Finding a Character's Motive, Goal, & Plot

My big struggle right now is that I’ve created a plot idea, a story arena, with my Neverland project. It’s exciting and fascinating to me. But since a story doesn’t work without a character, I’m getting stuck.

Some projects are born from a fascinating and compelling character. And the world comes to life around them, and it’s easy (ish) to filter the story through them.

But in my case, I’m usually a plot or world or event inspired person. I come up with riveting ideas (to me) and then create a character to go experience it.

If it stayed there, that’s very forgettable. And it makes for boring writing, and boring reading. That’s like playing a game where you don’t care about your avatar. Which is most of us - because we’re playing the game, and the avatar is the marionette.

Novels don’t work that way. The reader should be getting into the story themselves, because we identify with the character. And my favorite novels do that really well. I bet yours do too - and that’s why they’re your favorite.

So now that I’ve written a bunch of flashback content in my novel, I’m about to return to the present moment.

And realize I don’t understand my MC’s motivation.

So a little research on YouTube University, and I find this gem.

It’s been popping up several times, so I’ll give it a go.

I think I’ve found my answer. I love how this approach turns it around, and it’s such a human approach. What’s so brilliant about it is that I can instantly throw myself into the answers - which is brings characters to ‘life’.

I’m assuming you’ve watched the video. I won’t recap it. She does such a fantastic job.

Ok, here are my notes.

First, we step away from the whole book to identify the rooftop-truth; the thing we want everyone to know.

I think this is the thing we might write down privately, and never tell anyone. We want people to discover this for themselves. And if this is a series, we want to use multiple stories or characters to react to this truth.

I decided to start filling in my personal life to test this out, and then I did it on my character.

The Deep Truth

So one: a truth from the rooftops for myself, the point of all my writing: that I love doing it, I can do it, and we’re going to go on fantastic adventures into the heart of the worlds I love, where we can discover reality, wisdom, and Heaven. It’s going to be a dark journey all the way down, because they only way is through.

But, I’m choosing a lie.

What is the Lie

We are all living some sort of lie, and it creates all our problems. I’m believing a lie that I can’t write novels because:

• I’m too busy working hard to make money

• I’m going to get in trouble for wasting time with my head in the clouds

• I won’t be good at it

• It’s hard to write a novel

• The stories will never be as good as I imagine them

Because I’m not doing what I feel called to do, I’m frustrated and mad.

Consequences of the lie

Because I’m not writing novels, and letting off steam into creating things that matter to me, I’m churning all that steam and energy into other things.

I’m constructing elaborate marketing projects, hosting communities, chasing clients, and spending hours upon hours crafting gorgeous designs to get attention. Some of it works, and some of it’s worked really well to create the income and security I have now, where I can breathe and rest.

But I feel manic a lot, and the pressure builds up and I burn out over and over. All because the thing I deeply love is too dangerous to pick up and use. I need to throttle it back down and keep going, harder, faster, longer, with everything else. Emailing, copywriting, website design, funnel building, following up with people, creating more podcasts, building wider networks.

The problem: none of it works like I want it to. All the effort going in results in a tiny fraction of a return. A return so small that it’s almost stupid to keep trying it.

But, there’s an upside to this:

Skills learned

In the last few years of all this hustle and grind to provide for my family, I discover that I’ve levelled myself up. I’ve taught myself a ton of things I could never do before. I’ve grown networks of new friends and starting creating a name for myself. I’ve taught myself that I can start and finish projects and meet deadlines, and love the output. And then do it again, and again.

I’ve learned to be so efficient that I don’t understand how everyone else isn’t as well, and I keep surprising my coworkers.

This means that I’ve created breathing room for myself.

What was the moment in my past that started the lie that writing was dangerous for me?

Backstory: What triggered the lie

There was one moment when I came home for family, to help them, and they promised me that I would be taken care of. I’d carried my family for a long time, cancelled my dreams of a college education, and took on all the jobs in the family business so that my siblings could go get education and careers. I did it because I was told it was the right thing to do, the mature and responsible thing.

So when a moment came during my parents’ messy divorce where I was invited back home to the USA from my job in Sydney, to bring stability to the family, I took it. I knew coming back I would have no job, no prospects. But I was assured that I could finally write my novels.

So I did. I wrote. I did some freelance work, and I wrote. And I loved it. But, a moment came when I was pulled aside, and told that I needed to get a real job and that I was wasting time.

That was a nail in the coffin. Maybe I was wrong in the whole situation, and should have been doing that anyway. Doesn’t matter. It’s what happened, and I internalized that my fictional creativity was dangerous - wasting time that should be spent earning.

A follow-up event happened early in my marriage, where I tried writing again, but medical bills and needs slammed right back, reinforcing that lie.

Suddenly, I’m writing again, the novel is flowing out. What changed?

Inciting incident that changed to the truth

I’m stuck. The house I live in is a mold box, and we’re all getting sick from it regularly. But we can’t move, and we don’t have help, so there’s nothing to do. We have one shot to get out, and that’s if a family member can sell their home, and help us with a down payment.

I’ve just levelled up to a new job, so I don’t have to worry about generating freelance income.

All my side projects are at a point where more effort doesn’t seem to make a difference, and they’re in a holding pattern, or I’ve backed away from them.

There’s finally a space of peace that I’ve created.

So I opened a new Google doc and just started.

What happens once I start

I feel peace. I feel happy. Steam is let off. I’m not trying to satisfy my creativity with my job, but able to get the work done needed, and step back again.

My ADHD is able to buckle down on a long term project and wear itself out appropriately, instead of glitching throughout my day.

I don’t need to fall asleep to movies, or late night reading. I’m up, getting some morning meditation and prayer in, a morning walk with my little girl, and then a few hours of writing.

And it feels good. Who knows what comes next. But this whole journey has shown me that I can’t believe the lie.

Now I think I know what will come next. This newfound peace and space will be challenged. And I’ll be tempted to go back to the manic mode. Something will come up, it always does.

But this is the point of a story. Who am I now? Have I learned the lesson? No? Time for another adventure so that I do get it.

If yes, what happens to me and my future? What good things can come about? What new doors can manifest when I’m working from a place of peaceful excitement and purposeful action?

…

So that was all very fascinating to think through.

Now I’m following the prompts in the video, and looking at the notes in my book. And things are lining up. They’re making sense.

My initial reaction is to dislike nerfing my MC. Introduce more flaws.

But then I realize, she’s flat anyway. So a little more definition does some good things: it helps me, and my readers, hopefully identify with her faster, because they also believe the same lie.

Of course, we don’t think it’s a lie. We think it’s the truth. It’s our motive.

And that motive creates a goal, and the plot is what happens when we run away or toward that goal.

Anywho.

If this was helpful, drop a comment! It made for some fascinating stream of consciousness thinking.