whip. Somewhere during those formative years of going to the
movies, watching TV, and reading novels, I internalized the basic elements of a
successful story so that after doing preliminary research and maybe jotting a
few notes, putting down the story was simply sitting in front of a keyboard and
pounding away. The result is that a novel-length, rough draft can be kicked out
in ten to fourteen days which drives some of my co-writers in NaNoWritMo nuts.
Does that mean the story is complete? Is bread done before it’s cooked?
The novel currently under
construction is done drafted. (sic) Now, it’s time for the first of many edits, and
that doesn’t mean spelling, punctuation, and grammar. In previous eFiles I put
forward certain things a writer should consider, especially about creating
characters. These first series of edits will focus on those and other points coming
in future eFiles. Over the next week or so I want to focus on the two most
important characters – the hero and the villain. In this story they are
François (the pirate Dolphin) and Lord Chudleigh (the kidnapper). (Yes, I
identified a second hero in the last post, but I am still waffling about his
true role, and have put him on the shelf.)
Ideally, the hero and villain are a reflection of one another. The only thing separating them is their moral center or purpose. A villain isn't being evil just for the giggles. The Joker in Batman, Voldemort in Harry Potter, the Emperor in Star Wars, or Hitler in WWII didn't behave badly just because. They and every meaningful guy in the black hat thinks they are doing right, that they are the true hero in their own, twisted vision of the story. That is how a writer should approach the villain. We are talking Yin and Yang here, better known since ancient Greek times as the unity of opposites. (see: Dramatica: The New Theory of Story - 4th ed. available as a free pdf at http://dramatica.com/resources/assets/dramatica-theory-book.pdf. This book and a whole lot more is available online at: Screenplay Systems.)
One of the most standout exchanges
explaining this relationship between hero and villain appeared in the movie, Indiana
Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark. This occurs between French
archaeologist, Dr. René Belloq and Dr. Henry Jones, Jr.
BELLOQ
How
odd that it should end this way
for
us, after so many...
stimulating
encounters. I almost
regret
it. Where shall I find a new
adversary
so close to my own level?
INDY
Try
the local sewer.
BELLOQ
I
know you despise me. We always
hate
in others that which we most
fear
in ourselves. And you and I
are
very much alike.
INDY
Now
you’re getting nasty.
BELLOQ
We
have always done the same kind
of
work. Our methods have not
differed
as much as you pretend. I
am
a shadowy reflection of you. But
it
would have taken only a nudge to
make
you the same as me, to push
you
out of the light.
There
is a certain amount of truth to this; the recognition
of
it flickers across Indy’s bleary eyes.
[Indiana Jones and Raiders of
the Lost Ark,
Screen Play by Lawrence Kasdan, pg. 49, 1979]
This understanding makes writing the hero and
villain much easier. The more you know about one, the more you know about the
other. While not necessary, it would be nice to show that they created each
other. For instance, look at Batman I. Young thug, Jack Napier, kills Bruce
Wayne’s parents launching Bruce on a crime fighter career. In adulthood, the
two meet and Jack falls into a vat of goo and comes out as the Joker. Toward
the end we have this exchange:
Joker
You
made me. You dropped me into that vat of chemicals, remember?
That
wasn’t easy to get over.
Batman
You
killed my parents. I made you? Well, you made me first.
[In My
Story Can Beat Up Your Story, Jeffrey Schechter, Ch. 5)
In the story under development in
conjunction with this eFile, that relationship has been accomplished. The villain
of Order of the Brethren is Lord Chudleigh, son of Commodore Chudleigh who
appeared in the preceding novel, The Urchin Pirate. In Urchin, the
commodore lured pirates to a “treasure” island with phony maps in order to sink
their ships and hang survivors. The Dolphin engages the commodore’s ship. That
engagement begins François’ reputation as a pirate. In Order, we meet his
lordship, the commodore’s son, who seeks to destroy pirates, but in particular
reek revenge on the Dolphin for his father going insane and early death because
of what happened. Indirectly, they made each other.
During this first edit I
am going to look closely at the villain. He must be the hero of his own story, powerful,
ruthless, and committed enough to drive the conflict, a dark reflection of the
hero’s wants, needs, and desires. A really good example of this is the sleazy,
hateful villain, Lord Cutler Beckett from Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead
Man's Chest. The writers and actor did a marvelous job. You want to slit that guy’s throat before he gets off his white
horse.
While it might be
nice to have the two face off during the story, in this case, each is going
about their business hundreds of miles apart until the very end, and then may
or may not actually come face to face. (I’ve drafted it both ways and weighing
what to do.)
Next time, I’ll go a bit further
into developing these two gentlemen and how to handle their long distance
relationship.