Good Choices are Essential for Compelling Stories

Recently I was discussing the first draft of a novel. The climax came when the main character was torn between a job presentation - her boss claimed she would let everyone at work down if she didn't make it in that day - and her baby's health. Now, call me irresponsible, but there aren't many circumstances when I'd put my work ahead of a very ill child and none of them seemed applicable here.

I'm prepared to accept that, had I read the whole novel rather than a synopsis, I would have been swept away by the main character's dilemma, but in general compelling stories feature characters making difficult choices. The choices need to be proper ones, and the more evenly weighted they are, the more compelling your story.

Does Superman save Lois Lane, or the world? Does he follow his head, or his heart? Will Lizzie accept the repulsive Mr Collins and save her family fortune? Or turn him down and risk penury? Frodo could return to his beloved Shire and leave the ring at Elrond's house. Pip could give up his snobbish aspirations of being a gentleman and go back to Joe Gargery's forge and marry Biddy. Would you shop your child to the police? Or would you burn everything that linked them with the crime?

The more compelling the arguments are on both sides, the more compelling your story.

Lessons from Toy Story 3: The Most Important Character Trait

Lots of people have said Toy Story 3 is about growing up, about leaving childhood behind. Well, yes, I suppose it is, but I think there's another, more interesting theme going on. It's about loyalty, specifically, loyalty to a group versus loyalty to an individual.

Loyalty is the one characteristic no main character can afford to lack. I think it's the one that readers value most highly. Even anti-heroes such as Hannibal Lecter display loyalty. And the real bad guys are usually the ones who should be loyal - to their friends, to their country, to their cause - and yet sell out.

What I loved about Toy Story 3 is the way Woody is conflicted. He loves Andy, and Andy is loyal to him: he's going to take Woody away to college with him, but leave the other toys safe in the attic. The other toys, not unnaturally, want to be played with and loved. They want to go elsewhere. Woody has a big conflict here: he wants to stay loyal to the group AND loyally go away to college with Andy. He will have to choose...

It's a great situation. Both options are "good" options, but he can't do both. The conflict drives the story. Sometimes he makes a choice, but circumstances draw him back to make the choice again. There isn't a right choice, and a wrong choice - both options involve someone getting hurt. It's a fabulous conflict, applicable in many situations. Superman has it - does he save the earth, or Lois Lane? Or Alec Leamas in John le Carre's The Spy Who Came In From the Cold, who must choose between personal loyalty and loyalty to his country.

Often for the conflict to be resolved the writer must find a third way. Woody's conflict is resolved at the end in a very satisfying way, and so is Alec Leamas' although it has a very different feel. But what has kept us gripped is the big decision - which should they choose? Which would you choose?

Dilemmas, Dilemmas

I've just done something awful. I've thrown away my daughter's Christmas money. I am truly sorry about it, but in my defense, leaving your money wrapped up in a tissue at the bottom of a used supermarket carrier bag along with old sweet wrappers and then leaving the bag to fester for several days in the sitting room is asking for trouble. Especially when the days you leave the bag festering coincide with rubbish day. And even more so when you are congenitally untidy and it's not the first time money has been lost due to being left hanging around with used bus tickets.

So I feel sort of justified in accidentally throwing the money away. But I also feel guilty for not checking thoroughly. But justified because it's really a bit much to expect me to check through all her rubbish on the off chance. And guilty because she's feeling broke at the moment. And justified because her room is a tip, and the bathroom is a tip and she never clears up after herself. And guilty...and justified...and guilty...

My dilemma - should I replace the money?

I don't know what to do. But I know it would make a good minor dilemma for a character. (Minor because it is very domestic and, hey, it's only money we're talking about, not life or death.) A good character dilemma is one where both sides are equally attractive or unpleasant, there are pluses and minuses for each side. If I'm tough now and don't replace the money, then maybe she'll start being more careful with her possessions. But it was my fault, even if I didn't do it on purpose. I don't know what the right thing to do is, and if I were writing this scene, I'd go through the options as I have done here. Hopefully, readers would also find the choice a difficult one to make. Then the character would make their choice and the novel would play out the consequences, good or bad.

Good dilemmas make for good books. Sophie's Choice by William Styron comes to mind, with its heart-rending central dilemma. We can talk about them, debate them, have arguments about a good dilemma. Meanwhile, back at home, I'm still dithering which is not an attractive character trait. Dilemmas, dilemmas. What would you do?