A story’s ending should conclude the story’s plot and theme satisfactorily to the reader. The last thing you want to do is create an ending or dénouement that struggles in its conclusions. The kind of ending you choose for your story will depend on the kind of story you are telling: one that rises to a climax or one that returns home.

According to Ansen Dibell, author of Elements of Fiction Writing: Plot, successful endings come in two basic shapes: 1) circular and 2) linear.

Circular Endings

This is where beginning and ending connect in a circular story. In such a story, the end and the beginning are much more alike than they are to the middle. This is because the end reflects the promise of the beginning. Framed stories use the same technique, except the beginning and end “frame” are more like bookends, supporting the story from the outside and made of a visibly different structure (e.g., often portrayed in prologue and epilogue fashion and often in different POV, tense, style, etc.).

Circular endings, and their circular stories, are often used in quest-adventure stories. The “Hero’s Journey” is a common plot approach. The main character sets out on a quest to find or learn or accomplish something, passes through trials, and finally succeeds in his mission and returns home with his prize to share (often insight or wisdom). Ultimately, the protagonist grows/changes/achieves then brings that wealth back home to alter his pre-existing everyday life. Beginning and end mirror and contrast one another.

Circular endings must do the job of showing the hero’s “homecoming”, how she is changed through the turning point in the middle of the story, and what she has brought to the ordinary world to change it.

Linear Endings

Linear stories and their endings run more like a marathon up a hill, with slides, diversions and hard climbs, until they reach the summit and climax (the highest point of conflict—and resolution). Once the result of the conflict is achieved, the story is at an end. Most straight adventure stories are of this type.

Reflective vs. Narrative Ending

Roy Peter Clark, author of Writing Tools: 50 Essential Strategies for Every Writer, reflects that “great endings bring back the whole story.” He cites the “reflective ending” of The Great Gatsby, in which the narrator reflects back, pulling together the important narrative threads like a master weaver, to make meaningful conclusions.

“A powerful alternative,” adds Clark, “is the ‘narrative ending’, a final scene that crowns the action.” Both types of ending work when masterfully handled. The former is essentially “telling” and the latter is essentially “showing”. You choose. Both work.

Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Stumble This Post

Christopher Vogler, author of The Writer’s Journey, describes a 12-stage journey based on the three-act storyline of the Greeks. It is also based on Joseph Campbell’s 8-step transformation model.

The twelve steps fall within the three Acts, which consist of:

• Separation: ordinary world; call to adventure; refusal of the call; meeting with the mentor; and crossing the threshold
• Initiation & Transformation: tests, allies and enemies; approach to the inmost cave; ordeal (abyss); reward/seizing the sword (transformation & revelation)
• Return: the road block; resurrection/atonement; return with the elixir

Below, I describe each step and provide an example from the popular fantasy movie, Star Wars.

ACT ONE: SEPARATION

Ordinary World: Describes the Hero’s world with its problems and how the hero may or may not quite fit in.

Call to Adventure: the herald presents the hero with a problem, challenge and/or adventure; irrevocably changing the ordinary world—in STAR WARS this is when Obi Wan approaches Luke to join him on his mission to Aldaraan.

Refusal of the Call: Our reluctant hero balks at the threshold of adventure. In STARWARS Luke refuses at first until he finds his relatives killed.

Meeting with the Mentor: The mentor provides the hero with a gift to help her through the threshold. In STAR WARS Obi Wan gives Luke his light saber.

Crossing the Threshold: The hero commits to the adventure and enters the Special World. In STAR WARS this happens when Luke returns to Obi Wan after seeing his relatives brutally killed.

ACT TWO: INITIATION & TRANSFORMATION

Tests, Allies, Enemies: The hero must face tests, makes allies and enemies and begins to learn the rules of the Special World. In STAR WARS Luke is initiated into his special world by Obi Wan in A New Hope.

Approach to the Inmost Cave: The hero reaches the edge of the most dangerous place, often where the object of her quest resides. In STAR WARS this is the scene in The Empire Strikes Back when Luke willingly enters the trap set for him and confronts Vader in Cloud City.

Ordeal (the Abyss): Our hero hits bottom, where she faces “death” and is on the brink of battle with the most powerful hostile force. In STAR WARS Luke steps into the abyss, choosing almost certain death when forced to surrender at his father’s bidding to the dark side in Cloud City.

Reward/seizing the sword (Transformation & Revelation): Having survived “death” (of fear or ignorance) our hero—and the reader—receives a reward or elixir in the form of an epiphany and transforms. In STAR WARS, Luke returns in Return of the Jedi transformed and mature with new powers.

ACT THREE: THE RETURN

The Road Block: Our hero must deal with the consequences of confronting the dark forces of the Ordeal (e.g., often the chase scene). In STAR WARS this is when Luke is forced to fight his father on board the Death Star, overseen by the evil Emperor.

Resurrection/Atonement: The hero is transformed in this climactic moment through her experience and seeks atonement with her reborn self, now in harmony with the “new” world; the imbalance which sent her on her journey, mostly corrected or path made clear. In STAR WARS this is when Luke makes the choice not to kill his father, is almost destroyed by the emperor but for Vader’s intervention and Luke reconciles with his father.

Return with the Elixir: Our hero returns to the Ordinary World with some elixir, treasure, or lesson from the Special World. In STAR WARS the last scenes with Luke and his Jedi “family” suggest a new life rich in lessons.

This article is an excerpt from Nina Munteanu’s The Fiction Writer: Get Published, Write Now! (Starfire World Syndicate)

Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Stumble This Post

The world of fairy tales and myth is peopled with recurring character types and relationships. Heroes on a quest, heralds and wise old men or women who provide them with “gifts”, shady fellow-travelers—threshold guardians—who may “block” the path, tricksters who confuse and complicate things and evil villains who simply want to destroy our hero. Joseph Campbell called them archetypes. In psychology, an archetype is a model of a person, personality or behavior. For instance, a mother-figure is an archetype. Archetypes are found in nearly all forms of literature, with their motifs being predominantly rooted in folklore.

Assigning an archetype to a character allows you to clarify that character’s role in the story as well as to determine the overall theme of the story itself. Archetypes are therefore an important tool in the universal language of storytelling, just as myth serves the overall purpose of supplying “the symbols that carry the human spirit forward.” (Joseph Campbell). Campbell even described the archetype as something expressed biologically and wired into every human being.

An archetype need not be fixed; that is, a particular character may evolve and function through several archetypes. This makes characters more real, interesting and less allegorical. The seven most useful archetypes for the writer according to Christopher Vogler (author of A Writer’s Journey) are:

· Hero
· Mentor
· Herald
· Threshold guardian
· Shape shifter
· Shadow
· Trickster

The Hero

A hero is someone willing to sacrifice his own needs for others. Vogler says that the hero archetype “represents the ego’s search for identity and wholeness.” The hero provides a character for us to identify with. She is usually the principal POV character in a story and has qualities most readers can (or want to) identify with. This means someone with flaws like you and me (not a cardboard cutout of infinite virtue). The function of the hero is to grow and change through her journey as she encounters other archetypes. Every hero is on a quest, a mission, or a journey, whether it is an actual physical journey or (and usually combined with) a psychological journey toward “home” (salvation or redemption) through sacrifice. “The true mark of the hero, says Vogler, is in the act of sacrifice, “the hero’s willingness to give up something of value, perhaps even her own life, on behalf of an ideal or a group,” and ultimately for the greater good. A hero is a true altruist.

Heroes may be willing or unwilling. Some can be described as anti-heroes, who are usually notably flawed characters that must grow significantly to achieve the status of true hero. Often the anti-hero starts off behaving more like a villain, like the character Crais in Farscape. The wounded anti-hero may be a “heroic knight in tarnished armor, a loner who has rejected society or been rejected by it,” according to Vogler. Examples include Jim Stark in Rebel Without a Cause or Aragorn in Lord of the Rings. The catalyst hero provides an exception to the rule of hero undergoing the most change. This type of hero shows less of a character arc but precipitates significant change or transformation in other protagonists. A good example is the character, David Adams, in Ben Bova’s Colony.

The Mentor

The mentor is usually a positive figure who aids or trains the hero. The mentor often possesses divine wisdom and has faith in the hero and shows great enthusiasm, as a result. The word “enthusiasm” itself means god-inspired or having a god in you. The mentor represents the “Self”, the god within us, says Vogler; a higher Self that is wiser, nobler and more godlike.

The mentor often gives the hero a “gift”—once the hero has earned it, that is. The gift is usually something important for the hero’s use on his journey; either a weapon to destroy a “monster” or a “talisman” to enlighten the hero in deciding the path of her journey. A good example of this is in Star Wars, when Luke’s mentor, Obi Wan, provides him with his father’s light saber (Luke’s magic talisman).

The mentor also serves as inventor, the hero’s conscience, as motivator, or information-provider. In love stories the mentor may function in the role of initiation. Vogler describes many types of mentor from fallen mentors to dark mentors, shamans, and comics.

The Herald

Heralds announce the coming of significant change, whether the hero likes it or not (and usually they don’t). In Act One, we usually find the hero struggling, getting by in her Ordinary World; yearning, like Luke Skywalker on Tatooine, for “more”. Often not even realizing it. The herald is a new energy that enters the story and makes it impossible for the hero to remain in status quo. The herald tips the scales. This could be in the form of a person, an event, a condition or just information that shifts the hero’s balance and changes her world, as a result. Nothing will ever be the same.

The herald delivers the call to adventure. In Star Wars, Ben Kenobi, who also serves as Luke Skywalker’s mentor, issues the call when he invites Luke to join him on his mission to Alderaan. The herald also provides the hero with motivation.

The Threshold Guardian

As his title aptly describes, this archetype guards the threshold of “Separation from the Ordinary World” on the hero’s journey to attain his “prize” and achieve his destiny. Threshold guardians are usually not the main antagonist. In the Harry Potter series, this role may be fulfilled by Malfoy, Snape or Filch, even; while the main antagonist is provided, of course, by the character of Voldemort.

Threshold guardians spice up the story by providing obstacles the hero must overcome. They help to round-out the hero’s journey and develop his character arc. In many cases, they may even be more interesting than the main villain. In rare cases, the threshold guardian may, in fact, be a secret helper, placed in the hero’s path to test his ability and commitment to his journey. Ultimately, this is the role of the threshold guardian: to test the hero on her path.

A hero succeeds when she recognizes a threshold guardian as providing an opportunity to strengthen her powers, or resolve her will. Threshold guardians aren’t defeated so much as incorporated by the hero, as she learns their tricks, absorbs them and goes on. “Ultimately”, says Vogler, “fully evolved heroes feel compassion for their apparent enemies and transcend rather than destroy them.”

The Shape Shifter

The shape shifter archetype adds dramatic tension to the story and provides the hero with a puzzle to solve. This archetype serves as “a catalyst for change and a symbol of the psychological urge to transform”, according to Vogler. The shape shifter can seem one thing and in fact be another. They are often mendacious and crafty.

The shape shifter brings doubt and suspense to the story and tests the hero’s abilities to discern her path. The hero often evolves through her interactions with this slippery character. The character of the Palpatine in Star Wars appears good and is really evil. Even the character Yoda in Star Wars, is a shape shifter, initially masking his ancient wisdom with a foolish childlike appearance when Luke first encounters him.

The Shadow
The monster under the bed, repressed feelings, deep trauma, a festering guilt; these all possess the dark energy of the shadow. This is the dark force of the unexpressed, unrealized, rejected, feared aspects of the hero and represented by the main antagonist or villain. The shadow challenges the hero in ways far more powerful than the threshold guardian. Voldermort in the Harry Potter series; Darth Vader in Star Wars; the aliens in War of the Worlds. These are all shadows and worthy opponents for the hero, bringing out the best in her and usually demanding the ultimate in self-sacrifice (the hero’s destiny).

The Trickster

Practically every Shakespearian play contains a jester or fool, who not only serves as comic relief but as commentator. This is because tricksters are often witty and clever. The comedy of most successful comedians touches upon the pulse of a culture by offering commentary that is truism.

This article is an excerpt from The Fiction Writer: Get Published, Write Now!” Starfire World Syndicate), May 2009 (Chapter J).

Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Stumble This Post

“Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost.” — Dante Alighieri (Divine Comedy)

“Summoned or not, the god will come.” — Motto over the door of Carl Jung’s house

According to Christopher Vogler (author of The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers) “all stories consist of a few common structural elements found universally in myths, fairy tales, dreams, and movies. They are known collectively as The Hero’s Journey.”

The Hero’s Journey is essentially the three-act structure of the ancient Greek play, handed down to us thousands of years ago and consisting of Beginning, Middle, and End (also known as Opening, Development, Conclusion or “the decision to act”, “the action”, and “the consequences of the action”).

Dating from before history, the Hero’s Journey duplicates the steps of the “Rite of Passage” and is a process of self-discovery and self-integration. The Hero’s Journey is a concept drawn from the depth psychology of Swiss psychologist Carl Jung and the scholar and mythologist Joseph Campbell, author of The Hero with a Thousand Faces. Jung proposed that symbols appear to us when there is a need to express what thought cannot think or what is only divined or felt. Jung discovered reoccurring symbols among differing peoples and cultures, unaffected by time and space. He described these shared symbols as archetypes which are irrepressible, unconscious, pre-existing forms of the inherited structure of the psyche and manifested themselves spontaneously anywhere, anytime. Campbell suggested that these mythic images lay at the depth of the unconscious where humans are no longer distinct individuals, where our minds widen and merge into the mind of humankind. Where we are all the same.

Campbell articulated the life principles embedded in the structure of stories. He recognized that myths weren’t just abstract theories or quaint ancient beliefs but practical models for understanding how to live. Ultimately, the hero’s journey is the soul’s search for home. It is a long and tortuous journey of the soul seeking enlightenment-redemption-salvation only to find it by returning “home” (though, often not the home they’d previously envisioned). It is a journey we all take, in some form.

Heroes are agents of change. In The Hero with a Thousand Faces, Joseph Campbell defines the hero as “the champion not of things to become but of things becoming; the dragon to be slain by him is precisely the monster of the status quo.” The hero’s task has always been to bring new life to an ailing culture, says Carol S. Pearson, author of The Hero Within. Julia Cameron reiterates this in her book, The Artist’s Way, when she describes the concept of art as a healing journey (not just for the individual but for a culture). This is because the writer/artist changes society by changing themselves.

In The Writer’s Journey: Mythic Structure for Writers, Christopher Vogler tells writers that we are “storytellers.” He says that “the best of them have utilized the principles of myth to create masterful stories that are dramatic, entertaining, and psychologically true.” Vogler goes on to say that “the Hero’s Journey is not an invention, but an observation. Vogler suggests “that the Hero’s Journey is nothing less than a handbook for life, a complete instruction manual in the art of being human.” This is why the Hero’s Journey model for writing is so relevant; because it appeals to all readers. We are all on a journey.

In some versions of the Holy Grail story, relates Pearson, the hero reaches a huge chasm with no apparent way to get across to the Grail castle. The space is too great for him to jump across. Then he remembers the Grail teaching that instructs him to step out in faith. As he puts one foot out into the abyss, a bridge magically appears and he is saved.

Anyone who has left a job, school, or a relationship has stepped out into that abyss, separating them from the familiar world they’ve known.

Just as “the knights of King Arthur’s Round Table set off to seek the Holy Grail,” says Mary Henderson, author of Star Wars: The Magic of Myth, “the great figures of every major religion have each gone on a ‘vision quest’, from Moses’ journey to the mountain, to Jesus’ time in the desert, Muhammad’s mediations in the mountain cave, and Buddha’s search for enlightenment that ended under the Bodhi tree.”

The journey, and the abyss, is often not a physical adventure, adds Henderson, but a spiritual one, “as the hero moves from ignorance and innocence to experience and enlightenment.”

This article is an excerpt from Nina Munteanu’s The Fiction Writer: Get Published, Write Now! (Starfire World Syndicate)

Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Stumble This Post

So, I’d like to share what I’ve learned over the years (some of the very same comments that have been made of my work, I am sharing back with you). I’ll be providing you my advice in three parts: 1) characters; 2) language; and 3) structure.

Let’s start with characters, since they are in my opinion, the most important part of a novel:

Characters carry the theme of the book. Each character needs to have a role in advancing the plot and/or theme; each character needs a reason to be there. A character therefore needs to be distinctive and usually shows some character development (as story arc) from beginning to end of story. Your characters are the most important part of your book (more so than the plot or premise). Through them your book lives and breathes. Through them your premise, your plot (which is essentially just a way to create problems for your characters to live out their development) and story come alive. Through them you achieve empathy and commitment from the reader and his/her willingness to keep reading to find out what’s going to happen next: if the reader doesn’t invest in the characters, they won’t really care what happens next.

Characters need to be real. They come to life by giving them individual traits and real weaknesses and heroic qualities that are consistent and have qualities readers can recognize and empathize with. You play these against each other to achieve drama. For instance, a man who is afraid of heights but who must climb a mountain to save his love is far more compelling than one who is not; a military man who fears responsibility but must lead his team into battle; a scientist who is afraid of failure; etc.

Characters of beginning writers often suffer from lack of distinction, or purpose, and often simply clutter up a story. For a character to “come alive” their “voice” must be distinctive, unique. Give them distinctive body movements, dress, facial features and expressions that reveal character, inner feelings, emotions, fears, motivations, etc. Then keep them consistent. There are several techniques writers use to increase empathy for a character and distinctiveness. This includes use of third person POV, keeping the story with focus on fewer rather than many characters, creating character dossiers and keeping them consistent, providing each character a distinctive “voice” (figuratively), as in how they behave, say, react, etc. I’ll talk about these further down. Another way to make your characters distinct (and works to also tie into plot and theme) is to make your characters not get along. Make them argue, disagree (at least!), have suspicions, betray one another, laugh and ridicule, etc. By doing this you increase tension, conflict (two things every book requires) and you enlighten the reader into each of the characters involved. Make them fight or argue over what they believe in – or not. You need to describe your characters in effective brief but vivid language as the reader encounters them.

Here are some questions you need to ask about your characters:

1. if I can remove the character, will the book fall apart? (if not, you don’t need that character; they aren’t fulfilling a role in the book);

2. how does the character portray the major or minor theme of the book? (that’s what characters are there for)

3. what is the role of the character? (e.g., protagonist, antagonist, mentor, catalyst, etc.)

4. what is the story arc of the character? Does he or she develop, change, do they learn something by the end? If not, they will be two-dimensional and less interesting

5. what major obstacle(s) must the character overcome?

6. who are your major protagonist(s) (the main character who changes the most)?

7. who are your major antagonist(s) (those who provide trouble for your protagonists, the source of conflict, tension, the obstacle: one of their own?

8. what’s at stake: for the world (plot); for each individual (Theme) and how do these tie together? Every character has a role to fulfill in the plot and to other characters. Don’t be afraid to totally remove characters if they do not fulfill a role.

To summarize, each character is there for a purpose and this needs to be made apparent to the reader (intuitively through characterization, their failings, weaknesses, etc.). Make them bleed, hurt, cry, feel. This needs to be clear to the reader, who wants to empathize with some of them and hate others. How characters interact with their surroundings and each other creates tension, a key element to good storytelling. Tension, of course builds further with the additional conflict of protagonist with antagonists. But, in truth, it’s more fun to read about the tension from WITHIN a group that’s supposed to be together. Think of Harry Potter and what was juicy there… It wasn’t really Voldemort … it was what went on at Hogwarts between Harry and his friends and not-so-friends. That is what makes a story memorable; that is what makes a story something you can’t put down until you’ve finished it.

This is an adapted excerpt from The Alien’s Practical Guide to Cool Writing(Pixl Press), available through this site or through www.pixlpresscanada.com.

To be continued…

Buzz This Post Delicious Digg This Post Stumble This Post