Tag Archives: writing
The protagonist in your book is there to be the hero (presumably). The protagonist will go through the plot, being sure to grow along the way, and save the world. That is the protagonist’s purpose and the character will probably come to terms with that along the way.
What about the protagonist’s dreams, though? Sure, perhaps they dream of the world being safe or of the Bad Guy reforming, but what did they dream about before being thrust into the hero role?
What your protagonist has always dreamed for themselves will shape the way they carry themselves — body, mind, and soul — throughout the story. Will the dream change along with them as the plot goes further along? Will the dream steadfastly stay in their heart for when everything is all over, to keep that simple hint of normalcy in their lives, even if the plot has made everything change forever?
Which is the better ending, for a protagonist’s dreams to grow with them or to stay the same as they were before the protagonist’s journey, no matter how bittersweet it may have become?
I’ll admit, I personally haven’t given much thought to some of my protagonist’s dreams outside of the plot of their story. It’s something that I want to work on, something that I want to explore about their psyches. What dreams will be put on hold for the plot? Will those dreams be waiting when the plot is done?
More importantly, will the protagonists recognize their old dreams when the plot is over?
You all know Disney’s Cinderella, right? Do you know Cinderella III: A Twist in Time?
This movie is great! Recently, our younger cousins came over to spend the night and we were planning on watching Disney movies the entire time. While we only ended up watching two before they fell asleep, we had our entire stack of Disney movies piled up and ready to go.
Rachel and I realized that we were missing a handful of Disney princess movies, so in my Disney high, I went on my Amazon app to buy a couple, including this little gem of a movie. It came out ten years ago and played around with the idea of the Stepmother stealing the Fairy Godmother’s wand to turn back time and make it so the slipper fit one of her daughters instead of Cinderella.
It was a fun take on the question all writers tend to ask themselves: “What if?” It was definitely one of the better Disney sequels out there, keeping fairly true to the original animation, music, and voices. If you’re a Disney fan and you ever get the chance to watch this movie, I hope you enjoy it too!
Blight – Part Two
The Blight was not a friendly part of the castle city, not even to someone in a respectable uniform of one of the noble houses. The alleys stank of piss and sex, the natural musk of those who cared only enough to live in order to survive.
Emery did his best to move out of there as quickly as his dignity could manage.
“There you are.” Ridge let Emery back in through the servants’ entrance of the Harding estate. “You’re in one piece, to boot. How did it go?”
Emery shook his head. “Not too well. Thieves apparently are only interested in their own pockets. They want to be certain they get rewarded no matter what they do.”
“Well, it was a long-shot,” Ridge said, helping Emery shuck off the soldier’s uniform and change into his fitted tunic and breeches. “After all, what could a common foot soldier offer to the scourges of the Blight? They have no idea who you are, right?”
“I used the name Dax Cabot whenever I had been asked,” Emery said. Ridge gave him a quick glance over to ensure Emery hadn’t been looking as if he crawled through the dirtiest part of the city, then led him out of the servants’ area.
“Wasn’t that the name of your old tutor?” Ridge asked.
Emery shushed him, but nodded. Talk of Emery’s trip to the Blight ceased between the two friends as they made their way through the manor. Gods knew Emery didn’t want any gossipy maids overhearing that their prince had tried to make deals with thieves.
Ridge changed the topic to a teasing, “My parents are seating you next to Leandra again at dinner tonight.”
Emery gave Ridge a sidelong glance. “You know nothing is going to come of this.”
“Of course,” Ridge said. “You would never be able to handle my sister. It’s why it’s such fun to tease you about my parents trying to set you up. You can’t blame them for wanting the match, though. I heard they had to petition hard to have the crown prince himself go through his squire years at their estate.”
Emery gave his head a soft shake, finding no words. He had no doubt that once he did return to court there would be women lined up as potential brides, both from his parents and from the other noble houses alike.
“There are times when I wish Leandra and I cared enough about each other to go through that,” Emery admitted quietly. “She would never want to be queen, though, and I wouldn’t want to force her to play the part.”
“As her brother, I suppose I’m thankful you care enough about her to think of her feelings like that,” Ridge said. “That and, let’s be real, she’s not delicate enough to be a queen.”
“I’ve no idea where you’ve come up with that thought,” Emery said. “Queens are anything but delicate.”
“Well, yes, I’m sure,” Ridge said, waving off Emery’s words, “but they need to play that part, don’t they? Your mother is the gentle hand compared to your father’s iron fist. Leandra would end up insulting most of the court. Under her, a rebellion would have happened long ago—”
Emery gave Ridge a hard jab in the ribs with an elbow. Ridge glared at Emery but said nothing, grudgingly accepting the admonishment.
“Come on,” Emery said, quickening their pace through the estate’s hallways. “We’ll be late for sparring practice.”