Protagonists and structure (part 1)
Why it matters and when it looks like it doesn't.
An interesting question having to do with protagonists, viewpoint characters, and structure came my way at FantaSci.
I got to teach an impromptu class (impromptu because I agreed to teach something on Friday and had to teach without prep or slides on Sunday) on how to develop an idea (or a character or theme or whatever you start with) into a story.
The question on how to structure for multiple protagonists reminded me of another question related to this subject.
Some time back I posted a question about handling dual protagonists in a writing group. My question got great engagement but revealed something else. 95% of the people who responded conflated viewpoint character with protagonist. Most of the answers had to do with how many viewpoint characters you should (or shouldn’t) have, how to handle scene breaks (the whole three asterisk thing), how much to flesh them out, and so on. Obviously I should have clarified things, i.e. phrased my question differently (this is why I so often have parentheses or m-dashes in my writing).
It may seem obvious that not all viewpoint characters are protagonists, but it’s not. When I ask, “How are dual-protagonist stories different from single-protagonist stories?” and most of the answers are about delineating scene breaks or putting each one in a different chapter or alternating between them, there is an obvious need for clarification.
The question at FantaSci, had to do with how to handle the structural turning points when you had multiple viewpoints. It is an adjacent question and actually a very good one.
We were talking about using structure to help us write a story from an idea, i.e. the notion of turning points at the end of each of the four acts (for the 4-act structure), of pinch-points at the 1/3 and 2/3 marks, mirror moment, and so on.
So let’s say you have three or four or five character-viewpoints in a story. How do you handle the turning- and pinch-points for each?
And the answer is, well, complicated.
As my previous question to the writing group revealed, even among writers, there is confusion between protagonist and viewpoint character. So let’s look at terminology.
First, what is a viewpoint character?
The following image is one I use in my viewpoint classes to teach the difference between viewpoint, perspective, and narrative schema, all of which are tightly intertwined and beyond the scope of this article.
This image represents the omniscient narrative schema, i.e. what most people mean when they say that they write omniscient viewpoint. The term “viewpoint” is confusing because it’s unclear.
In the omniscient narrative schema, the camera represents what is on the page. The Voice on the page is that of the author-narrator. The spoken dialogue belongs to the characters, but everything else is supposed to be author-narration. If it’s not, it’s a viewpoint violation, usually a head-hop.
The lines represent the author-narrator’s ability to observe the mindset of each person in the scene, i.e. his omniscient ability to float viewpoint from character to character, hopefully without the promiscuity of head-hopping or channel surfing. The omni author-narrator can narrate Red’s (the red character) perspective, then float (via transitions) to Blue (the blue character) and tell us things from his perspective, then to the two gray people, then to the dog, and so on.
Imagine that the scene above is a home birth. Red is having Blue’s baby and the two gray people are a doctor and a nurse. An omniscient narrator can describe what is going on from all four viewpoints/perspectives in the same scene.
The omniscient author-narrator may write a paragraph from Red’s perspective (i.e. what some may call her viewpoint) and tell us how much pain she is in but how excited she is, then float viewpoint in the next paragraph to Blue’s perspective and tell us that “Blue thought about how beautiful this amazing woman looked as she strained to bring a new life into the world,” then float viewpoint to the Dr. Gray who describes to us that the head is crowning as he delivers the baby, then he hands the baby off to the nurse, Mrs. Gray (they’re a husband-wife team), and in the next paragraph we get the nurse’s perspective.
Then the omniscient author-narrator can even float viewpoint to Fido who’s been locked into his crate to keep him from being underfoot and give us a God’s-eye-perspective (something none of our four human perspectives can give us) like this: In the other room, Fido was looking forlorn. Only the omniscient narrator can tell us something that the viewpoint characters can’t see.
Because this is called “floating viewpoint” one might think that there are four human viewpoints in this narration, and one would be right. Technically, there are four viewpoints, and four viewpoint characters, but all of the narration belongs to the author.
In an omniscient book, there might be thirty-two (or a hundred) characters to whom an author might attribute perspective (i.e. make a “viewpoint”), even if only for one brief paragraph. The perspectives that are used the most are going to be principal characters. In a sweeping epic, the need for that many characters requires author-narration in order to keep it from becoming too fractured or disjointed. The unity provided by the author-narrator Voice is an asset, almost a requirement.
But that does not mean that there are four or five or thirty-two protagonists. Even if the narration is evenly divided between, let’s say, three of them.
Before you jump in to say, “Wait, I know this. I know that Leia and Han are not protagonists, even though they are viewpoint characters in the Star Wars novelization. Luke is the protagonist.”
And you know that because Star Wars is very clear on this point. But not everyone knows it, because I have run into people who think that viewpoint characters or important characters or characters who have arcs are all protagonists. I have run into people who argue that Darth Vader was the protagonist because he drove the story, or because the Star Wars trilogy was ultimately about the redemption of Anakin Skywalker. So I know there is some confusion on this.
I call Luke, Leia, and Han, principal characters. They are the important characters, but both Leia and Han are secondary or supporting characters, no matter how much we love them or even if they have arcs. Leia has a flat one, while Han becomes less of a rogue/jerk.
What is a protagonist?
The protagonist is the person about whom we ask the story’s central question (Schechter): Will Luke destroy the Death Star, save the princess (notice how she’s not even named), and become a Jedi like his father?
Luke has the main character arc as well. What’s confusing about this is that often the definition is that it’s the character who changes the most, but that’s not always true.
BigNameAuthor can and does get away with a flat arc, one where the character does not change, but instead changes the world around him. BigNameAuthor can get away with this but you (probably) can’t unless you’re a unicorn. And a lot of your mass media tie-in or mass media adjacent novels have flat arcs for what we consider the “main character” who is the “protagonist.” The reason they have to have flat arcs is because they can’t afford to change. The ka-ching will go away if the (usually work-for-hire) author progresses the character too much. Which is why the character development (the arc) is often given to secondary characters.
As an example of a well-done flat arc, I give you the first Wonder Woman movie (with Gal Gadot). Diana may have been wrong about who Ares was, but she didn’t change much (unlike Thor in the first Thor movie). Instead she changed the world around her. That’s the flat arc. A flat-arc character changes the world around them, usually by sheer force of will, i.e. refusing to change themselves. Sometimes they have a small change arc but the main focus is on changing the world around them. This works really well for demi-gods and superhero movies for a reason. It also allows for lots and lots of sequels, and therefore, ka-ching.
Which is why a lot of this genre (the superhero, the mass-media tie-in and mass-media adjacent) is probably not the best reference material unless you plan on writing in it. There are usually lots of viewpoint characters, but even if they get big chunks of “screen” time in the book, that doesn’t make them the protagonist.
So what if you want to write a book with multiple viewpoints that are equal?
There are dual-protagonist stories out there. Buddy cop movies (like Seven) are dual-protagonist. A lot of Romances are too. My own Ravages of Honor trilogy is dual-protagonist. The Woman in Gold with Helen Mirren and Ryan Reynolds, an excellent film I highly recommend, is dual protagonist.
What about a triple- or quadruple-protagonist novels?
I do not know of any (that does not mean they don’t exist). I do think that in most cases, what may look like a multiple-protagonist novel is actually just a multiple-viewpoint novel told using third-limited rather than omniscient narration.
Third-limited does not float viewpoint, but switches viewpoint characters with each scene, just like third-close. What’s different with third-limited is that despite limiting viewpoint to one character, the narration is distant because it belongs to the author, not the character. Because of the tighter focus and switches in perspective being separate scenes, it is confused with third-close.
Or it’s just omniscient with the scenes evenly divided among the characters. Or maybe it’s actually three or four separate stories that parallel each other and have been packaged together. Sometimes I see this with novels that are actually serials packaged together. Those all use narrative structures that are NOT necessarily the 3- or 4-act structure I usually teach. As such, they also lend themselves to the ka-ching of serialization. So I can understand the confusion among new or aspiring writers who may not be aware of how these things are different while appearing to work the same way, i.e. they have a hero who slays a dragon or blows up a Death Star. It sure looks and smells like the Hero’s Journey (aka 4-act).
Serialization is its own thing. And one of the things I’ve been talking about doing was sitting down and deconstructing Babylon 5, the best serial of all time. Problem is that every time I sit down with it, I want to just enjoy the story, and it would be very time consuming. Another well-done serial has been the Handmaid’s Tale series. I loathe the story but it was so well done in terms of characters, pacing, and plot twists that it kept me guessing until the end. Usually by the end of the first act (the first quarter) of a story I know how it will end based on the inciting event and/or the first turning point. If not by then, then by the mid-point. Handmaid’s Tale kept me for all four-seasons despite my deep abiding hatred of this story. I’m willing to bet you’re all far more interested in Babylon 5 though.
To be continued… (part 2)
Wonderful and Amazing, can't wait for Part 2!
Great post.... structure is critically important, especially in screenwriting (my expertise)... I passed on a script just yesterday, in large part because the first act didn't end until page 55... 50 pages in I still had no idea what the story was.