Showing posts with label dramatic structure. Show all posts
Showing posts with label dramatic structure. Show all posts

Saturday, February 2, 2013

What "Watchmen" Can Teach You About Story Structure

Cover art for the 1987 U.S. (right) and U.K. (...
Cover art for the 1987 U.S. (right) and U.K. (left) collected editions of Watchmen, published by DC Comics and Titan Books (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
The ol' deadline doom is upon me once again.  Here's a favorite article from 2009:

The first part of "Comics and Story Structure" discussed how Freytag’s Pyramid of dramatic structure can be an invaluable tool in plotting stories. To recap, the seven elements of the pyramid are:
  1. Exposition
  2. Inciting Incident
  3. Rising Action
  4. Climax
  5. Falling Action
  6. Resolution
  7. Denouement
They can be found in virtually every kind of story, including one of the most famous comic book stories of all time: the origin of Spider-Man.

“That’s fine,” you may say, “but what if my comic book story is a limited series or features a protagonist who isn't a cuddly, wall-crawling do-gooder?”

Structure is just as important for any type of story. The fact that some comics run for awhile on random plot lines and shock appeal does not invalidate the need for structure. Such comics sputter to a halt after awhile or degenerate into a neverending series of "character arcs" that lack any real development. Comics that operate this way usually get cancelled or relaunched, or a new writer comes in to “fix” it—often by starting a new story that lacks structure.

Structure, Stories, and Real Life

Why is structure so important? The answer can be found in Thomas Pope’s book, Good Scripts, Bad Scripts: Learning the Craft of Screenwriting Through 25 of the Best and Worst Films in History. Though written for screenwriters, Pope’s work is essential to comic book writers, as well. In his introduction, Pope reflects,"[L]ife is just one damned thing after another, without apparent structure or meaning. ... Art doesn't try to imitate life, but rather distills its essence to find and reveal the truth behind the lies, the meaning behind the meaningless, the structure within the randomness" (xix).

But what if you as a writer want to emphasize that life is, in fact, “one damned thing after another,” without meaning or structure? Many writers attempt to portray what they see as the world outside their windows, with all the grim, gritty, and amoral aspects (which might prompt one to suggest that they move to a nicer neighborhood).

Even if your story focuses on the darker side of heroes, structure can keep it from spinning out of control or sputtering to a halt eight issues into a 12-issue limited series. To illustrate this point, look at the granddaddy of all “dark” super-hero comics, Watchmen.

Watchmen and Dramatic Structure
Spoiler Warning: Aspects of Watchmen are discussed below. Proceed at your own risk.

Published as a 12-issue limited series in 1986-87 and later collected into a graphic novel, Watchmen set the tone for today's grim and gritty comics. But while many fledgling writers imitated the raw violence, sex, and language of Watchmen, they failed to learn a far more valuable lesson: Watchmen makes superb use of dramatic structure.

Writer Alan Moore put his own spin on Freytag’s Pyramid. For example, the story begins with the grisly aftermath of a murder—the “hero” known as The Comedian has been thrown through a penthouse window and his blood is being washed from the sidewalk below into the gutter. The Inciting Incident—the murder—has already occurred; this means that the opening scene begins the Rising Action. (Note that the 2009 film version departs from this beginning by showing the murder at the onset.)

But what about Exposition? Moore did not neglect this vital information. Some of it is filled in by the two detectives investigating the case; other information is discovered by another “hero,” Rorschach, as he conducts his own illegal investigation. By Page 8 of the first issue, we’re well oriented to the world of Watchmen and two of its main characters. Moore successfully weaves Exposition with Rising Action while showing us only glimpses of the Inciting Incident in flashback.

Packing and Unpacking Stories

A story, as Watchmen demonstrates, does not have to begin with Exposition. The writer can start the story anywhere along Freytag’s Pyramid. However, all of the dramatic elements should be present when the story is unpacked and laid out. (If you are familiar with Watchmen, unpack the rest of it yourself and see if you can locate the other elements.)

Good writers should also unpack their own stories and see where the dramatic beats lie. This will help you avoid “lumps” or flatness in the final product, regardless of whether it lasts one issue, 12 issues, or indefinitely.

Sources:
Moore, Alan, writer, and Dave Gibbons, artist. Watchmen. New York: DC Comics, 1986.

Pope, Thomas. Good Scripts, Bad Scripts: Learning the Craft of Screenwriting Through 25 of the Best and Worst Films in History. New York: Three Rivers, 1998.
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Saturday, September 22, 2012

Comics and Story Structure: How to Keep Your Plot in Focus

Spider-Man debuts: Amazing Fantasy #15 (Aug. 1...
Spider-Man debuts: Amazing Fantasy #15 (Aug. 1962). Cover art by Jack Kirby (penciler) and Steve Ditko (inker). (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

What Marvel Comics used to call "the dreaded deadline doom" is upon me.  It's Saturday, and I don't have a new topic to write about.  Here's a favorite from 2009.  This article originally appeared on Suite 101.

Use dramatic structure to keep your readers hangingnot yourself!

Losing control of the story is one of the worst things that can happen to a writer in any genre, but it is especially perilous for comic book writers who depend on exciting and often super-heroic tales to keep readers coming back month after month, year after year. 

But sooner or later, readers tire of stories that never end. Developments meant to hold readers’ interest can often backfire if they seem too far-fetched or appear “out of the blue.” One reason why writers resort to such tricks is because they haven’t thought out the story’s structure.

Freytag's Pyramid


Dramatic structure is a fairly simple device to keep the writer on track, regardless of story length. Structure requires the writer to know the beginning, middle, and end of her story, and to recoognize when she has reached each point.
Freytag's pyramid
Freytag's pyramid (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

While there are many ways of looking at story structure, one of the most useful patterns is Freytag’s Pyramid. Named after Gustav Freytag, the 19th century novelist and dramatist who devised it, Freytag’s Pyramid divides the elements of a story into five (sometimes seven) categories and identifies the function of each element.

Many graphic representations and explanations of the pyramid can be found online, but to illustrate its usefulness in writing comic books, let’s look at one of the most popular comic book stories of all time.




Spinning Webs and Analyzing Stories

Spoiler Warning: This section analyzes the origin of Spider-Man. If you are not familiar with the origin and don’t want to know how it ends, proceed at your own risk.

Originally published in Amazing Fantasy # 15, August 1962, the origin of Spider-Man has been told and retold countless times. Some details have been embellished, added, and altered in subsequent comics and even films, but notice how the underlying structure developed by writer Stan Lee and artist Steve Ditko remains intact:
  • Exposition (What information does the reader need to know in order to understand the story?)
Peter Parker, science nerd, is shy around girls, picked on by jocks, and doted on by Aunt May and Uncle Ben.
  • Inciting Incident (What happens to disrupt the character's normal life?)
Peter is bitten by a radioactive spider.
  • Rising Action (Things either start going well for the hero or poorly, depending on the type of story you are telling.)
Peter discovers that he has powers and creates his Spider-Man costume. He tries to cash in on his abilities by wrestling.
  • Climax (This is often a moment of truth, a moment when our hero’s fortunes change.)
Peter refuses to stop a burglar.
  • Falling Action (The reversal of Rising Action; if things were going well before, they go poorly now, or vice versa.)
Returning home, Peter learns that Uncle Ben has been killed by an intruder. As Spider-Man, Peter tracks the killer to a warehouse and fights him.
  • Resolution (How does the story end?)
Peter discovers to his horror that the killer is the same burglar he allowed to get away.

  • Denouement (What is the outcome of the story?)

Peter learns that “with great power comes great responsibility” and vows to use his powers to help others.

Not every story will fit into the pattern as neatly as Spider-Man’s origin, and there is room for some interpretation. (Does the true climax occur when Spidey confronts the burglar?) But the pattern itself gives the story power and meaning. It tells us when the story ends and why it is significant.

Without a solid structure, Spidey could be chasing the burglar through a 12-issue maxi-series with numerous crossovers by way of the Avengers and never get a resolution. Or if the resolution does come, it might be delayed for so long that the readers who have stuck with you have forgotten its significance.

Try plotting your own story on Freytag’s Pyramid. Use one or two sentence descriptions to identify the most important actions that take place in each category. Look for a strong climax and resolution. Then add subplots, cross-overs, and other frills as needed.

Source:

Lee, Stan, writer, and Steve Ditko, artist. “Spider-Man!” Amazing Fantasy 15 (Aug. 1962).


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Saturday, June 30, 2012

When Heroes Battle—And It Works! Examining “The Avengers/Defenders Clash”



Avengers # 116. ™  © Marvel.

Summer is upon us, which means super-hero comics publishers roll out their latest mega-crossover extravaganzas—story lines which usually encompass several titles.

Crossovers have become a clichĂ© these days.  Many fans complain that the stories are seldom worth the effort to buy, yet they buy them anyway—hence the reason Marvel and DC keep publishing them.

I wrote about the classic “Avengers/Defenders Clash” briefly a few months ago, but I thought it worth taking another look at this model crossover. 

“The Avengers/Defenders Clash,” alternating between Avengers # 115-118 and Defenders # 8-11, back in 1973, was written by Steve Englehart and principally drawn by Bob Brown (Avengers) and Sal Buscema (Defenders).

The premise of the story is simple and time-tested:  two teams of super-heroes are tricked into fighting each other.

However, “The Avengers/Defenders Clash” holds up today for one simple reason: Englehart and his collaborators adhered to some very simple principles of storytelling and structure—principles any writer can use to craft a classic.

1. Limit your story’s scope.

Modern crossovers sometimes involve every title a company publishes; while such an approach is intended to be epic in scope, it often creates the opposite effect: Having so many heroes and villains causes the story to lose its focus.

Englehart limited his crossover to just two series, The Avengers and The Defenders. While events from other series and past stories are referenced (the use of the Evil Eye from Fantastic Four, Loki’s blinding in Mighty Thor), these events merely form the backdrop of the present story. “The Avengers/Defenders Clash” does not crossover with any other books.

As a result, our focus remains on the heroes of these two teams, even though the stakes are very high. The main villain, Dormammu, wants nothing less than world domination—and, at one point, he appears close to getting it. 

But rather than bringing in a world full of heroes to oppose him, Englehart restricts the main action to the membership of the two teams. Other heroes appear only in cameos, dealing with collateral damage.

2. Give the heroes a goal worth pursuing.

“The Avengers/Defenders Clash” grew out of an earlier story, Defenders # 4, which guest-starred the Black Knight, a sometimes Avenger. After a villain turns Black Knight into stone, it becomes the Defenders’ quest to restore their new ally to human form.

Helping a friend is always a worthy goal.  Such a purpose makes your readers care about your heroes and want them to succeed.  It also gives readers an “end goal” to keep in mind—something to maintain suspense while the other events of the story unfold.

(In Hitchcockian terms, the Black Knight becomes the “MacGuffin”—the thing the heroes of the story seek.)

In a twist, Englehart gives the Avengers the same motive.  Having not heard from the Black Knight in some time, they investigate and learn of the Defenders’ involvement in his disappearance. 

Thus, the two teams want the same thing even though they don’t know it.

3. Let the characters drive the plot instead of the other way around.

“The Avengers/Defenders Clash” succeeded because the characters behave true to themselves.

The Defenders, then a new team, consisted of six anti-heroes (Doctor Strange, the Hulk, the Sub-Mariner, the Valkyrie, the Silver Surfer, and Hawkeye) who had either clashed with the Avengers or were regarded as mysterious by them.  (Hawkeye, a former Avenger, had recently left that team in a huff.)    

The Defenders valued their secrecy and weren’t keen on asking other heroes for help.

The Avengers, one of the most established and best known Marvel teams, represented law and order in the way the Defenders might represent a clandestine, underground force. The nature of the two teams was already boiling over with the possibility of conflict.

Englehart also relied upon individual characters behaving in accordance with their personalities
and previous experiences. Thus, the Vision loses control when an accident triggered by the Silver Surfer injures Vizh’s new love, the Scarlet Witch.  The Vision’s rage actually sets the conflict in motion.

The Vision -- losing it.
Likewise, the turning point occurs when two characters who once fought on the same side during World War II stop fighting long enough to realize they've been duped. No other two characters could have come to this realization, or arrived at it in the same manner.

4. Know when your story should have a turning point and a conclusion.

For a story that features fourteen heroes and two villains, “The Avengers/Defenders Clash”  follows a surprisingly traditional story structure: it has an inciting incident, rising action, a climax, falling action, a denouement, and a resolution.   

And even though the story stretches out over nine issues, it keeps moving.

The climax (turning point) of the story occurs when the two aforementioned characters—Captain America and the Sub-Mariner—cease hostilities and realize they’ve been misled.  From this point onwards, the battle between the two teams effectively ends and they can focus on who set them against each other and why.
Cap and Subby come to an understanding.

 (In an effective move, Englehart doesn’t fully reveal this climax until after the two mightiest members—Thor and the Hulk—have had a chance to clash. The gathering of the two teams is then handled in flashback.)

Likewise, the conclusion effectively wraps up the tale. Here, Englehart took necessary shortcuts by removing most of the heroes from the battle very quickly. It all comes down to one hero, acting in cahoots with another, surprising character, to win the day.

Some may complain that their favorite hero is taken out of the fight too quickly. But Englehart does not play favorites. Just as limiting the scope of his story helped increase the tension, the conclusion magnifies that tension: 

The fate of the world comes down to one hero. 

Even in a team book, sometimes a hero must go it alone. (And, in a nice twist, the hero who saves the day is the one who had contributed so little to the story until now.)

5. When all is said and done, something must change for one or more characters.

A story is traditionally defined as one character’s journey from how he or she was to how he or she became. Without change, the story has no purpose; the journey is meaningless.

What changed here? The Avengers now know of the Defenders’ existence, and the two teams part as uneasy friends. But that change alone does not make the story worthwhile.

No, the actual change happens with the Black Knight.

Remember him? The MacGuffin?

Defenders # 11 serves as the “epilogue” of the story. The battle between the two teams over, the villains vanquished, it is now up to the Defenders to return to their original task: restoring the Black Knight.

(The Avengers are absent from this issue, except for the beginning. It would have been nice, I suppose, had they participated in resolving the fate of their own teammate, but, in a show of trust, they leave it in the Defenders’ hands.)

In a rather improbable plot twist, the Defenders catch up with the Black Knight’s soul in the distant past—the era of the Crusades, to be precise—where he occupies the body of his ancestor and wages war on behalf of King Richard the Lion-Hearted.   

Turns out the Black Knight wants to stay, so the Defenders return to the present without him.

Though disposing of the Black Knight in this manner may seem awfully convenient, the “epilogue” actually works. 

Had the Black Knight returned to the present and resumed his sporadic super-hero career, nothing indeed would have changed. By having the Black Knight say goodbye to his friends, Englehart gave the story a wistful, emotional ending (an ending that resonates even more when most of the Defenders, having accomplished their goal, part ways).

And that emotional connection—that feeling that something significant has happened—is what makes any story worthwhile.


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