Circle Around for Your Story's Success

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine


It seems like just yesterday we'd be flipping the pages of the latest Archie or Batman comic book and we would come across this headline:

"Tired of being picked on? Nobody picks on an ATLAS MAN!"

The cartoon accompanying this full-page ad showed a beach bully kicking sand at a skinny fellow (named Mac) and his girl.  After confronting and being threatened by the muscle-bound brute, Mac vows to get even some day.  In the next panel, he signs up for Charles Atlas' bodybuilding course, and in the end he becomes the hero of the beach.

The word balloons changed over the years, I noticed, so sometimes Mac's girl was sympathetic when he vowed revenge.  Other times she said something demeaning like, "Oh, don't let it bother you, little boy." Originally, the cartoon showed the aftermath of a now-powerful Mac knocking the beach bully out.  Over time, the advertisement eliminated that panel, probably because it promoted violence.  Or maybe Mac punched out his verbally abusive girlfriend off-screen.

The point is, in the full version of this miniature morality tale, we are given a definitive "before" and "after".  Before, Mac is picked on by a bully.  After, the underdog becomes top dog.

This classic Atlas ad is a simple but effective example of the full circle readers want in their stories. There has to be a situation that needs resolving, and by the end of the story that situation must be resolved.  Without either, there is no sense of accomplishment.

A time-tested method is to establish, at the beginning of the story, our hero in his/her current state (their "Ordinary World", as the experts call it).  We'll see them going about their normal routine in their normal circumstances so that we understand the status quo.  After that, things go topsy-turvy and the hero's world as they know it comes under siege by whatever problems the story dictates.  A series of ups and downs follow, until finally there is victory and we are rewarded with a scenario that hearkens us back to the original roots of the hero.

This return to the "ordinary world" will clarify the results of what has taken place and show how things—and hopefully the hero—have changed.  The hero doesn't physically have to return to their hometown with a parade waiting for them.  Sometimes the hero in fact cannot go back to their world, but an early vulnerability that is now a strength is easy to convey.

If the character arc has been apparent enough, it may not even be necessary to change a thing. A mere reminder of how things used to be could be sufficient.  Perhaps the hero was swimming at the beginning of the story.  Toward the end of the story, the hero is swimming again.  Same activity, but this time we know they possess a contentment they didn't have the first time.

Life itself affords us very few clear-cut befores and afters, so we find fulfillment in those we experience with our fictional friends.  Letting readers go full circle with the bookends of an obvious before and after is an easy and effective way to bulk up a skinny story.

Three's Company

by Gary Fearon, Creative Director, Southern Writers Magazine

Everyone knows that if you had a genie in a lamp, he would grant you three wishes.  A fair question would be, Why is it always three wishes?  The correct answer is, Because the number three is magic.

We all grew up on fairy tales and fables that reinforced the number three repeatedly: Goldilocks encountered three bowls of porridge, three chairs, three beds, and, ultimately, three bears. Jack climbed the beanstalk and collected three golden objects. Cinderella had a fairy godmother who evidently attended the same school as the genie, granting three wishes.

The Three Little Pigs matched wits with a big bad wolf who also knew the power of three, declaring that he would do three things: "I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house in."  He didn't include "and by the way, I'm gonna eat you," because that would have thrown off the rhythmic flow and was probably a given anyway.

Before crossing the street, we are taught to stop, look and listen. On the day that the fireman comes to our school, we are taught to stop, drop, and roll.  We are wired to remember things more easily when they come in threes.

No less than Solomon himself offered the phrase. "Eat, drink and be merry." The Declaration of Independence grants us the right to "Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness" here in the land of the Red, White and Blue. And isn't there romantic poetry in the pledge to "love, honor and obey"? 

Having grown up with an inherent affinity for trilogies, the audience finds reassurance in stories and quotations that deliver the goods in threes.  It took three ghosts to show Ebenezer Scrooge the error if his ways via visions of his past, present and future. Dorothy met up with three companions on her road trip to Oz, seeking a brain, a heart, and courage. The Three Stooges were a virtual three ring circus unto themselves.

The very storytelling structure of beginning, middle and end owes a debt to the rule of three, although it seems fairly impossible to have a middle without having a beginning and an end, when you stop and think about it. Nonetheless, we consciously build stories with the basic formula of 1) setting it up, 2) telling the story, and 3) wrapping it up.

There are, of course, other numbers that made their mark in literature and lingo, like the seven dwarfs or the Twelve Days of Christmas.  One could bring up the nineteen rings in Lord of the Rings, but technically the elves were allotted three, so there ya go. 

In any event, my observations today are merely a celebration of the number three.  Use its power however you see fit, inspired by its ability to add a little extra magic to the story you put your blood, sweat and tears into.

Speaking of stories: A cowboy, an astronaut, and a politician go into a bar...

The Value of a Good Bad Guy

by Gary Fearon, Southern Writers Creative Director

Captain Hook.  Long John Silver.  Hannibal Lecter.  Darth Vader.  The Wicked Witch of the West.  Dracula.  What do these, and countless other villains from literature and movies, have in common?  Yes, they all talk kinda funny.  But more importantly, each one is infinitely more intriguing than the hero of the story.

Nothing against Peter Pan, Luke Skywalker or our little runaway from Kansas, but the truth is, you could rewrite pretty much every one of these classics and put any character in the protagonist's seat, and the antagonist would still steal the show. 

A memorable villain can take a tale to epic proportions, even if the hero is an everyday Joe, or a boring do-gooder.  Did anyone ever really cheer for Dudley Do-Right?

Even if you've never read the book or seen the movie, you can probably tell me more about the whale in Moby Dick than you can the hero of that story.  Which would be whom, by the way?  Captain Ahab?  Ishmael?  It hardly matters, because either one is a mere sardine compared to the dramatic power of the great white whale.  Readers had to wade through too much information about the fishing industry when all they really wanted was a good shipwreck.

Despite all his cool transportation and wonderful toys, where would Batman really be without bigger-than-life archenemies to go to bat with?  Superheroes become superheroes by conquering supervillains. It's always disappointing when a bad guy in those stories is just a common street thug.  Even Dick Tracy was given crooks who at least looked weird.

A Joker for every generation: Cesar Romero (1966). Jack Nicholson (1989) and Heath Ledger (2008)

And it was only half in jest that I brought up villains having odd speech patterns. Silence of the Lamb's Hannibal Lecter's intensely calculated articulation contributed greatly to his manner of menace.  One feels he's so high above us on the intelligence scale that he can suck our mind right out of us.  The cackling of a witch or the grunts of a monster define them as creatures from our nightmares.  At the very least, a foreign accent tends to take us out of our own turf and into unfamiliar territory.

Not that every hero pales in comparison to his foes.  Indiana Jones's charisma and humor managed to outshine every nemesis. James Bond steals the screen no matter who's trying to shake and stir him. Name just about any detective or mystery series and the writer has taken care to give that hero or heroine enough personality to carry story after story.  But a memorable villain only makes it better.

The bottom line is, a good bad guy is good to find.  No matter who the star of your story is, give them a villain so unique and bigger than life that when your protagonist conquers them, they will earn the title of hero.