Motivation
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about motivation – this essential ingredient in compelling storytelling. The five novels in two series that I have published to date all fall into the category of mysteries. I also read mysteries, lots of them. In a mystery, there are plenty of exotic motivations: the sleuth, be she amateur or pro, has a strong reason for wanting to find the killer. It’s her job. Or, it was her husband or sister or best friend who was done in. Or if she solves the case she’ll also resolve an incapacitating secret from her past. The killer has motivations too. Money, jealousy, fear, or revenge taken to the extreme. Some of them are beyond our comprehension – who would kill a child? – and we align ourselves passionately with the sleuths seeking truth and justice. We readers are hooked, exactly what the author wants.
All of the sub-genres within the larger genre of crime fiction rely on intense motivations, even if they’re hidden from the reader for most of the story to create a puzzle or a surprise. We read, following the clues, and for the most part, thank our lucky stars we are not driven by the abnormal emotions that lead the fictional characters into dark corners of the soul (or the attic).
Right now, I’m looking beyond the genre I’ve been so happy in, to try my hand at a novel that doesn’t fit my familiar tropes. My characters still need powerful reasons to act outside their norms, but they’re going to be motivations from what I’d call “everyday” life. That’s not to say they’re not intensely felt, but the intensity has to sit within their ordinary universes. The drive to achieve their goals isn’t going to be triggered by something as dramatic as a body in the garden shed, but it has to be major drama to them. So what if Susie desperately wants a promotion, or Denzel is fired up by a desire to get a small government contract? It’s the why of these ambitions – and the strength of the obstacles – that will provide the basis for the story, and, I hope, that necessary hook for readers.
Better writers than I’ll ever be have dealt with the elevation of normal-seeming motivations into the kinds of obsessions that can rival murder: The Great Gatsby, Pride and Prejudice, Anna Karenina… Current writers in mainstream commercial fiction do it well, and there are stirring memoirs and biographies of individuals who rode their deepest desires through chasms of difficulty to thrilling successes.
As I create a family in challenging times, I’m reminding myself that it’s the reason the protagonists want it, the risks to their status they’re willing to take, and the power of the obstacles that stand in the way that make a good story. Like in a crime novel, the barriers to reaching the goal create tension, and sympathy or empathy push readers to take sides in the struggle.
A crime fiction author whose class I took said all stories are about “intention and obstacle.” So, as I tackle a new genre, I’m building a palette of motivations that don’t require dead bodies to be understandable, and obstacles from the “everyday” world that are real and huge. The characters in this novel may not have to solve murders, but they will find have to discover their own courage under pressure, and I hope my readers will take the hook and cheer them on to victory!
Author photo credit: Cheshire Isaacs
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