Day 55: Scale of Change Example—The Martian

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The Martian by Andy Weir presents an interesting example of the scale of change in a story with multiple parallel story lines. It shows how the true scale of both the problem and solution can unfold gradually:

  • Initially, when Mark Watney finds himself alone, it seems like it’s just his survival problem. This begins as a character portrait focusing on the specific actions he takes to “work the problem,” e.g., generating water to grow potatoes.

  • But once people at NASA learn he’s alive, it becomes the agency’s problem too. Leaders begin considering how to rescue him (while initially not updating his colleagues on the Hermes). This becomes a community tapestry, focusing on group tactics NASA leaders consider, including the plan to intercept him with the next mission.  

  • But when Watney’s plants die after a depressurization accident, there is no way he’ll survive until the next mission. It becomes an international cooperation problem within a larger community. The tapestry expands as China agrees to provide a booster to deliver food to Mars to save one person.

  • But when the rocket explodes and there is no way to provide food, it becomes a problem for the crew of the Hermes (with an assist by Rich Purnell and Mitch Henderson). Now we see we’re looking at a world story focusing on universal relationships between individuals, groups, and the entire universe. Ultimately, the story explores the question of human values and what we're willing to risk to save one life. 

The gradual revelation of the true scale of the story also shows how each scene involves processing different aspects of the problem: One of our own (colleague, employee, fellow citizen, fellow human) has survived a dangerous accident, but he is alone and will die if we do nothing.

  • Physical survival (air, food, water, shelter)

  • Technical challenges (communication, equipment)

  • Connection and belonging (choosing whom we empower)

  • Respect (identity and how we see ourselves and how we are seen)

  • Psychological endurance (isolation, maintaining hope)

  • Moral/philosophical questions (risk vs reward, individual vs group)

Each of these aspects forces Mark and others to confront their assumptions about what's possible and what matters most. The initial incident (being stranded) seemed to be about physical survival, but through processing all these aspects, they discover it's really about humanity's capacity for cooperation and sacrifice.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 54: Scale of Change

In the day 53 post, I wrote about viewing a story through the lens of change. In this post, I’d like to introduce the scale of change involved in a story and how we connect this to our story’s essence, the distillation of what's most important to us about our story, captured in a clear, pithy statement. (See the day 9 post for more on this).

Scale

When we talk about scale we mean both the problem and who is responsible for it in the story and the solution. There are three levels of story scale that are relevant for us: character, community, and world. 

  • A character story is like a portrait, focusing on personal actions and individual change. Examples include Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson, Brooklyn by Colm Toíbín, and Billy Elliot (film 2000).

  • A community story is like a tapestry, focusing on group tactics and communal change. Examples include Ragtime by E. L. Doctorow, The Body in the Library by Agatha Christie, and Sharpe’s Rifles (ITV series based on novels by Bernard Cornwell).

  • A world story is like the cosmos, focusing on universal relationships between individuals, groups, and the entire universe. Examples include All the Light We Cannot See by Anthony Doerr, 11.22.63 by Stephen King, and The Expanse (Syfy and Amazon Prime series based on the novels by James S.A. Corey).

This choice of scale influences the entire fabric of the narrative and how the story is told. The readers attention is directed primarily to personal actions, group tactics, or universal relationships depending on the writer’s choice for the story. 

Emphasis

While all stories show change that ripples outward from character to community to the world, the category is determined by the primary emphasis. No protagonist acts in a vacuum, and even if we don’t see all the possible effects, we can imagine the ripples because we have lived a human life and have seen cause and effect operate.

Every functioning story has a resolution that dramatizes a response to the protagonist’s action in the climax. And that resolution will show, to a greater or lesser extent, the effect on people, places, and things to resolve the narrative question raised with the inciting incident. The well told story suggests a world, characters, and events outside of what’s dramatized in the story proper. And that suggestion combined with our own experience enables us to sense the impact moving out beyond what we see.

But the emphasis is what the story is truly about and that brings me back to the story essence. 

Return to Essence

With our story’s essence in mind, we consider the scale that makes the most sense. Sometimes that will be clear; other times we’ll need to unpack the essence. Reviewing the five whys as well as the themes and considerations will inform the choice.

In the case of my Wreck of the Ten Sail story idea, the connection between essence and scale is clear. Here’s my expression of the essence: "A young captain facing a catastrophic failure must navigate not just treacherous waters, but also human nature and his own limitations, to find a new way forward and leave a positive mark on the world." 

This is a character story, which emphasis his individual transformation with a narrative focus on the actions that Lawford takes to solve the problem he is responsible for. This doesn’t mean he will act alone, but his response to the problem will become the impetus for others to act.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 53: Considering Change in Our Story

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We can look at stories in lots of different ways. One critical aspect is the lens of change. 

A story is about what unfolds when an inciting incident happens to the protagonist. The inciting incident represents a change to their life that cannot be undone. We follow a story to its conclusion in part to experience how the protagonist is changed by this event. 

When the inciting incident happens it sets off a chain of meaningful events. 

  1. The inciting incident creates a central problem/opportunity for change.

  2. Each subsequent scene is like holding that problem up to a different light and examining it from a new angle.

  3. Through this repeated examination, the protagonist discovers that their initial understanding of the problem was incomplete or incorrect in some way.

  4. This new understanding enables them to respond in a way they couldn't have at the beginning. They have not only experienced change, but have been changed.

In a way, it's like the Dr. Seuss story Green Eggs and Ham. Sam asks the protagonist to consider if he would try green eggs in ham in a box, with a fox, etc. Eventually, he agrees to try them and realizes they are quite good.

We can also think about it in the way mysteries work. Each scene reveals new information that forces the detective to revise their initial theory until they have a revelation about who the criminal really is. And in love stories, each interaction between the lovers reveals another layer of what's really drawing them together and keeping them apart. In either case, the protagonist has processed the initial event and can respond based on their new understanding.

How do we evaluate the change we see in a story or want to show in our own story?

The extent and quality of the change at the end will depend on many factors related to the person, the place, and the problem, which arises from the inciting incident. Here are a few to think about:

  • how willing the protagonist is to change as a result of the problem (who)

  • the type of problem and the human need(s) affected by the change (what)

  • where the problem arises and how the environment sets up both the problem and solution (where)

  • the time it takes the protagonist to process and solve the problem (when)

  • the scale of the problem and its solution (how)

All of the above affects how the writer presents the story to the reader to allow for the best chance of integrating and communicating the story’s why: the essence (the aspect of the story that is most important to us as the writer) and the primary message (the cause-and-effect statement that a writer sends through the action the protagonist takes in the story’s climax and the story’s resolution).

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 52: Staying Curious

I appreciate a good origin story. I especially like prequels that are crafted for pre-existing stories. 

For example, I love Endeavour, an ITV/Masterpiece collaboration that presents Inspector Morse’s early days as a police constable. This series stays true to the ITV crime series based on the novels of Colin Dexter. I also appreciate Black Sails, a STARZ series that presents an origin story of Long John Silver and other pirates from Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson. 

I was thinking about this after a recent conversation with a writer who enjoyed the series Better Call Saul, an AMC prequel to Breaking Bad.

After we talked about the excellent qualities of these shows, he asked, what do you think makes a prequel work? I hadn’t thought about it, but this is such a good question. I immediately started considering. 

My first thought was that the creator must love the source material. But more than that, they have to be curious. Curious enough to consider questions about the characters, the world, and what could have caused the events of the original text. Once they are cusious enough to consider crafting an origin story, the successful prequel writer leans into their curiosity to consider answers to the questions. They simulate what could have happened while relying on the constraints of the original story. 

It occurs to me that a similar process happens in fictionalized stories based on real events.  In these tales, the writer uses some historic facts as constraints to show what might have happened. The novel Georgia by Dawn Tripp is an example. This story imagines the behind-the-scenes life of the painter Georgia O’Keeffe. Similarly, Stephen King’s novel 11.22.63 relies on historic facts about the assassination of JFK to write a story that features time travel. 

These thoughts raise interesting questions that are important for any writer of fiction or nonfiction: How true to life should my characters, story world, and events be? For example, in a realistic story, should we use a real location or make it up (like Thomas Hardy’s County Wessex or Richard Russo’s Empire Falls, Maine)? Should we show technology with hyper accuracy (like Tom Clancy’s The Hunt for the Red October) or make up the elements. In a fantasy story, how much of our own real world should we smuggle into the story? How far should we go to portray the reality of people and events in literary nonfiction? 

My hypothesis is that we can best answer these questions by staying curious about the intersection of our story’s essence and our reader’s expectations.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 51: Getting Unstuck

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What do you do when you get stuck in a writing project? I’ve stumbled on several ideas over the years and want to collect some of them here. Probably none of these will surprise you, but having a list of things to try is useful in the moment when you’re looking for a thread to follow. 

Writing Practice

I tend to rely on writing practice at the first sign of trouble, and it usually helps me figure out what’s wrong (see posts on days 2, 3, 4, 5, and 6 for more information on writing practice). Most of the time, I know intuitively what to do, but discursive thoughts get in the way. Writing and keeping my hand moving without censuring helps me get around them. 

You are here 

It helps to know where I’m at. What exactly am I working on? What is the goal? Where am I at in the process? Within a project, I think about what I’m writing away from and what I’m writing toward. This is so simple, but I sometimes lost my way. Stopping to see where I am in relation to my goal helps. 

Take Stock

Once I know where I am, I want to consider what I have at my disposal. What do I know about the challenge in front of me? What tools and resources can I apply to the challenge? What are some options I can try? I also really appreciate a question that Michael Bungay Stanier asks in The Coaching Habit: “What is the real challenge here for you?” You can repeat this question multiple times (just as we do with the five whys, see the day 9 post) to get to the bottom of what’s getting in the way. 

Next Step

Do I know what the next step is? If not, what might that next step look like? What have I done in similar situations in the past? What might my mentors tell me about the next step? What would the protagonist in my favorite story do? Sometimes we need to try something, even if it’s not quite right, to see what the next right step is. 

Change Altitude

Sometimes changing the level from which I’m viewing a project or challenge can help me get a clearer view of what’s going on. If I’m stuck down in the weeds, I try to get to a higher level. This is as simple as looking at what I’m trying to say in a paragraph to help me craft a sentence. What’s essential? What must be included? What should be left out? But sometimes that’s not enough narrative distance. I can pop up to a higher level: What am I trying to accomplish with this unit of writing (whether it’s an email, editorial notes, an article, or the chapter of a book)? The purpose often sheds light on what to say and how to say it. 

If I’m stuck in top-down planning, often the best solution is to write a sentence or paragraph. If I can create a fractal of the larger idea, I come to understand it better and can find a way through.  

Change Something Else

Change Position: Especially if you happen to be a kinesthetic learner, getting up and moving through physical space with the right kind of music can get useful thoughts flowing again. I use Brain.fm and Mindspa with great results. 

Change Location: I move to a different location in my house or to my local library. Coffee shops don’t tend to work for me because I get distracted by people coming and going, but they work for a lot of people. 

Change Mode: If I’ve been typing, I switch to writing by hand in a notebook or on a 25-by-30-inch pad of paper. In the alternative, I try dictating my thoughts (often while walking).

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 50: Revisting Narrative Situation

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I’m still working on how to explain narrative situation, a crucial element in storytelling that shapes how the story is presented to readers. 

Purpose: The narrative situation is a story writers tell themselves (and sometimes the reader) about the existence of the story. We choose the narrative situation to best showcase the story’s essence and deliver its primary message. 

Simple or Complicated: In some stories, the narrative situation is simple and straightforward. For example Treasure Island is written as if Jim Hawkins is recording the events of his encounter with pirates. A narrative situation can also be complicated and multilayered. For example, Umberto Eco's The Name of the Rose, is written as if it is a found and translated manuscript. 

Perspective: The narrative situation determines the point of view. This is a matter of perspective, which includes time and place but also attitude toward the events. The narrator could be a character within the story, someone on the periphery of the story, or someone outside the story. No matter who or what narrates the story, there should be a reason why. This should be discernible from the text of the story even if the writer never tells us explicitly.  

Framing: The narrative situation informs the information presented about the characters, the the world, and the events. More importantly, the narrative situation influences how all these details are presented including the order in which things are presented and the words used to describe them. We can convey the same set of events from different perspectives and create vastly different stories. The narrative situation allows us to frame the specific story we want to tell and provides a filter for all the relevant details. 

Relevance: Details are relevant if they tend to make a fact or consequence more or less likely. If we as writers assign the narrator a specific purpose (beyond our goal of writing a story readers love), we can consider if the events presented in a certain way tend to support the narrator’s success.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 49: Narrative Situation Questions

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This has been a challenging week! While doing writing practice today, I reviewed all that I accomplished, and it was a full week. But it was also taxing, and the coming week promises more of the same. Today I’m going to take my own advice about getting enough downtime and rest and get to bed early.

I want to leave you with a little something to consider that I can build on in a future post. These are the questions I ask when assessing the narrative situation in a story I’m reading. 

  • What’s the premise (person in a place with a problem)? 

  • What is the narrative opportunity presented by the premise?

  • What is the narrative question raised by the inciting incident?

  • What’s the point of view (first, second, or third and past or present)? 

  • Who could be communicating the story?

  • To whom could they be communicating the story?

  • In what form (by implication)?

  • Why might they be communicating the story?

  • When are they communicating in relation to the events of the story?

  • Where are they communicating in relation to the events of the story? 

  • How is the narrative question resolved by the end of the story?

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 48: Basic Internal Conflict

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In the day 45 post, I introduced basic external conflict and the shape of the story’s action. Now I’d like to sketch out internal conflict. External change within the environment will give rise to conflict within the protagonist as they attempt to make sense of and confront what’s happening in their world. One of the most useful ways of categorizing internal conflict is found in the work of literary critic Norman Friedman, who observed that inner conflict arises in how the protagonist sees themselves, values their own needs versus those of others, and sees the world. Friedman called these three internal conflicts plots of fortune, character, and thought. 

Friedman was clear that all three internal plots are present in well crafted stories, because external change will naturally cause adjustments in how we see ourselves, how we value our needs and those of others, and how we imagine or model our world. These plots are interconnected, but one is emphasized above the other two in the way the story is presented to the reader. The shape of these plots will depend on subcategories within the main plot. I’ll explore these shapes in a future post. 

Plots of Fortune

Plots of fortune focus on what Maslow identifies as our need for respect. They involve how the protagonist finds their place and role in the world. The protagonist experiences a change of fortune for the better or worse, and they attempt to succeed within their given arena. The conflict arises when external success requires betraying who they really are, their authentic self. Stories that emphasize internal plots of fortune include Tess of the D’Urbervilles by Thomas Hardy, Death of a Salesman by Arthur Miller, Othello by William Shakespeare, A Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin, Bleak House by Charles Dickens, Brooklyn by Colm Toíbín, and The Fishermen by Chigoze Obioma. 

Plots of Character

Plots of character focus on what Maslow identifies as our need for self-transcendence. They involve how the protagonist negotiates conflict when their needs and those of others are in conflict. In the beginning, the protagonist chooses to pursue what they want and need, and the inner conflict arises when they are called to be of service or sacrifice to meet the needs of others. Stories that emphasize internal plots of character include A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, The Way of All Flesh by Samuel Butler, Selma (2014 film) by Ava DuVernay and by Paul Webb, and Breaking Bad.

Plots of Thought

Plots of thought focus on what Maslow identifies as our need for self-actualization. They involve how the protagonist understands their world. The conflict arises when things happen that don’t fit within their current worldview. The protagonist can embrace their former conception of reality or adopt a new one that is more accurate. Stories that emphasize internal plots of thought include The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, My Fair Lady (1964 film) by George Cukor and Lerner and Loewe, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time by Mark Haddon, or The Sympathizer by Viet Thanh Nguyen. 

In a future post, I’ll break down these into subcategories and provide further examples. 

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 47: Resourcing and Support

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Writers who tell stories that matter venture into the darkness, confronting what others won't. But this vital work comes at a cost—one that requires intentional counterbalancing. 

During this writing challenge I’ve said what I’m doing—writing a short post offering something of value on a writing or storytelling topic daily—but there's actually a deeper purpose behind this commitment. The writing challenge is just one piece of how I’m building resilience while pursuing creative work. It's part of a larger challenge that includes other daily activities: a walk outside, a strength-building workout, writing practice, reading fiction and nonfiction, and sticking to a gut-healthy diet. 

I found success with a modified version of this challenge in the spring and summer this year, and realized this format really works for me. I’ve learned that I thrive in a high-expectation high-support environment. I can’t remember where I first heard this description, but it was probably from Michael Bungay Stanier. He initiated that first challenge I joined through the Conspiracy, a community of people dedicated to working together to pursue worthy goals. The Conspiracy has been a vital part of my support system these last two years. With the encouragement of a bunch of awesome like-minded people, I can do way more than I ever thought possible. 

This kind of support isn't just nice to have—it's essential for writers who dive deep into challenging territory. You see, writers who tell stories that matter are willing to go where others won't. They venture into the darkness and expose themselves to things most people won’t confront. They go deeper than those who play on the surface, and that means they need what James Ochoa, one of my great mentors, calls counterbalancing. We can become depleted by authentically investigating real human challenges, and we need to resource ourselves to avoid burning out. 

This is why one of my other great mentors, Natalie Goldberg, recommends writing practice. The simple act of writing with the goal of knowing and accepting our own mind helps us maintain a grip on reality while courageously following the threads of our lives wherever they take us. 

While these practices work wonderfully for me, I want to be clear: My point isn't that you should immediately take on a 75 day challenge. It might not be right for you. The way we resource, as James has reminded me over and over again, is quite personal. We have to customize our strategies to fit us, the season of life we’re in, and the particular challenges we face. The key, as MBS tells us in the Conspiracy is to experiment, stay curious about the results, and experiment again. Oh, and don’t travel alone. This spirit of experimentation and community is exactly what I hope you'll embrace as you develop your own support system. 

You have stories that matter to write and share. These stories will help you make sense of your life and help others gain new perspectives. This is important. 

Whatever support and resourcing looks like for you, I hope you’ll devote some time to thinking about it. If you need permission (seems odd, but sometimes we do), consider it granted. If you’re having trouble doing it for you, remember your five whys (asking yourself why five times to get to your story’s essence) to remember the reason you’re going to all this trouble.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 46: Reading Lark Rise

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I recently started reading Lark Rise by Flora Thompson (1939) for a book group I participate in. This is my first time reading the story, though I’ve watched the BBC series adapted from it. I want to share some observations and thoughts based on my first read of the opening chapter. 

  1. This is a great example of how to open a story about a world the reader won’t be familiar with. We come into the hamlet slowly and deliberately with exquisite details about the land, the people, the work they engage in, their social status, and where they fit in the larger world outside the small hamlet. We come to understand how they typically solve their problems and how they are as a collective and where they differentiate. It reminds me in many ways of the prologue of The Fellowship of the Ring in which we learn what we need to know about hobbits and their history before the adventures begin. There is activity in this opening chapter, but the story hasn’t yet begun.

  2. This opening is like a lush painting that captures a place in time, specifically a time before major technological and social change. I would say snapshot, but it’s more like a vast landscape painting, lovingly crafted, with details we can only see if we spend time peering into it. 

  3. The overall feeling I get is of nostalgia, even longing. This feeling is generated in part through the narrative perspective (temporal distance) and the specific words used to invoke the image of the hamlet. The narration is happening sometime later; the narrator is looking back on a way of life that is no longer present and has, no doubt, a different perspective than if it were written contemporaneously. The chapter is entitled “Poor People’s Houses,” but the narrator makes a point of telling us that “Lark Rise must not be thought of as a slum set down in the country. The inhabitants lived an open-air life; the cottages were kept clean by much scrubbing with soap and water, and doors and windows stood open when weather permitted.” The narrator conveys her sense of pride in the place.

  4. Still, the narrator is not afraid to be critical of certain behaviors, particularly the slaughtering of pigs. “[C]ountry people of that day had little sympathy for the sufferings of the animals, and men, women, and children would gather round to see the sight.” Before events that she calls savage, each family devotes great attention to their pig because they are so connected to their survival and way of life. 

  5. Details of the world beyond Lark Rise are smuggled in through the headlines and pictures in newspapers that lined the outhouse walls.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 45: Basic Conflict and Activity

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In most of the posts during this 75-day writing challenge, I’ve been exploring how to develop a story idea. We begin with the initial spark of an idea, the genesis of which we may remember or not. For Mick Heron who wrote Slow Horses, it was a door he passed on his daily commute. What was special about this door? He never saw anyone enter or exit it. (This reminds me of the doors in the Wayward Children series by Seanan McGuire. If you haven’t read these, I highly recommend them.) 

We never know when something will grab hold of us and not let go until we bring it to fruition in the form of a story. Whatever the immediate cause, this idea is a response to our life’s experiences as well as the stories we’ve read or watched that we want to be in conversation with. 

As we mull over the idea, we may begin to see a world and people there engaged in activity. In some cases, we are flooded with details that may end up in the story or not. From all of that material, a person in a place with a problem begins to emerge. This is our premise. 

As we tease out why this premise is important enough to write a story about through the five (or more) whys, we begin to home in on the story’s essence and uncover themes that are critical to us. This is what is essential to us about the story idea. It could be almost anything, but it is the one thing we must express through the story for it to work for us. As I have written before, the story’s essence is not the story itself, but it's a fractal of the entire narrative, encapsulating its meaning to us as the writer.

We use all of this to explore and expand the premise elements as I’ve done with my Wreck of the Ten Sail idea. I’ve shared parts of this process to help you see how I’m thinking about story development: asking questions and checking the answers against the essence. I still have more to explore to feel ready for the next stage, but I want to begin to point to these next steps. 

With a well developed protagonist, world, and problem, it makes sense to turn toward the interactions between them. This is not only what the protagonist will do once they encounter the problem in the place, but also the general shape of the action in the story. There are several ways to approach this task, but what I find useful at this stage is to consider the external conflict between the protagonist and the primary force of antagonism and the activity they engage in. 

It’s useful to consider this in very abstract terms at first: the protagonist and the source of the problem. Is the external conflict between the protagonist and the (1) environment, (2) another individual or group, or (3) society or government?

With this in mind, we consider the type of activity that will be involved in the conflict, again, in abstract terms. 

  • Is it a fight between two forces? 

  • Is it about a deadline (time certain) or ticking clock (time is running out)? 

  • Is it a chase? Is the protagonist chasing or being chased? 

  • Is it a trap from which the protagonist must escape? 

  • Is it a race to arrive somewhere or obtain something? 

In a future post, I’ll break down these ideas and provide examples. 

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 44: Considering the Protagonist Part 5

In this post, I will respond to two more protagonist questions focusing on internal conflicts. Consider this “thinking out loud” because I’m still uncovering what the answers could be before I check to see what makes sense and what aligns with the story’s essence. Those checks will come later (generating and evaluating responses are two different tasks that are best separated), but I’ll be able to generate further questions that are more specific to my story to show you how we can go deeper with character development. 

As usual with these posts, it’s more useful to focus on how I’m thinking about the problem of story development than on the specific choices I’m making. What kinds of questions am I asking, and how are the questions framing the answers I seek? One thing I’m noticing while working through the questions is that certain ideas arise frequently whether I’m thinking about the protagonist, place, or problem of the premise. This seems promising. 

What are the protagonist's main internal conflicts? 

I see two primary sources of internal conflict: William Lawford’s sense of duty and his inexperience. 

Lawford’s sense of duty and his desire to carry out his mission are part of how he defines himself. He is an officer who fulfills the orders given to him by his superiors. This works well when the values, goals, and strategies of the Royal Navy match Lawford’s own. When orders conflict with Lawford’s personal moral code, goals, and strategies he finds honorable, he will struggle to make the best decision. 

As a young and inexperienced officer, Lawford has an idea about how the Royal Navy is and ought to be (his mental model of the institution). When his naive beliefs conflict with reality, he may struggle to realize it and then be unsure of how to respond, especially when under time pressure. 

This inexperience may cause Lawford to question his judgment of the institution and himself and to doubt his ability to complete the rescue and salvage mission. And because he finds social interactions challenging, this will be complicated when his tasks that involve influencing people.

How do the protagonist’s personal values clash with external expectations?

Initially, Lawford’s values and goals, those of the merchant captains, and the Admiralty will be aligned. They all want the convoy to reach its destination as quickly and safely as possible. But once the convoy departs and the merchant captains are ordered to go as slow as the leakiest ship, the goals will not all be fully aligned. Lawford’s crew will have different goals based on their positions as well. Priorities and expectations will be mutually exclusive. Sacrifices will have to be made, and striking the right balance will be challenging, especially because of the lack of resources.

With all of my story responses so far in mind, I can ask more specific questions to explore further dimensions of his character. 

  • How does Lawford's sense of duty to the Royal Navy conflict with his personal moral code?

  • In what ways does Lawford's inexperience as a young captain create self-doubt or insecurity?

  • How does Lawford's difficulty navigating social situations show up in his relationships, and how does this internal struggle manifest?

  • What tensions arise between Lawford's desire for structure and discipline and the need for flexibility in a crisis situation?

  • How does Lawford's background (lower-middle class, first in his family to become a naval officer) influence his self-perception and interactions with others? How does his model of the world differ from those of others? 

  • What internal conflict does Lawford face between his idealistic view of the Royal Navy and the realities of corruption or questionable motives he might encounter?

  • How does Lawford's tendency to hyperfocus affect his decision-making, and what internal struggles does this cause?

  • What personal sacrifices has Lawford made to pursue his naval career, and how do these choices continue to affect him?

  • How does Lawford's difficulty in reading social cues create internal tension when he needs to lead or influence others?

  • What internal conflict might Lawford face between his dedication to his career and any potential personal relationships or desires?

Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts can be found here: day 10, day 11, day 12, day 13, day 19, day 21, day 26, day 27, day 33, day 37, day 42 , and day 43.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 43: Considering the Protagonist Part 4

Photo by Ingeborg Korme on Unsplash

In the day 41 post, I shared questions for developing our story’s protagonist. In the day 42 post, I began answering those questions using the story idea based on the Wreck of the Ten Sail. I’ll answer more of the first-level protagonist questions here.
As usual with these posts on how I’m working on this story, pay more attention to how I’m thinking about the problem of story development than the specific choices I’m making. Also note: We don’t have to know everything right away. There are some gaps here that I will come back to as I continue to uncover the story.  

As a reminder, here is my story foundation of premise and essence.

  • What is the basic premise of the story? Captain William Lawford, in the Caribbean Sea, conducting a rescue and salvage mission after the wreck of ten ships in a convoy he is escorting. 

  • What is the essence of the story? A young captain facing a catastrophic failure must navigate not just treacherous waters, but also human nature and his own limitations, to find a new way forward and leave a positive mark on the world.

Physical Attributes

What are the protagonist's key physical characteristics? Do they have any unique physical traits or abilities? This story will involve a lot of physical work, so Lawford’s physical form will matter, but I don’t yet have a clear picture of him. Mostly I have more questions. Here are the four ways I’m thinking about this so far. 

  • Consider the physical tasks Lawford will have to do in the story and, given that, what is the range of physical stature and ability that makes sense? 

  • Lawford is based on a real person (Sir John Lawford), so I could use his description and picture as a starting point. 

  • I can consider other historical (e.g., Nelson or Cochrane) or literary (e.g., Hornblower or Aubrey), examples of naval commanders from the time period. 

  • Consider what physical characteristics will tend to support the story’s essence and the primary conflict I want to dramatize through the story. How can Lawford’s physical traits and abilities make his problems more challenging while still enabling him to solve them?

Mental and Emotional Attributes

  • What is the protagonist's personality type? Using the big five personality traits, Lawford would score high on trait openness, conscientiousness, and neuroticism. He would score in the mid range of agreeableness and extroversion. 

  • Do they have any mental or cognitive traits that affect their behavior? Lawford takes in a lot of information from the environment, and sometimes hyper focuses on the current problem a little too much. He is well attuned to the external environment, but finds it difficult to negotiate human relationships, and often misses what he believes are subtle social cues. He appreciates the structure and discipline of a Royal Navy vessel. It makes sense to him. This ordered environment amid the external chaos enables him to have insights that help him solve problems. The chaotic behavior of merchant captains is frustrating to him. Without his ship, conditions on the island from an earlier hurricane and the aftermath of the shipwrecks will be very challenging. He’ll need to find a way to navigate the human relationships if he’s going to be successful in this mission and beyond.

  • What are their core values and beliefs? Lawford possesses a strong sense of duty and a commitment to upholding ethical warrior codes as an officer. He’s not a naval officer to gain fortune or renown. He’s dedicating himself within this organization whose values he supports to be part of the meaningful struggle to protect his homeland. His belief in the purity of these values is naive. There is corruption; there are selfish motives involved. He will have to find a way to navigate this invisible world as well. 

Relationships and Social Context

  • What is the protagonist's marital or relationship status? Lawford is unmarried during the events portrayed in this story. An open question is whether he has a relationship that might lead to marriage one day. 

  • Who are their key relationships (family, friends, mentors)? Right now, I’m identifying what the key relationships will be based on who he’ll be spending most of his time with, but I need to consider who in his past may be influencing him as well, though they are not physically present.

    • Officers, noncommissioned officers, and crew members

    • Merchant captains and their officers and crew

    • The people who live on on the island and their representative(s) 

    • The admiral who delivers the orders to Lawford

    • Officers involved in the court martial

    • Past officers and other mentors who have influenced him

  • What is their social status within their community or profession? Within the convoy, Lawford is the senior officer, but in the Royal Navy, he is a junior commander. 

In future posts, I’ll continue to respond to the questions and share more specific questions I’m formulating based on my responses here. 

Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts can be found here: day 10, day 11, day 12, day 13, day 19, day 21, day 26, day 27, day 33, day 37, and day 42 .

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't always give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 42: Considering the Protagonist Part 3

Image courtesy of Bigstock

In the day 41 post, I shared questions for beginning to develop our story’s protagonist. Here are my responses to some of them using the story idea based on the Wreck of the Ten Sail. As usual with these posts on how I’m working on this story, pay more attention to how I’m thinking about the problem of story development than the specific choices I’m making. Also note: We don’t have to know everything right away. There are some gaps here that I will come back to.  

  •  Story Foundation

    • What is the basic premise of the story? Captain William Lawford, in the Caribbean Sea, conducting a rescue and salvage mission. 

    • What is the essence of the story? A young captain facing a catastrophic failure must navigate not just treacherous waters, but also human nature and his own limitations, to find a new way forward and leave a positive mark on the world.

  • Character's Relationship to the Story

    • Is the protagonist entering a new, unfamiliar environment or facing unfamiliar challenges in their familiar environment? Lawford is entering an environment that is new to him. He is newly on station in the Caribbean, and when he is among the locals on Grand Cayman Island, he will be akin to a fish out of water. 

    • What is the protagonist's role in the story's environment? He is the leader in charge of the convoy and the subsequent rescue and salvage missions. He will have other roles related to his relationships with other characters.

    • What archetypal role does the protagonist embody? Guardian. He  is a protector of the convoy, and the lives of the men in his charge. But he is also a guardian of the ethos of his profession.

  • Personal Background

    • What is the protagonist's age and level of experience? Lawford is relatively young and inexperienced to be in command of this mission (this is a bit of a departure from the historical event). Lawford will be naive about his ability to influence others.

    • What is their family background and social class? Lawford is the first in his family to go to sea. He's from a lower-middle class family (his father may be a merchant or a minister). I need to consider the makeup of the rest of his family. Lawford has to work. He hasn't been lucky enough to take many enemy ships as prizes.

    • Where are they from, and where have they lived? Lawford is from a town in England, but I haven’t decided where. This fact may not be something that comes out in the story, but I’ll need to know because it will affect other details about his life. Since becoming a midshipman, Lawford has lived on various ships (I will need to check history of war between England and France to make sure this works). 

    • What is their education or training? Lawford will have attended to his studies diligently as a midshipman and lieutenant, but may he be fairly unworldly outside of this context and the world in which he grew up.

In tomorrow’s post, I’ll continue to work through these questions. In future posts, I’ll show the more specific questions I’m formulating based on my responses here and how I’m assessing all of the details in light of the story’s essence.

Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts can be found here: day 10, day 11, day 12, day 13, day 19, day 21, day 26, day 27, day 33, and day 37.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 41: Considering the Protagonist Part 2

Photo by Paige Cody on Unsplash

In the day 30 post, I shared five relevant characteristics of the story protagonist in three example stories. These are what we might call functional details for the story. They create the conditions that help us tell a coherent story. 

The goal for us is to identify the details for our own protagonist that help us enact the vision of our story’s essence and send the message that’s most important to us. What does that mean? We want to find the details that make our protagonist the right one for this story. 

Here is a list of questions I’m developing to help us do that. This is a starting point. We would ask further, more specific questions based on the answers we get here (much like those to discover the story’s essence). 

  1. Story Foundation

    • What is the basic premise of your story? This is the person in a place with a problem that the story is about.

    • What is the essence of your story? This is what is essential to us about the story idea.

  2. Character's Relationship to the Story

    • Is the protagonist entering a new, unfamiliar environment or facing unfamiliar challenges in their familiar environment?

    • What is the protagonist's role in the story's environment?

    • What archetypal role does the protagonist embody?

  3. Personal Background

    • What is the protagonist's age and level of experience?

    • What is their family background and social class?

    • Where are they from, and where have they lived?

    • What is their education or training?

  4. Physical Attributes

    • What are the protagonist's key physical characteristics?

    • Do they have any unique physical traits or abilities?

  5. Mental and Emotional Attributes

    • What is the protagonist's personality type?

    • Do they have any mental or cognitive traits that affect their behavior?

    • What are their core values and beliefs?

  6. Skills and Interests

    • What are the protagonist's professional skills?

    • Do they have any hobbies or special interests?

    • Is there a unique skill or interest that might be relevant to the story?

  7. Relationships and Social Context

    • What is the protagonist's marital or relationship status?

    • Who are their key relationships (family, friends, mentors)?

    • What is their social status within their community or profession?

  8. Internal Conflicts

    • What are the protagonist's main internal conflicts?

    • How do their personal values clash with external expectations?

  9. External Challenges

    • What are the main external challenges the protagonist faces?

    • How does their background or personality affect how they approach these challenges?

  10. Character Growth

    • What areas of growth or change will the protagonist experience?

    • How will their journey align with or challenge their archetypal role?

This organization allows us to start with the foundation of our story (premise and essence) and then build out the protagonist in layers, from basic background information to more complex aspects of the character. It also helps us writers to consider how each aspect of the protagonist relates to the story's premise and essence.

As I mentioned above, for each category, we can develop more specific questions. This structure gives us flexibility while helping us to consider critical aspects of character development.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 40: Effective Story Decisions

“So the world of a story is a thing we can create or summon into being, but which the reader participates in creating and understanding. A story or novel is a kind of map because, like a map, it is not a world, but it evokes one (or at least one, for each reader). ”
— Peter Turchi, Maps of the Imagination

With words, sentences, and paragraphs, we enable a reader to experience the events we dramatize/weave into a story.

Turchi makes two additional points that are relevant to a particular approach to effective story decisions.

  • Stories, like maps, include distortion. Just as a map does not match the territory it represents, stories don’t capture all aspects of human experience. A story is meant to feel like real life, but it isn’t the same at all, even if it’s realistic. 

  • Stories, like maps, do not include details and events that are irrelevant or that the reader understands.

To create the experience we intend, we have to make effective decisions about what to include and what to exclude or allow to be distorted. A useful process to make effective decisions begins by understanding what we want to say, including the story’s essence and its primary point or lesson. 

We use essence and lesson to make other fundamental story decisions, things like 

  • the scale of change in the story, 

  • the form of the story, 

  • the primary need threatened by the problem,

  • the nature of the world that sets up conditions that threaten the need, 

  • the type of antagonist that causes the problem, 

  • the protagonist who must respond and try to solve the problem 

  • the time it takes the protagonist to solve the problem

Each of these decisions constrain the micro decisions of the words, sentences, and paragraphs that evoke the story. Of course this is obvious. But the narrative situation provides a lens or filter that enables us to see more clearly what belongs and what doesn’t, what must be clearly shown in real time and what may be distorted. 

The narrative situation is the story writers tell themselves and sometimes the reader about the existence of the story. That story behind the story provides a goal and motivation for a narrator or narrating entity, someone communicating something to someone, a narratee, about the problem the protagonist is trying to solve in the story. 

When we take this perspective and focus on the narratee, the individual for whose benefit the story is conveyed, we can make some useful assumptions about their knowledge and experience (and therefore what we can omit or distort), what they value (and therefore what’s relevant to them), and what they believe (and therefore the perspective they bring to the story). In the same way, when we have a conversation with someone, we consider their experience, values, and beliefs (even if implicitly) when we decide what to say and how to say it. We could share the same series of events with our a child, a colleague, and a friend, and each version would be subtly different based on what who they are and what we’re trying to achieve by sharing the story. You can get a sense of this in different adaptations of the same story. 

The goal of the narrator turns out to be quite important, and I’ll pick up there in a future post. 

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 39: Archetypal Roles for Antagonists

In the day 34 post, I wrote about the primary force of antagonism, the person, group, or thing, that causes the protagonist’s problem. This antagonist force could be an individual villain, an oppressive system, or even the hostile environment itself. It’s as if there is an unseen force moving through the world and characters that causes change the protagonist must confront through a problem they must solve. 

In that post, I identified the primary characteristics of the antagonists in three story examples. Now I want to connect these antagonists to archetypal roles. 

An archetypal role is a universal character pattern enacted through behaviors and motivations. Identifying this symbolic role allows us to connect the specific antagonist to easily recognized narratives and character types across different stories. This is one of the ways we embed universal narrative patterns in our unique stories. 

For example, common antagonist archetypes that we recognize in stories include the following. 

  • The Shadow - represents the darker, repressed impulses of humanity

  • The Trickster - deceives others to sow chaos

  • The Dictator - ruthlessly pursues power and control

  • The Traitor - betrays other characters' trust

  • The Siren - lures others toward peril or temptation

Here are the archetypes for the antagonists in the example stories. 

  • The Hobbit  - Thorin is a dictator who seeks to possess (having mode) rather than seeking the truth (being mode). 

  • Pride and Prejudice - Mrs. Bennet and Lady Catherine are guardians who seek to control entrance to their respective families as a way to influence connections and status. 

  • The Body in the Library - Josie Turner is a femme fatale, and Mark Gaskell is a traitorous sidekick.

Connecting the antagonist to a familiar archetype allows readers to quickly grasp their essential spirit and recognize their pattern of behavior as it aligns with or diverges from the archetype. It also elevates the villain from the specific story into a universal theme.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 38: Motivation Reaction Units

Photo by Nadir sYzYgY on Unsplash

Motivation Reaction Units (MRUs), a concept introduced by Dwight V. Swain, are fundamental to storytelling but often overlooked. At its core, an MRU is about cause and effect.

In storytelling, every event is a consequence of what came before—think stimulus and response, or setup and payoff.

At the macro level, a story revolves around how the protagonist responds to the inciting incident. This event creates motivation within the protagonist to solve a unique problem, which, if resolved, fulfills a basic human need.

After processing this event, the protagonist reacts in the story's climax—their reasoned response.

We can even connect this stimulus-response concept to how our life experiences shape the stories we tell and influence our story’s essence. 

At a micro level, MRUs form the fabric of a story through strings of stimuli and responses within scenes. While initially challenging to identify, mastering MRUs can strengthen our writing at every level—from sentences to entire stories.

Let's look at a clear example from the beginning of The Tale of Peter Rabbit by Beatrix Potter:

"Now, my dears," said old Mrs. Rabbit one morning, "you may go into the fields or down the lane, but don't go into Mr. McGregor's garden: your Father had an accident there; he was put in a pie by Mrs. McGregor."

"Now run along, and don't get into mischief. I am going out."

Then old Mrs. Rabbit took a basket and her umbrella, and went through the wood to the baker's. She bought a loaf of brown bread and five currant buns.

Flopsy, Mopsy, and Cotton-tail, who were good little bunnies, went down the lane to gather blackberries.

This sets up the motivation for Peter. His reaction follows:

But Peter, who was very naughty, ran straight away to Mr. McGregor's garden, and squeezed under the gate!

By tracing these motivations and reactions throughout a story, we gain a powerful tool for analyzing and crafting narratives.

In future posts, I’ll explore more applications of MRUs in storytelling.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 37: Assessing the Story World Part 1

Photo by Benjamin Voros on Unsplash

In this post, I’ll use world-building questions from the day 31 post to explore the story world and its alignment with the problem. 

As I go through these questions, I realize there is still a lot of research to do. I have general knowledge about the world at that time from history texts (I highly recommend Lincoln Paine’s books on maritime history), but to build out the world myself, I will need greater familiarity with what’s available and what the limitations are. That said, I can consider the story world as I understand it now with the story essence I’ve identified: "A young captain facing a catastrophic failure must navigate not just treacherous waters, but also human nature and his own limitations, to find a new way forward and leave a positive mark on the world."

World Foundation 

Is there a clear starting point or analogue? I’ve chosen to dramatize the events of a historical event, and I’ll present the story realistically. The story takes place during the time when the actual event happened, early 1794. I may adjust the timing to incorporate other events in the larger world, but this is my starting point. This real-world setting is chaotic—both the sea and the political environment. Both will push him and test his leadership and decision-making abilities. 

Physical laws

How do physics, magic, or other fundamental rules operate in this world? Because this is a realistic story, physical laws will operate the way they do in our world. This means there will be no magic other than that of the natural world. The harsh conditions will test Lawford’s abilities and force him to confront his limitations beyond the relative comfort of his ship, where he would feel more competent. 

Geography and Environment

What is the terrain, climate, and physical setting? How will this environment affect the pursuit of needs? Much of the story takes place in the Caribbean Sea in and near Grand Cayman Island. I explored some elements of the world in an earlier post that explored the problem and how external elements mirror internal and interpersonal challenges. 

  • Specific to the area near Grand Cayman Island: The reef around one end of the island extends three-quarters of a mile from the island and lies near the surface of the water. A strong current and weak winds act on ships passing by so that their actual location is not what they expect. 

  • The weather can be unpredictable. Although this story occurs outside of the typical hurricane season, other powerful storms can strike. 

  • A recent hurricane has left the inhabitants of Grand Cayman without the resources to support the hundreds of survivors of the wrecked ships. The things Lawford needs to be successful are scarce. The port on Jamaica is hundreds of miles away, and he must wait for a friendly ship to happen by or send one of the merchant ships to get help. Lawford will have to improve his ability to take stock of what remains (people, food, wreckage, equipment) and make effective decisions quickly. 

  • Ocean voyages, even in a well equipped ship, were often dangerous not only because of the external conditions but because of enemy ships, which would include French naval vessels and privateers. 

The unpredictable weather, dangerous reefs, and scarcity of resources all align with the story’s essence, especially navigating treacherous waters and human nature. These environmental factors will force Lawford to adapt and test his ability to leave a positive mark despite adversity.

Technology and innovation

What tools, inventions, or advancements exist? I want this story to be historically accurate to a certain degree (the extent to which I need to nail down, so I’m adding that to my list). The technology should mirror that of the period. I’ll need to do more research to ensure that the equipment available makes sense given my constraints. Here are three things I’m considering already.

  • Limitations of maps and charts. After the wreck of the ten sail, a warning was issued to alert captains to the dangers of the current and reef. But Lawford didn’t have access to this. It’s a problem that is unfamiliar to many of us now since our hand-held devices can give us directions to nearly anywhere we might want to go. If we didn’t have that and needed to travel through dangerous and unfamiliar territory, how would we deal with it? I imagine we would try to tune into the natural world and look for clues, run experiments and gather information, make our best guesses and learn from our mistakes. 

  • Similarly, there would be no timely weather reports, though I suspect that the people of the time were more attuned to environmental signals that indicate changing weather patterns. There would still be a great deal of uncertainty about the weather. Also, on the island, Lawford and crew members must make do with the shelter they can adapt from the wreckage, since there are no accommodations available for them on the island.

  • Communication. Communication, which is instantaneous for us, would be slow and potentially imprecise. Between ships, crew members can hail one another if they are within earshot. Gunfire and pennants could be used when within sight. Communication between Lawford and his superior officers and the port where he can gain the help he needs can only be accomplished by sending a ship. This means he will have to act on his own a great deal without orders or a mentor. 

All of this means that Lawford will have to adapt to the conditions as he finds them. The constraints that force him to innovate will probably provide the insight he needs to find a new way forward after the failure of the mission.. 

Social structure

What hierarchies, rules, and norms govern society? The Royal Navy is a strict hierarchical organization with plenty of rules written and unwritten that govern how people interact and how conflict is resolved. Chances are, the merchant ship crews will follow a similar hierarchy, but the discipline may not be as strict. The locals on Grand Cayman are fairly isolated and will have adapted their own ways of interacting and resolving conflict. This means Lawford will have to negotiate relationships that are outside his chain of command with people who are not required to follow his orders. But within every human conflict is an opportunity to forge a new way forward to common ground.


Wreck of the Ten Sail story development posts can be found here: day 10, day 11, day 12, day 13, day 19, day 21, day 26, day 27, and day 33.

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.

Day 36: Narrative Situation Part 2

Photo by Debby Hudson on Unsplash

In the day 35 post, I explained that a narrative situation is a story the writer tells themselves and sometimes the audience to explain the existence of the story. You might say it’s the story behind the story. The narrative situation can be any circumstances in which someone is communicating the events of the story to someone. 

I offered two examples in which the writer chose to share the narrative situation with readers. These are overt because the author is revealing the means by which the story is presented. Here are several more overt examples.

Overt Examples

  • A conversation: “How to Be the Other Woman” by Lorrie Moore. The story reads as if a woman is trying to explain how she came to have an affair with a married man to another person. 

  • Epistolary: The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society by Annie Shaffer and Mary Ann Barrows. The story is told through letters and other documents. Other examples: Fried Green Tomatoes at the Whistle Stop Cafe by Fannie Flagg and Ella Minnow Pea by Mark Dunn.

  • Found manuscript: The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco. This story purports to be a found manuscript recreated from memory.

  • Annotated books: S by J. J. Abrams and Doug Dorst or House of Leaves by Mark. Z. Danielewski. These stories feature extensive marginalia that create a separate and connected story in addition to the text.

  • Memoir: Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte and Memoirs of Hadrian by Marguerite Yourcenar. These stories are written as if someone is telling their own story.

  • Diary or Journal: The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime by Mark Haddon and The Silver Linings Playbook by Matthew Quick. These stories, like Bridget Jones’s Diary by Helen Fielding, purport to be the protagonist’s personal diary.

Quite often, the writer doesn’t want to reveal the story behind the story in the text. These are covert narrative situations. 

Covert Examples

  • Brooklyn by Colm Tóibín. Tóibín employs third person selective omniscient as if the protagonist, Eilis Lacey, is replaying recent events to make sense of them so she can decide what to do. 

  • The Hobbit by J.R.R. Tolkien employs third person omniscient as if a grandfather is telling a bedtime story to his grandchild. 

  •  The Aeronaut’s Windlass by Jim Butcher employs multiple selective omniscient point of view as if an etherealist is channeling AMS Predator’s core crystal to experience the show the events of the story.

  • “Wolves of Karelia” by Arna Bontemps Hemenway employs first person point of view, so we know who the Author is, but we don’t know who is listening. It’s written as if Simo is being interviewed about events in the distant past.

Because they are covert, we backpropagate the narrative situation based on the text including the details provided. In another post, I’ll explore how we get to the bottom of covert narrative situations. 

This post is part of a 75-day writing challenge and experiment. From September 9 through November 22, I'll be posting daily thoughts on writing, storytelling, and creativity based on recent readings or reflections. While my intention was to keep them very short—250 to 400 words—I've found that this range doesn't give me enough space to cover these topics adequately. I aim to keep them brief enough to be read quickly, but they will often be longer than 400 words. 

At the end of the challenge, I will organize and revise the material with intention. For now, the object is to explore and share.