Further Steps in the Assembly of a Storyteller

"Well, it's finished, but what're all these extra parts for?"

These are not the words of a Seasoned Pro. I think I can honestly lay claim to a journeyman's competence as a storyteller, but I don't think I'm any master craftsman. This is just me putting together some of the things that made some stories really stick with me. Last installment, I talked about how good worldbuilding, particularly how well-thought-out cultures and civilizations led me to feel immersed in a story.

On to characters.

If I'd known that Campbell's "Hero's Journey" was a thing that existed when I started writing and examining my own reading and viewing history, it would've helped me process why some stories engaged me so strongly. I'd grasped the concept of character development arcs in a rude, ape-like sort of way. Like Mugwump of the Hill People's understanding that gravity was a thing that existed without knowing its name or how to calculate terminal velocity. I knew that if I held an object up and released it, the object would fall. And if it fell on my toe it would hurt, and some things hurt more than others.

So, when I heard writers talking "Campbell Campbell Campbell! Hero's Journey!" I read up and did a lot of "Oh, so that's what this is called! There's… a process? Cool!" More on some journeys later in this post.

Different people like different things in characters. This is the personal taste part of the show. I might appreciate the craftsmanship that goes into creating an unlikeable but complex main character, but I really don't have time to hang out with people I don't like. The Thomas Covenant books are lauded as fine work, but as characters go, I'd have pushed that guy down some stairs and have no urge to re-read them.

See, I want characters I'd enjoy spending time with. And a great character played by a perfectly cast and skilled actor can read soup labels for an hour and opine about monosodium glutamate and be entertaining.

So, regarding Imaginary Friends I'd enjoy hanging out with. Harry Dresden and Miles Vorkosigan come to mind. Amiable, stand-up, do-right guys who're witty and engaging and still have their share of flaws and weaknesses. More on them later, great books writers of great books which deserve a dedicated post. For now, I'd like to stick with movies and TV. Characters who are just too damn engaging to ignore.

Most of the characters in Babylon 5 had solid developmental arcs. It wasn't just Captain Hero leading his loyal and heroic crew, as much fun as such fluff can be sometimes. Babylon 5 treated me to a whompy big cast of characters, each with their own virtues and vices, and sometimes conflicting priorities, which opens up a whole big can of squiggly plot shoggoths.

It made me realize that character development's not just needed for the Big Dogs. Supporting cast needs to be more than "Oh, I love it when that guy says funny things! And when that other fellow goes Implacable Snowplow of Ass-whupping on the bad guys!"

Fusco on Person of Interest is a damn fine example of how supporting characters can be really made to shine in terms of development. Not just the "Oh, this guy's funny, I hope we see more of him," but "Damn, look at him go! Who'd have thunk it?" Fusco started out the stereotypical dirty cop straight from Central Casting, but once he was swept up in the wake of Reese and Finch he found his way back to being not just a good cop, but a Bonafide hero. Full props to Kevin Chapman for really knocking that role out of the park.

Side note: A supporting cast that evolves and grows with the main protagonists makes for a much more solid foundation for an engaging story. I realized that I couldn't afford to neglect the spear-carriers. Plus, it raises the stakes when a writer decides to murd—ah, when the story goes in an unexpected direction.

“Your shirt…”

Okay, I could've gone with a leaf on the wind, but it's too soon. So's Tara, come to think of it…

Anyway, sometimes, we follow along on a character's entire journey. Babylon 5 brought us G'Kar, who started out something of a blustering bully and a pretty smarmy kind of guy who's one leer short of a giggidy. Then he went and evolved into an icon of honor and gentle wisdom, in no small part due to Andreas Katsulas' brilliant performance.

Londo Mollari's journeys brought him to moments of righteous honor and outright villainy. His weakness was his pride and hunger for status and recognition, but those were blended with a genuine dedication to the Centauri people. Note that he really didn't, honestly couldn't, differentiate between The Glorious Centauri Republic and the Centauri people themselves. The idea that what benefited one might not always benefit the other just wasn't on his radar beyond a "well, that's just how politics work" sort of outlook.

Unfortunately, what was best for the Centauri increasingly came to coincide with what was best for his career. He let his ambition lead him down a dark path. As Jim Butcher I believe once commented, "Londo was weak. Londo always does what's best for Londo." But the man wasn't a sociopath. He came to feel remorse and regret when it sank in the victims of his ambition were people, not statistics or game pieces. Took some personal loss of his very own to do that.

Ultimately, his developmental arc led him to reclaim his honor, and even to a bitterly earned redemption.

POI cast standoff

Other times, a show begins at the middle or even close to the end of the character's developmental arc, and his history is doled out to us over time.

As a kid, I loved Starbuck and Buck Rogers, but rewatching that goofy old TV Sci Fi's kind of flat these days, save for the nostalgia factor. Not just because it was cheap, network TV level writing, but because there wasn't much meat and potatoes for overall story or character arcs.

A great example of a character with character is Reese in Person of Interest. We start out with Reese having already marched through some hellish places on his hero's journey. A diligent and patriotic soldier broken by a betrayal of faith and personal loss. Dude's a wreck, working on suicide by bourbon until he's offered a hand up. A chance to be the man he thought he was before and thinks he can never be again. A protector of innocents and all the values he felt he'd been led to betray. Miles to go before he sleeps, but he's already been on a tremendous and brutal journey.

Then there's Finch, who has become something he never wanted to be or ever imagined being. There's still some traveling for him, but the majority of his journey, the events that defined the man, have already occurred and are revealed in flashbacks which demonstrate who he is now. He's not the only one POI gave a great arc to. That's the nice thing about a series that weaves stories together on multiple layers.

Shaw, Root, The Machine, and even Samaritan's head operative had great development, although Greer’s was unloaded in a single episode where the flashbacks to his MI5 days illustrated why his villainy made perfect sense…to him. Those are just a few of the supporting characters who traveled far as the story wove in and out of the rescues and daring deeds.

You could say that ultimately, the series was about The Machine's evolution beyond what I call the Turing Point. From Artificial Intelligence, a thing of subroutines and pure calculation, into Synthetic Intelligence which comes with intuition, true emotion, and a moral and ethical structure that isn't based on code and if/then statements. (Seriously, it's a great show. The show's got its share of TV tropes such as the frequency with which the Knocked Out and Got Caught card is played, but overall, the writing is nicely layered with some story threads being remarkably subtle as they weave their way through and beneath the main story.)

“Father. I’m sorry. I failed you. I don’t know how to win. I had to invent new rules…”

At later date, I'll ramble about antagonists, vile villains, and frenemies.