By K. M. Weiland
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The Thing Your Character Wants Vs. The Thing Your Character Needs
Introduction
Here is the continuation of the break-down of the six foundational ingredients to character arcs, which can then be mixed to the author’s needs according to whichever arc has been chosen for the story.
The Thing Your Character Wants vs. The Thing Your Character Needs
The Lie Your Character Believes is the reason for all character arcs. After all, if everything’s hunky-dunky, why change? We might think of the Lie as the cavity in a tooth. Everything might look shiny and white on the outside, but inside there’s decay. If the character is ever to be happy, he’s going to have to do some drilling to excavate the rot in his life.
But, like most of us with a rotten tooth, he’s in denial. Even thought he keeps biting on that tooth and pushing at it with his tongue, he doesn’t want to admit he’s got a problem. In order to avoid facing the painful truth of his Lie, he wants to pretend the problem is something else. Melanie Anne Phillips and Chris Huntley, once again:
…we know that characters often work not toward the real solution but to a perceived solution. And characters frequently grapple with a problem that is ultimately recognized as only a symptom of the real problem.
The Lie plays out in your character’s life, and your story, through the conflict between the Thing He Needs (the Truth) and the Thing He Wants (the perceived cure for the symptoms of the Lie).
What Your Character Wants
The first intersection of character arc and plot is found in the protagonist’s goal. What does he want? What’s his major story goal? World domination? A wife? To survive? To die? To get a raise?
Every story starts with the character’s goal. Simple enough, right? But that’s just the plot. What about character?
That, my friends, is where this gets interesting. It isn’t enough for us to create a story goal that’s just a surface goal. To intertwine with the character arc, this goal has to be something that matters to the character on a deeper level. He can’t just want world domination and/or a wife because, hey, who doesn’t? He has to want it for a soul-deep reason, one even he may not fully comprehend.
If you guessed that the Lie is at the root of that soul-deep reason, then you guessed right.
If only on a subconscious level, the character realizes he has a problem in his life. His problems may be evident in his miserable standard of living (Charles Dickens’s Little Dorrit), or his problem may be an inner discontentment that manifests even in the midst of a seemingly perfect external life (Jon Turteltaub’s The Kid). But what he doesn’t realize, subconsciously or otherwise, is the true solution—the Thing He Needs. Nope, he thinks that if he can just have what he Wants, all will be well.
What Is the Thing Your Character Wants?
The Thing Your Character Wants will almost always be something external, something physical. He’s trying to salve his inner emptiness with exterior solutions. His problem is depression, but he’s busily putting a cast on his arm. He thinks that if he can just have that new job, that new trophy wife, that new set of golf clubs, everything will be perfect. He’ll be rich, powerful, loved, respected—and fulfilled.
Here we are dissing The Thing Your Character Wants, but, really, it may be a perfectly worthy goal in its own right. He might want to:
- Be king. (Thor)
- Be loved. (Jane Eyre)
- Study dinosaur bones in peace. (Jurassic Park)
- Have a real home with his mother. (Secondhand Lions)
- Be Andy’s favorite toy. (Toy Story)
- Gain enough money to be independent and happy. (Three Kings)
- Graduate college. (Green Street Hooligans)
- Be cured of mental problems. (What About Bob?)
Nothing wrong with any of those. But the problem for these characters is that they’re pursuing goals that are furthering their enslavement to their Lies. They’re not pursuing happiness and fulfillment holistically by addressing the Lie. Rather, they’re trying to get what they want in spite of their refusal to buck up and look deep into the darkness of their own souls.
What Your Character Needs
In a word, the Thing Your Character Needs is the Truth. He needs the personalized antidote to his Lie. This is the most important thing in his life. If he misses out on this Truth, he is never going to be able to grow in a positive way. He’s either going to remain stuck in his current internal predicament forever, or he’s going to digress into an even worse state (as we’ll see when we study the Negative Arc later on).
Your character will spend most of the story pursuing his outer goal—the Thing He Wants. But what the story is really about, on a deeper level, is his growth into a place where he, first subconsciously, then consciously, recognizes and pursues his inner goal—the Thing He Needs.
What Is the Thing Your Character Needs?
The Thing Your Character Needs usually won’t be something physical—although it can (and usually should) take on a physical or visual manifestation by the end of the story. The Thing Your Character Needs is usually going to be nothing more than a realization. In some stories, this realization may change nothing about his external life, but it will always transform his perspective of himself and the world around him, leaving him more capable of coping with his remaining external problems.
The Thing Your Character Needs may preclude the Thing He Wants. He will invariably have to come to a point where he’s willing to sacrifice What He Wants in order to secure What He Needs. Sometimes the story will have to end on that bittersweet note of interior gain and exterior loss. But, other times, once the character has embraced the Thing He Needs, he will then be all the more empowered in his pursuit of What He Wants—allowing him to harmonize both his inner and outer goals in the finale.
The Thing Your Character Needs might be to:
- Learn humility and compassion. (Thor)
- Embrace spiritual freedom. (Jane Eyre)
- Protect the living future over the dead past. (Jurassic Park)
- Have faith in people. (Secondhand Lions)
- Be able to share Andy’s love. (Toy Story)
- Find a cause worth fighting for. (Three Kings)
- Find the courage to stand up for himself. (Green Street Hooligans)
- Be loved for who he is. (What About Bob?)
As you can see, these are all incorporeal concepts. But they are all things that can be demonstrated physically and visually because they demand the characters act upon their new belief, once they’ve claimed it.
Further Examples of the Thing the Character Wants and the Thing The Character Needs
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: The Thing Scrooge Wants is to make as much money as possible, no matter how many people he has to run over to get there. The Thing He Needs is to remember that true wealth is the love of his fellow human beings.
Cars directed by John Lasseter: The Thing Lightning McQueen Wants is to become the world’s most famous racecar by winning the Piston Cup and becoming the new face of Dinoco. The Thing He Needs is to let others into his life by helping them and allowing them to help him.
Questions to Ask About the Thing the Character Wants and the Thing the Character Needs
1. How is the Lie holding your character back?
2. How is the Lie making your character unhappy or unfulfilled?
3. What Truth does your character Need to disprove the Lie?
4. How will he learn this Truth?
5. What does your character Want more than anything?
6. Is the Thing He Wants his plot goal?
7. Does he believe the Thing He Wants will solve his personal problems?
8. Is the Thing He Wants holding him back from the Thing He Needs?
9. Does the Thing He Needs preclude his gaining the Thing He Wants—or will he only be able to gain the Thing He Wants after he has found the Thing He Needs?
10. How will his life be different once he embraces the Thing He Needs?
Your protagonist’s inner conflict is all about this silent war between his Want and his Need. But it’s also the gasoline in the engine of the outer conflict. If you have these two elements working in concert, you can bet you’ll also have plot and character well on their way to perfect harmony as well.
https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/character-arcs-3/
Your Character’s Ghost
What is your character’s ghost, and how does it affect his character arc? Once you’ve figured out the Lie Your Character Believes, as well as Thing He Wants and the Thing He Needs, the next question you need to ask yourself is: Why does the character believe the Lie in the first place? To find the answer, start looking for something ghostly in your character’s past!
If there’s one solid rule in fiction, it’s that every effect must have a cause. If your character is in need of undergoing a change arc, then one of your first tasks is figuring out why he needs to change. What happened to him to cause him to embrace this obviously damaging Lie?
Humans are survivors. We’ll do anything we can to move toward life, comfort, and peace. But we’re also a generally self-destructive lot. We can focus so tightly on one aspect of survival that we sacrifice other elements. In our quest to be top dog in our chosen careers, we can sacrifice our emotional health through poor relationship choices and our physical health through poor lifestyle choices. Worse than that, we’re usually deliberately blind to our destructive behaviors. We rationalize our actions and convince ourselves—rightly or wrongly—that the end justifies the means.
In other words we lie to ourselves. But there’s always a reason for that Lie. There’s always a reason why we value survival in one aspect of our lives over survival in another. Sometimes these reasons are obvious (you have to earn enough money to eat, even it means busting your back day in and day out); sometimes the reasons are so obscure even you don’t recognize them (you have to work like a dog to earn a six-figure income or you’ll feel like the loser your father always said you were). Find the reason, and you’ll find the ghost.
Your Character’s Ghost
“Ghost” is moviespeak for something in your character’s past that haunts him. You may also see it sometimes referred to as the “wound.” In their fabulous Negative Trait Thesaurus, Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi explain:
Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie—an untruth that the character believes about himself…. For example, if a man believes he is unworthy of love (the lie) because he was unable to stop his fiancée from being shot during a robbery (the wound), he may adopt attitudes, habits, and negative traits that make him undesirable to other women.
Often, the wound will be something shocking and traumatic (such as the massacre of the French and Indians at Ft. Charles that haunts Benjamin Martin in Roland Emmerich’s The Patriot or Jason Bourne’s forgotten past as an assassin in Robert Ludlum’s The Bourne Identity), but it can also be something smaller and more ordinary, such as a breakup (Jane Austen’s Persuasion), a stressful parental relationship (Barry Levinson’s Rain Man), or physical inferiority (Mike Wazowski in Dan Scanlon’s Monsters University).
The bigger and more destructive the Lie, the more shocking and impactful the ghost should be. Or to flip that on its head: the bigger the ghost, the bigger the Lie, the bigger the arc.
The ghost will often be a part of your character’s backstory, and readers will discover it only bit by bit. In these cases, the ghost can often provide a tantalizing mystery. The why behind your character’s belief in the Lie will hook readers’ curiosity, and you can string them along for most the book with only little clues, until finally the ghost is presented in a grand reveal toward the end.
In other stories, we may never discover the specifics about the ghost. The character may have an obviously significant past, but it remains cloaked in secrecy. Or his past, in itself, may not seem so interesting, even though it obviously contributed in some way to his Lie, but the author chooses not reveal it, for whatever reason.
And in still other stories, the ghost’s origin may be dramatized in the First Act, in a prologue of sorts. This is particularly prominent in origins stories, such as Sam Raimi’s first Spider-Man movie and Christopher Nolan’s Batman Begins. In these instances, the ghost segment is a story unto itself that explains the protagonist’s motivations, before the book or movie moves on to the real story. In these stories, the character probably won’t start out believing in a Lie in Chapter One. Only once the ghost has appeared and changed his normal world will he find himself struggling to justify his new mindsets and actions. In The Writer’s Journey, Christopher Vogler notes:
Other stories show the hero as essentially complete until a close friend or relative is kidnapped or killed in the first act.
What Is Your Character’s Ghost?
Your character’s ghost may take any number of forms. The ghost may be:
- The promise that he would grow up to be king, regardless his personal merits. (Thor)
- Her aunt’s refusal to love her.(Jane Eyre)
- [Unstated.] (Jurassic Park)
- His mother’s pathological deceit.(Secondhand Lions)
- Knowledge of what happens to unloved toys. (Toy Story)
- Disillusionment about an Army career. (Three Kings)
- An absentee father. (Green Street Hooligans)
- A divorce. (What About Bob?)
The ghost may be as simple as someone else’s lie to the protagonist (Jane Eyre’s aunt tells her she’s wicked and worthless, and, deep down, Jane believes her). The ghost may be something obviously horrific that the protagonist did (as in The Patriot) or that was done to him or someone he loved (as in Spider-Man), or the ghost may be something the protagonist embraces without realizing the damage it’s causing (as in Thor). The key thing to remember about identifying the ghost is that it will always be the underlying cause for the protagonist’s belief in the Lie. For more inspiration, check out Angela Ackerman’s “7 Common Wound Themes.”
Examples of Your Character’s Ghost
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: Scrooge has a superfluity of literal ghosts flying around his story, and one of them—the Ghost of Christmas Past—gives us a front-row seat to the figurative ghost in Scrooge’s backstory. Turns out he had a wretched childhood, thanks to a father who never showed him affection and locked him away at a boarding school, even during the Christmas holidays.
Cars directed by John Lasseter: We’re never told what Lightning McQueen’s ghost is. The race commentators say, “The rookie sensation came into the season unknown”—and that is largely how he comes into the movie. We never discover why he’s so intent on being free from depending on others.
Questions to Ask About Your Character’s Ghost
1. Why does your character believe the Lie?
2. Is there a notable event in his past that has traumatized him?
3. If not, will there be a notable event in the First Act that will traumatize him?
4. Why does the character nourish the Lie?
5. How will he benefit from the Truth?
6. How “big” is your character’s ghost? If you made it bigger, would you end up with a stronger arc?
7. Where will you reveal your character’s ghost? All at once early on? Or piece by piece throughout the story, with big reveal toward the end?
8. Does your story need the ghost to be revealed? Would it work better if you never revealed it?
Backstory is always one of the most interesting aspects of a character. In constructing yours, pay special attention to the ghost. If you know what started your character’s belief in the Lie, you’re halfway to helping him overcome it.
https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/character-arcs-4/
The Normal World
People are largely defined by the microcosms in which they live. We are inevitably shaped by our surroundings, either because of the ways we fit in or the ways we don’t. Just as inevitably, we are defined by our surroundings because they reflect our choices and limitations. How we came to be someplace, why we choose to remain there, or why we are forced to remain even if we don’t want to—all these factors reveal interesting facets of our personalities, values, strengths, and weaknesses.
In a story, the Normal World will play an important role in the first quarter of your story—the First Act. This entire segment can basically be summarized as “set-up,” and the Normal World plays a vital role in grounding the story in a concrete setting. Even more important, the Normal World creates the standard against which all the personal and plot changes to come will be measured. Without this vivid opening example of what will change in your character’s life, the rest of the arc will lack definition and potency.
The Normal World
At its most basic level, the Normal World is—as its name suggests—a setting. This is the place in which your story opens. It is a place in which your character has found contentment—or at least complacency.
Possible Manifestations of the Normal World
- The Normal World may seem wonderful on the surface (as in Tim Burton’s Edward Scissorhands or Kurt Wimmer’s Equilibrium), only to have its perfect façade cracked wide open, along with the character’s misconceptions about the world and himself.
- Or the Normal World may be safe but boring, with the protagonist chafing ineffectually against it without making any real effort to move on with his life (as in George Lucas’s A New Hope or Robert Schwentke’s RED).
- Or the Normal World may be pretty lousy, but the protagonist is at least temporarily stuck there against his will (as in John Sturges’s The Great Escape or Steven Spielberg’s Saving Private Ryan).
- Or the Normal World may be legitimately great, but the protagonist isn’t yet ready to appreciate it or is being temporarily held back by the Normal World’s advantages (as in L. Frank Baum’s The Wizard of Oz or Frank Capra’s It’s a Wonderful Life).
- Or the Normal World may present one set of challenges, which the protagonist finds himself unequipped to deal with until after he’s experienced life beyond the Normal World (as in Pete Docter and Bob Peterson’s Up and Chris Buck and Jennifer Lee’s Frozen).
The Symbolism of the Normal World
The point is that the Normal World is a place the protagonist either doesn’t want to leave or can’t leave. It’s the staging ground for his grand adventure. Most of the time he will take the Normal World for granted and feel it’s going to go on and on forever, but sometimes he’ll start the story knowing the Normal World is just a temporary stopover (as in James Cameron’s Avatar).
Think of the Normal World as a symbolic representation of your character’s inner world. The Normal World needs to dramatize the Lie the Character Believes. It needs to empower the character in that Lie, so he has no reason to look beyond it. Only when the Normal World is challenged or abandoned at the First Plot Point is the protagonist’s belief in that Lie shaken.
How to Create Your Story’s Normal World
In creating your story’s Normal World, first ask yourself what kind of world will provide the most logical backstory for why your character believes the Lie. Then consider how to enhance the Normal World by making it the comfiest place ever for that Lie to keep living. Note, however, this does not mean it necessarily has to be a comfy place for your protagonist. Sometimes it will seem to be outwardly comfy, but, deep down, the Lie is making him miserable.
Next, ask yourself how you can create a Normal World that will best contrast the “adventure world” to follow in the next two acts. Sometimes your protagonist will remain in the physical setting of the Normal World throughout the story (as in Pete Docter’s Monsters, Inc.), with only facets of the world changing (as when Boo’s arrival throws Monstropolis into chaos). Either way, you want to strive for the most dramatic contrast possible between the worlds, in order to provide your character with as much incentive as possible to enact his change.
The Normal World is important because it visibly proves to readers (it shows them) your protagonist’s “before” state. Either he’s going to have to change enough to move out of this destructive place, or he’s going to have to change enough to fit in and take advantage of this healthy place.
What is the Normal World?
Your story’s Normal World could be:
- A peaceful and prosperous planet—which is enabling his prideful misconceptions. (Thor)
- A stark and loveless childhood, first at her aunt’s, then at a boarding school for girls—which reinforces her belief in her unloveableness. (Jane Eyre)
- An archeological dig in perpetual need of funding—which doesn’t tie into his Lie but does prompt his acceptance of an otherwise unacceptable proposal, which advances the plot. (Jurassic Park)
- A rundown farm with two antisocial great-uncles—which at first reinforces his general fear of everything. (Secondhand Lions)
- Andy’s room, where he’s the boss—which reinforces his belief in the Lie. (Toy Story)
- The closing days of the Gulf War—which reinforces the devaluation of people and the disillusionment in industrialized war. (Three Kings)
- An American university—which reinforces his Lie by allowing him to be unjustly accused and expelled. (Green Street Hooligans)
- New York City—which reinforces the general neuroticism of the protagonist and contrasts with the motif of “taking a vacation from your problems.” (What About Bob?)
We have a great assortment of Normal Worlds here—everything from Thor’s awesome but personally unchallenging world, to the horrible world in which Jane Eyre is trapped until she finally escapes, to Secondhand Lions‘ seemingly awful Normal World, which, by the First Plot Point, begins to morph into something pretty wonderful.
Further Examples of the Normal World
A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens: Scrooge’s Normal World is introduced via his frigid counting house, where he would rather suffer through the cold than spend a few extra shillings on a bigger fire. His cold, money-driven world is further illustrated through his perception of London and the revelation of his equally cold and loveless home. It’s a visibly horrible world, in which Scrooge has convinced himself to be content in order to maintain his Lie and his pursuit of the Thing He Wants. The setting is a magnificently symbolic representation of Scrooge’s inner world—dark, cold, and lonely. Dickens’s time-travel element allows him to beautifully contrast the Normal World of the present with both brighter possibilities and even more horrific ones.
Cars directed by John Lasseter: At first glance, Lightning McQueen’s world seems pretty great—all glitter and glamour. He’s racing in the Piston Cup, the most important car race in the world, and it’s a delightful place of euphoric fans, raw adrenaline, and shining possibilities. It will stand in stark contrast to the slow and rusty world of Radiator Springs. But, for now, it seems to represent everything Lightning wants, even as it feeds his Lie and traps him in a downward spiral of selfishness and isolation.
Questions to Ask About the Normal World
1. What setting will open your story?
2. How will this setting change at the First Plot Point?
3. How can you contrast the Normal World with the “adventure world” to follow?
4. How does the Normal World dramatize or symbolize your character’s enslavement to the Lie?
5. How is the Normal World causing or empowering the Lie?
6. Why is your character in the Normal World?
7. If your character doesn’t want to leave the Normal World, what is helping him mask the discomfort caused by his Lie?
8. If your character wants to leave, what’s stopping him?
9. Will the character return to the Normal World at the end of the story?
10. If the Normal World is a legitimately good place, how will the protagonist need to change in order to appreciate it?
The Normal World presents you with the valuable opportunity to visually dramatize your character’s Lie. Take full advantage of your story’s Normal World and create an opening segment that will explode into readers’ minds and perfectly set up the adventure to follow.
https://www.helpingwritersbecomeauthors.com/character-arcs-6/
KC Storytellers 