The Storyline Is In Our Genes
Sometimes, we try too hard to come up with elaborate plots that out-twist the latest blockbuster book or movie. We think that, to be successful, we need to be better than everybody else. We need to develop extremely complex plots with shocking endings the reader could have never anticipated. While it is true that some stories are remembered for such tricks, most authors are successful with a much simpler blueprint for their story.
Why? Because what readers really want is a story they can relate to, either consciously or subconsciously. If it resonates with them, the bells and whistles we add to make our stories stand out can actually undermine the power of our words, casting their significance in the senseless shadow of gimmicks and glitter.
The story pattern the audience connects with is old and so a part of us, we don’t always recognize it. What we get is a feeling of inexplicable camaraderie with the author or, even better, the main character.
Joseph Campbell, in his book The Hero With A Thousand Faces, discusses the centuries-long patterns of stories revolving around an archetypal character, the hero:
Whether we listen with aloof amusement to the dreamlike mumbo jumbo of some red-eyed witch doctor of the Congo, or read with cultivated rapture thin translations from the sonnets of the mystic Lao-tse; now and again crack the hard nutshell of an argument of Aquinas, or catch suddenly the shining meaning of a bizarre Eskimo fairy tale: it will be always the one, shape-shifting yet marvelously constant story that we find, together with a challengingly persistent suggestion of more remaining to be experienced than will ever be known or told. (p. 3)
As readers, we have come to expect our main character is going to go on some type of journey (resisting at first), face several trials and tribulations (with the guidance of a mentor), achieve his goal (and yet still face some unexpected danger), and return home. We are familiar with such patterns in our classics (The Wizard of Oz, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn) as well as in our contemporary favorites (Harry Potter, Raiders of the Lost Ark, the Star Wars saga, among others).
While we may not know the exact outcome of each of the stories, we rely on the storyline to follow a generic pattern. The predictability of such a pattern is what keeps us connected to the story.
As writers, understanding this pattern will do wonders for our own stories, both in their organization and in their connection with our readers.
Christopher Vogler’s book, The Writer’s Journey (now in its third edition), converts Campbell’s beliefs into an outline that is easy to follow and makes your story almost bullet-proof. The 12 stages of the journey are outlined below. They provide a structure to writers that, when followed even in the slightest bit, connect with readers in a relatable and relevant manner at the subconscious level .
After you review these 12 stages, check one of your pieces in draft stage and see how its plot might benefit from following a few of these checkpoints. Remember, nothing is set in stone. I like to think of these stages as “carved in water” for the writer to use as she wishes.
1. THE ORDINARY WORLD.
The hero, uneasy, uncomfortable or unaware, is introduced sympathetically for the audience to identify with the situation or dilemma. The hero is shown against a background of environment, heredity, and personal history. Some kind of polarity in the hero’s life is pulling in different directions and causing stress.
2. THE CALL TO ADVENTURE.
Something shakes up the situation, either from external pressures or from something rising up from deep within, so the hero must face the beginnings of change.
3. REFUSAL OF THE CALL.
The hero feels the fear of the unknown and tries to turn away from the adventure, however briefly. Alternately, another character may express the uncertainty and danger ahead.
4. MEETING WITH THE MENTOR
The hero comes across a seasoned traveler of the worlds who gives him or her training, equipment, or advice that will help on the journey. Or the hero reaches within to a source of courage and wisdom.
5. CROSSING THE THRESHOLD
At the end of the story’s beginning, the hero commits to leaving the Ordinary World and enters a new region or condition with unfamiliar rules and values.
6. TESTS, ALLIES AND ENEMIES
The hero is tested and sorts out allegiances in the Special World.
7. APPROACH TO THE IN-MOST CAVE
The hero and newfound allies prepare for the major challenge in the Special World.
8. THE ORDEAL
Near the middle of the story, the hero enters a central space in the Special World and confronts death or faces his or her greatest fear. Out of the moment of death comes a new life.
9. THE REWARD
The hero takes possession of the treasure won by facing death. There may be celebration, but there is also danger of losing the treasure again.
10. THE ROAD BACK
About three-fourths of the way through the story, the hero is driven to complete the adventure, leaving the Special World to be sure the treasure is brought home. Often a chase scene signals the urgency and danger of the mission.
11. THE RESURRECTION
At the climax, the hero is severely tested once more on the threshold of home. He or she is purified by a last sacrifice, another moment of death and rebirth, but on a higher and more complete level. By the hero’s action, the polarities that were in conflict at the beginning are finally resolved.
12. RETURN WITH THE ELIXIR
The hero returns home or continues the journey, bearing some element of the treasure that has the power to transform the world as the hero has been transformed.
When I first read The Writer’s Journey many years ago, I realized even subtle changes in my plot (relocating where the “seizing of the sword” took place or moving the final climax much closer to the end of the story in the Ordinary World) made a great deal of sense to the overall story. My readers thought so, too (although they had a hard time explaining why–there we go again working with that subconscious!). What matters is we organize the events in our stories with intent and purpose, ensuring the story we write is tight, engaging, and meaningful to the audience.
Source for 12 stages and graphic: Christopher Vogler’s The Writer’s Journey and www.thewritersjourney.com.
Hi Rus, Nice to see it all laid out so clearly. It strikes me, looking at the diagram, that publishers these days seem to have taken Kurt Vonnegut’s words to heart (he said something like “start as close to the end as possible”). They want action from the beginning, with the reader thrown straight into it. For them, the start would be somewhere around point 8 in this scheme (the rest being relegated to ‘backstory’). But then, perhaps there is a mismatch between what publishers want and what makes a good story.
Dead on, I think, with that last thought, Graham. I’ve heard countless examples (and have experienced it personally) where money drives many of the decisions, not the story.
I’ve just looked through a series of adventures I did for my blog when I first started writing. Interestingly enough, a number of these features were included without my ever having seen anything like this. But some were missing, so I guess I’ve more work to do.
Last year I had the luck to attend a panel at WorldCon on the Hero’s Journey. At that panel the comment was made, that rather the journey being a blue print on how to write a story, it is perhaps better utilised as an editing and review tool at a second draft stage – to see how closely the original conforms to the steps.
As a starting point in the monster job of reviewing, revising and rewriting – the whole, so I have a first draft, where the hell do I go from here – I think it’s perfect.
I find it fascinating that all stories, myths, legends, across time and cultures conform to this unfolding. Humans are simply amazing creatures. Makes me want to wonder – at just what point of the journey am I at?
Jodi, your point is outstanding regarding the application of Vogler’s structure at the revision stage, which is what Paulfr was mentioning in the previous comment. For me, I ask critical questions deep in the revision stage about my plot, and whether I do or do not want my characters to go through specific writing-journey stages (particularly toward the end of the story).
Interesting post. I find it fascinatig how many stories (some which I read, some which I wrote) I could think of that follow close to this pattern. It seems to me like a wonderful tool for editing especially, when sometimes we realize that there is some sort of element missing in the story, perhaps these stages may contain the answer.
This is synchronism at its best! I am reading The Hero With A Thousand Faces at this very time. I am so grateful to have come across this. Thank you so much!
Peace,
Nico