Can there be anything more dramatic than a story of revenge?! That initial stinging feeling of being unjustly wronged, the wicked and intensely private scheming that goes on as one plans what is dutifully owed the offender, and finally the execution of said sweet reward. Nothing is more universal than the satisfaction of one getting what one so rightly deserves.

But how does one go about constructing a story like this?

Recently I was asked where exactly on the Dramatica Table of Story Elements one would find the quality of revenge. For those unfamiliar with the theory the Table of Story Elements looks a little something like this:

These boxes represent all the different parts of a well-structured story. Pretty intimidating, right? And not at all useful for a writer who considers himself an artist, one who doesn’t like being boxed in by charts or grids.

Who Should You Listen To?

I’ve been catching up lately with a fantastic screenwriting blog by someone known only as the Mystery Man on Film (I have no idea who writes it, it’s a mystery!). Having only recently discovered it after he referenced one of my articles in a post about character arcs, I feel I’ve got quite a bit of reading to do. The articles are well-written, well-argued and teeming with useful information on all things screenwriting (above all I’m jealous of the immense time he seems to have to write such in-depth articles!).

In his latest post he writes rather disapprovingly of story gurus and story consultants:

Let’s imagine that we are all aspiring musicians and/or songwriters. One day, a man (who is not a musician and has never once written a song in his entire life) comes into town. He holds a “Conference for Aspiring Songwriters” (for $250 a pop, mind you), and tells the packed crowd of young hopefuls that all songs must follow the AABA formula.

It’s quite obvious where he’s headed with this and to a point he is correct - why listen to someone who has never found professional success?

My feeling though is that if the advice resonates with you, if it makes things clearer for you, why not listen to him or her? Isn’t it more important that you found some inspiration when you needed it?

The art lies in how the form is explored; not the form itself

Chris Huntley, one of the co-creators of the Dramatica theory, has never sold a screenplay yet I still find him one of the most brilliant minds in story out there. I can’t tell you the insight I’ve gained reading his work or attending his classes; it’s immeasurable. And I have the same respect for Linda Seger, Christopher Vogler, Richard Krevolin and yes, even Robert McKee (although to a much lesser extent). All these people have had an impact on my understanding of story. It matters little to me that they haven’t won an Oscar.

Besides, most often those who are deep within their art rarely have time to give good advice (John August being the exception). In my profession as an animator, the very best of the best don’t keep blogs or teach classes; they’re too busy creating at a high level!

But it really is the MysteryMan’s take on the dangers of form in art that I wanted to address. 

Constraints in Art

At first glance using a chart like the one above to write a story seems extremely counter-intuitive and, dare I say the screenwriter’s ultimate dirty word, formulaic. Having to force your characters into tiny little boxes sounds so stifling to the idea of creating great art. But there is great freedom to be found in that chart.

Thanks to Merlin Mann (a productivity guru!), I was exposed to a wonderful piece by Paul Ford on the value of having constraints in art:

Now when I face a new writing project, I open a spreadsheet. I want a grid to keep track of sources and dates, or to make certain that the timeline of a story makes sense. The grid imposes brevity. Relationships between sentences are exposed. Editing becomes a more explicit act of sorting, shuffling, balancing paragraphs.

This might be a bit overkill, but it is clear that having some sort of walls from which to work within can benefit an artistic endeavor. In animation, scenes only have a certain number of frames from which to work within and dialogue must be strictly adhered to. The art, it turns out, comes from having to work against this resistance to create something better than what you would’ve come up with without any restrictions.

I agree that Syd Field’s model of Three Acts of determinate length (30, 60, 30 pages) can be a bit monotonous and that McKee’s claim that every character must arc can come across as tyrannical. But these popular notions of storytelling persist for a reason; the seminars are attended and the books are sold because people find resonance with the work that is presented. Perhaps then there is a better way of incorporating these models into a work of art?

I think it’s not so much the form that is problematic as it is how these forms are explored. The art then comes by working within these boundaries to create something that has never been seen before.

So how then do you maintain form without being formulaic?

This is where Dramatica comes in.

What about Revenge?

So where exactly can one find revenge on the Dramatica Table of Story Elements?

The truth is you won’t find it anywhere. But at the same time, you can find it everywhere.

Each element on that chart is referred to as an appreciation, each representing a different way of appreciating a story point. Working your way down the chart from top to bottom you have four levels: Genre, Plot, Theme and Character. So even though you won’t find the exact word “revenge” anywhere in that chart, you can apply the concept of revenge to any appreciation of a story.

The easiest level to look at is the Character level (the one at the very bottom). Here you can find several different aspects of character motivation that speak of revenge - Pursuit, Reaction, Equity. Any of these can be at the heart of what is driving your characters to seek out that revenge. It’s a simple matter of assigning this appreciation to your character and writing with it in mind.

But there are other more elegant ways of incorporating revenge into a story.

For example, you could start at the top and decide what Genre of revenge story you want to write. The story could explore revenge in terms of actions taken, as in the movie Unforgiven, or it could explore a more psychologically tortuous type of revenge, as in Hamlet’s personal story of avenging his father’s death. Both stories explore revenge, the difference lies in the overall feeling of the piece.

Unforgiven examines revenge from more of an objective viewpoint. Therefore you would find most of the characters in that story dealing with the appreciations under Activities. Hamlet, on the other hand, takes a more personal look at revenge. Therefore you would find most of what Hamlet himself is dealing with under Manipulations (think of the many ways he goes about trying to manipulate himself into taking action).

But Activities do not always have to be explored objectively as in the example of Unforgiven above. You could also explore them on a more personal level as in Braveheart. In Unforgiven, everyone in that story is involved in some way or another with exacting revenge on the cowboys who cut up the whores. Some are against it, others are for it.

In Braveheart you have William Wallace dealing personally with the problems created by exacting some sort of personal revenge for the murder of his wife. To be sure others are affected by his actions, but it is through him that we feel what it is really like to engage in these activities personally.

William Munny’s personal problem has more to do with him overcoming this idea of being a “bad man.”

Both Unforgiven and Braveheart show revenge as an activity; the difference lies in how the authors chose to explore it. The former chose to look at it from more of an objective standpoint while the latter chose a more intimate look. Again the art lies in how it is explored; not what is being examined.

You could also explore thematic elements of revenge - like the way people engage in revenge vs. their demeanor in doing so. If this was the kind of story you wanted to write you would be exploring the issues of Approach vs. Attitude (remember Theme is found on the third level down on the chart). For a more “heady” or intellectual kind of story you could also explore how people bent on revenge really are vs. how they see themselves. This you would find under State of Being vs. Sense of Self. Your story would then examine how these conflicting thematic issues affect the nature of revenge.

And finally you could explore revenge in terms of plot. It’s a little more complicated to explain with just the chart above, but there are certain act progressions that will lead to a happy ending and others that will lead to tragedy. And this exploration can be furthered by examining what really drives the revenge - are actions forcing decisions to be made or are decisions forcing actions to be taken? Those are two very different kinds of stories and as such, will feel very different to an audience.

You could even go further and decide whether you want to explore revenge as it comes to conflict over a certain deadline or as a result of someone running out of options.

In short, you could do anything!

Writing with Constraints

The title of Ford’s post was “No Resistance is Futile” and I think it applies much to this discussion about form in storytelling. Although the chart presented in this article can be quite daunting at first, once its use is fully understood it opens up a limitless range of possible stories.

While a fully realized story will explore several appreciations, different stories will concentrate on different areas of the chart. The mechanism for how this works and the rules behind it all is explored elsewhere within this site. For now, it is enough to realize that you can attack a story from any different angle and that there is great flexibility from within the structure. It is up to the author to assign the context to an appreciation.

Freedom within form.

In the end, the only limit, of course, is your imagination. But at least this way there will be some form to it, some type of structure to your art that will keep it from getting away from you and as a result possibly getting away from your audience. The structure of a story works because it allows an audience to know that you aren’t wasting their time; that there is some greater meaning you are working towards and that you wish to convey it to them clearly and fully.

Form ensures that the meaning will not be lost.

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Somewhat related to this article

• The Short Lived Life of a Story Project→

• The Storytelling Equivalent of Pi→

• dramatica can help break you out of a rut→

• using Dramatica to write short stories→

• Start Writing→