the hero and for us, that we can never look at our world the same way again. Others may be lingering on the platform, they may talk about the trip, but in truth it's only talk; they've never actually been anywhere.
It's because change is not only astounding, it's painful.
Every story is “The Caterpillar and the Butterfly.”
We start with a caterpillar living among the tall branches, eating green leaves, waving “hi!” to his caterpillar pals, little knowing that his is a life of profound deficiency. And then one day, an odd feeling comes over him that's so scary, it's like a freefall. Something strange is happening. And that something… is death. That's what the cocoon stage is. As caterpillar becomes chrysalis, he dies. He, and everything he knows, is no more. Can you imagine? But when it seems like this purgatory will never end, when things look blackest, there's another stirring; our hero sees light, and now he breaks through a weak spot in his prison, to sunlight… and freedom. And what emerges is something he never dreamed of when this all began, something…
amazing
!
That's every story.
And if you call that “formula”…
You're still on the train platform talking about it.
Because change hurts.
And only those who've had to change, and felt the pain of it, know that at a certain point it is also inevitable. It's like those
Tom and Jerry
cartoons where Jerry the mouse ties a string to Tom the cat's tail, and runs the end all over the house, then anchors it to an anvil up on the roof. With one push, the look on Tom's face tells us he knows… he's going! And there will come a moment — like it or not — when he's pulled ass-backwards through a keyhole! Overall, we'd prefer Tom to experience this sensation.
And that's why we tell stories.
There are all kinds of ways to map out this change, but never forget that's what we're charting here. We will get bored not seeing change occur. Despite all the pyrotechnics you throw our way that dazzle us so, we must experience life. And the trouble we get into as screenwriters comes when we think “The Caterpillar and the Butterfly” is too simple to apply to us.
So how do you find the transformation in
your
story?
In
Save the Cat!, Save the Cat! Goes to the Movies
, and chapter two of this book, I go into great detail about two different maps to chart change: the 15 beats of the Blake Snyder Beat Sheet and the 40 beats of The Board.
But in the course of teaching structure, I've found another way, a third map, that may be the easiest way to see story yet. This is the “flow chart” that shows The Transformation Machine that is change in action. It illustrates how, in the process of change, the hero dies and the person emerging at the other end is wholly new. We can actually track that change using this chart.
Are you ready for a little change yourself?
THREE WORLDS
We start with the fact there are three different “worlds” in a well-structured story. We hear these worlds called many things, including Act One, Act Two, and Act Three, but I prefer to think of them as “Thesis,” “Antithesis,” and “Synthesis.”
Thesis is the world “as is”; it's where we start. You as the writer have to set the world up for us and tell us its rules — even if you think they are obvious. Where we mostly get into trouble as screenwriters is discounting the need to stand in the shoes of the audience who know nothing of what's in our brilliant imaginations. We have to be considerate — and clear. What is the historic time period? What strata of society are we in? Is it fantasy-or reality-based? Who is our hero? Is he underdog or overlord? What is his burning desire? The world of
Gladiator
is different from
Blade Runner
and different again from
Elf
. When we open our eyes, what do we see, who's in charge, what are the codes of conduct? And what are this world's deficiencies?
In each of the movies cited above, there's also a systemic problem: an empire in
Terry McMillan
Micah Gurley
Brooke Hauser
1920-1959 Boris Vian
Claire Robyns
Mandy Morton
Michelle Day
Sarah Strohmeyer
Brenda Novak
Sloan Storm