#narrative techniques

A fun persuasive essay by me, Portal Maker! ☺️

Thesis Statement:

I have pondered the evidence, and I believe it would've made more sense narratively for Prowl to have somehow survived giving up his spark in the TFA S3 finale.

Exhibit A: He said 'risk' his chassis, not 'sacrifice' his chassis.

  In S3:E6 of TFA (Five Servos of Doom), we see a flashback where Prowl says to Yoketron, "Why should I risk my chassis for anyone? Nobody ever risked their chassis for me!"

  'Risk' and 'sacrifice' are two different words with very distinct meanings. Prowl risked his chassis for others constantly during the course of the show: fighting the Decepticons and the human villains; rescuing the Dinobots; protecting Bumblebee and Sari from the space barnacles, etc. And the other members of Team Prime put their own chassis at risk for Prowl's sake during the show as well. The most notable example is probably when Bulkhead helped him rescue the Dinobots and agreed to keep it a secret from everyone in S1:E6 (Blast from the Past). When Prowl sacrificed his spark in order to accumulate and contain all the broken shards of the Allspark itself (S3:E13), he didn't just put himself at risk - he sacrificed his very life.

Exhibit B: Yoketron's First Lesson

  The first lesson Yoketron ever taught Prowl was about the rewards that come with opening oneself up to new relationships - an inherently risky act. In the same flashback from S3:E6, Yoketron replies:

"Keeping you out of the Stockade, I am risking something for you. But if you are willing to learn, that risk could be very rewarding."

  This lesson definitely applies to Prowl's personal character flaws, as well as his implied past experiences. Yoketron understood that Prowl's selfish outlook stemmed from an utter lack of healthy, caring relationships with other bots. He was also willing to put himself at risk for the chance to mentor Prowl, and help him grow into his full potential. Throughout the episode, we see more flashbacks that indicate how caring and trustworthy Yoketron was as Prowl's master. And near the end of his training, he declared that Prowl could become his greatest student, as long as he mastered the advanced technique of processor-over-matter.

  We don't know the exact level of risk Yoketron accepted when he took Prowl in. But it was never treated as though he had put his own life in danger. And in the end, both of them reaped valuable rewards as a result of their relationship.

Exhibit C: Prowl achieved his 'character want' and his 'character need' before death was even on the table.

  In the art of storytelling, a single character often has two goals - one they pursue consciously (their 'want'), and one they pursue unconsciously (their 'need'). In Transformers: Animated, Prowl's 'want' is his goal to master the technique of processor-over-matter, while his 'need' is to achieve a sense of belonging with other bots. Mastering processor-over-matter is the final step necessary to complete his training, and officially take his place among the Cyberninja Corps. But Prowl is unable to achieve his 'want' goal until after he achieves his 'need' goal. He finds the sense of belonging and community that he's so desperate for as a member of the repair crew led by Optimus Prime. He also gets much needed closure about his past when he finally discovers who murdered Yoketron. Only then is he able to commune with the Allspark and unlock the full power of processor-over-matter.

  And he achieves both of these goals before facing the problem of protecting Detroit from the self-destructing Omega clones in S3:E13 (Endgame - Part 2).

So what about Yoketron's final lesson?

  The spirit of Yoketron's final lesson doesn't actually apply to the context of Prowl's death. 

  Just before he died in Five Servos of Doom, Yoketron gave Prowl a profound piece of advice that did apply to his doomed (and arguably selfish) attempt to save his master's life:

"You must not sacrifice a piece of the future to bring back the past."

  Prowl's past (what we know of it) was resolved when he achieved both his 'want' and 'need' goals. There were no pieces left to be mis-prioritized over the future that he was finally free to explore. So when Prowl gave up his spark to protect Detroit, he didn't sacrifice the past to preserve the future, as Yoketron advised. He actually sacrificed his own future for the collective futures of his loved ones and the universe. Which, I would argue, is a step beyond Yoketron's final lesson.

In Conclusion: Prowl's Death was an overreach.

Stede is self-centered enough to just not acknowledge or even notice things around him that don't actively interact with his focus which is mostly just Ed. He is self-centered to the point of being delusional about other people and reality of circumstances. Season 2 sees him doing better and his rescue of the crew is his highest point. But we see this even through Season 2 in his interactions with Lucius and during Ed's apology his interactions with Zheng Yi Sao.. Basically anyone not Ed.

Ed is shown to have a negotiable understanding of truth - seen with his Ed/Blackbears/Kraken split, his "I didn't kill them, the fire killed them" dissociation with his own actions, his rewriting of the context of his own memories (Knife parade) or just straight up forgetting shit (Talent show). And yes all of these are trauma responses but that does not dismiss the fact that his perception is far from objective.

Izzy is straight up shown to be lying in his first interaction with Ed regarding Stede. He is aware of his surroundings better than Stede and Ed but he is also supremely blind to himself and his interpersonal relationships. Where Stede is delusional about the world he can be interpreted as delusional about himself.

We as the audience ofcourse can put context to their words from their actions and this worked ok in season 1 (not always but mostly and that becomes important later) But Season 2 leans much more heavily on tell without show. (Yes yes budget cuts...but that doesn't change the final product).

Where season 1 added some flavour of back story with tell dont show, Season 2 expects dialogue to do all the heavy lifting (none more than Izzy's death speech) without this dialogue being backed up by action. Worse (or better) this dialogue isn't exposition which makes the scene better but which also means more often then not it is merely hinting at a meaning.

So we have half explained dialogues, sometimes with dubious context, used as a substitute for action given to us by characters with established unreliable perspectives. The heavy lifting of understanding the meaning of these dialogues, their significance and weigtt, has then been shifted to the audience interpretation. This interpretation is of course done per individual interest and bias. This is not bad in itself but remember this has been happening since season 1. Which means the new interpretations are being built on older interpretations. Those little flavour back story hints have now become the lens through which the entire season 2 is meant to be understood.

We are all watching a different show in a sense and that us not a failure of the audience. It is, rather, an accidental byproduct (and a failure) of the show's design because of the combination of all the above factors which was (made worse by the budget cuts leaving less time/space for action)

The show then unfortunately comes down to whose POV are you accepting (and certain fans have turned this into an exercise of moralizing self righteousness.) and to what extant.

A true understanding, imo, can only be by accepting that none of their perspectives are absolutely true and trying to center the objective narrative between all of them in a way that best fits all their perspectives AND accounts for all their blind spots, rather than lift any one POV as the absolute uncritical truth. (And fans on all sides have been guilty of this)

1. Involve your senses in descriptive writing, appealing to sight, sound, touch, taste, and smell.

2. Integrate dialogues effectively to bring characters and situations to life.

3. Use metaphors and similes to make your portrayals more vivid and imaginative.

4. Experiment with unique perspectives or points of view to add a fresh angle to your narrative.

5. Create a strong sense of atmosphere and mood to enhance the overall tone of your piece.

6. Include suspense or surprise elements to enchant your readers.

7. Use symbolism to add layers of meaning to your writing.

8. Develop a consistent and original voice that reflects your personal style.

9. Play with pacing to control the rhythm and flow of your narrative.

10. Show empathy in your character portrayals to make them more relatable.

11. Build pressure gradually and release it strategically for a compelling storyline.

12. Blend humor to inje1ct a touch of personality into your writing.

13. Employ the "show, don't tell" method by allowing actions to reveal emotions and motivations.

14. Break away from linear storytelling with non-linear narrative structures.

15. Try different genres to broaden your writing skills.

16. Frame memorable and thought-provoking endings that leave a lasting impression.

17. Invent a strong opening and closing sentence for each paragraph to enrich structure.

18. Capture unique and conceivable dialogue patterns to make characters distinct.

19. Develop a balance between description and action to maintain a dynamic pace.

20. Use literary devices like foreshadowing or symbolism to add depth to your writing.

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Within the vast landscape of literature, where words are both colors and brushes, the genre of magical realism emerges as a unique and enchanting tapestry. It’s a genre that possesses the alchemical power to blur the boundaries between reality and fantasy, allowing the extraordinary to dance with the ordinary. In this exploration, we dive into the enchanting realm of magical realism, uncovering…

Releasing a reprint of a comic book story at the end of summer that originally was released at the beginning of summer, and we now have one nutty ret-con indeed. This leads to a problem they do not bother addressing with a convoluted rewriting (and if we see anything here, it is that they are not beyond convoluted rewrites) -- the premise of the story is Cheryl Blossom getting a job as a lifeguard. That is a hiring that comes about at the start of summer. It makes no sense to hire at the end of summer, and if they had hired her at the start, then they'd have seen her here and wouldn't be surprised by her presence. Also the events that lead to her firing -- take a wild guess by looking at the cover -- would have naturally occurred before the last week of summer.

As for Reggie and his "bikinis, bikinis, bikinis" --

From there the rewriters at Archie Comics may actually have stumbled, by hook or by crook, onto an innovative narrative technique. It comes with the decision to ret-con this story from introducing Archie to Cheryl's parents, and establishing a relationship, to one where they have already met.

Normally in telling a story, you leave out the details that do not go anywhere. But here, we see a stab at documentation realism -- leaving in pointless asides, the dead ends in conversations which are immediately brushed aside. This is one manner story-telling deviates from real life -- and even the anti-drama of slice of life narration takes on these conventions of drama -- where you are always concerned with advancing plot or establishing and developing characters, at the expense of relaying momentary lapses. I am sure there is a term for this shaggy-doggedness. And while I can understand how the father could forget the details of just another boy Cheryl brought home to fool around with, the class issue that is presented here would seem to be something important enough to distinguish him in his memory. But apparently not.

I understand the logic on this one. You can't model bad behavior. Kids reading may decide it is just fine to take their sports car out for a race on the highway.

*Even as I wonder that, I also realise that there is perhaps one recurrent theme in Teen Wolf which is Lovecraftian in form, but that it is not unique to his work, and not really the 'Cosmic ' side of his stories: the danger that comes from the unknown and from not knowing. Everyone seems to know far more about the supernatural than the main characters. There is a moment when Scott, referring to The Dread Doctors paperback, says "we shouldn't have read that book" [paraphrasing], which is a Lovecraftian theme at heart, but this is a trope of teenage supernatural shows to add oomph, plot and mystery. The main characters cannot know everything because then they would know better than getting involved in supernatural stuff. There's Scott and his pack in the dark, but there's Deaton, Gerard, Peter, et al 'in the know'. But there's Buffy and the Scooby gang vs Giles, Angel, Spike, etc.

To summarize my opinion, Teen Wolf is not Cosmic Horror. It's Personal Horror. Attempts to paint it as Cosmic Horror seem to me to be yet another attempt to decenter the protagonist by making Scott McCall's decisions and actions irrelevant to the story in itself.

I've been flippant in the past while dismissing that particular argument because it seems obvious to the casual observer that the tone and plot of Teen Wolf doesn't presume to render judgment (and one could argue it purposefully refuses to do it) on the nature of the universe. The questions and consequences on which it focuses are fundamentally specific and individual.

To start, I think it's important for me to define what I mean by the different genres.

Cosmic Horror is a story where the actions and beliefs of the protagonist are irrelevant to the ultimate outcome of the story. No matter how they struggle or what motivates them, the protagonist is at the mercy of an indifferent universe. No matter what Henry Armitage has learned, Dread Cthulhu still waits dreaming. No matter how much a man struggles to save his family, in the end they will join the apocalyptic zombie horde as either meat or more walkers. The destiny for the protagonists in the Cabin of the Woods are either entertainment/sacrifice or witnesses to the end of all things. Ultimately, resistance to the darkness is a delaying tactic at best and pointless self-mutilation at worst.

Personal Horror can be just as dark, but the actions and beliefs of the protagonist are fundamental and specific to the story. Even the victims are victims because of decisions -- no matter innocent -- they made. Those poor campers made the decisions to go to Crystal Lake while ignoring the stories surrounding it. Dr. Jekyll's decision to test a potion designed to unleash his darker emotions on himself was his alone. Louis made the decision to accept an offer of immortality by a dandy-fied Lestat.

I would propose that there is a third type, Social Horror, where the actions and motivations of individuals are robbed of their value not by some unknowable and unbeatable force beyond their experience, but by the actions and motivation of a group of individuals whose aggregate power overwhelms the individual with intent. I think Squid Game is a good example of that.

That being said, I think it's quite clear that for all the death and mayhem in Teen Wolf, it's a story of Personal Horror. The universe does not step in to reward the good and punish the bad -- and it most certainly doesn't -- but the universe is not indifferent to the actions and motivations of the characters, either. The supernatural rules create clear consequences, most specifically embodied in "The Shape You Take Reflects the Person That You Are." For example, a werewolf's eyes turn blue when they take the life of an innocent (or the werewolf believes they took a life unjustly -- which is in a way saying the same thing). A true alpha's power come from their convictions and strength of will, not from acts of murder or inheritance. Demon wolves grow stronger and more twisted the more acts of atrocity they commit. The most potent form of evil comes from corruption of good, not from banal, everyday evil. Etc.

In that story, things can be changed and the horror exists in when people choose not to try. In stories of Cosmic Horror, the outcome cannot be changed. In The Call of Cthulhu, even though the Alert rams Cthulhu, it doesn't stop the threat -- the Great Old One retreats to his sunken tomb to sleep until next time. The Walking Dead had ten seasons (I've lost count) and the dead are still walking. The source of horror doesn't end, regardless of the protagonist's condition or survival.

But the source of horror changes constantly in Teen Wolf. Derek found another way. Deucalion renounced violence. Meredith truly helps. Mason won't be possessed by Sebastien Valet again. There's still death and physical violation and injustice, but it's never, ever, ever seen as inevitable. It's individuals hurting other individuals; it's not a function of how things have to be.

The attempt to label Teen Wolf as Cosmic Horror is an attempt to repudiate the central protagonist's actions and philosophies. To them, Scott McCall believing he can somehow change the nature of a cruel and violent universe through his belief in compassion, mercy, hope, and second chances must be defined as an evil arising from delusion. People still die after all, and people are still unhappy.

Their interpretation requires the application of the Nirvana fallacy, something that happens quite often with minorities, where one or two failings are seen to negate the entire premise. To be valid for them, Scott's way must flawlessly lead to perfect and complete victory, otherwise it is nothing but self-indulgence. (The show itself busted that fallacy in Season 5, which was sort of the point of the season.)

To these people, the walk-off in The Wolves of War was a comforting phantasm concealing an uncomfortable truth -- that Scott and his pack (except for the ones they liked) were White Knights, childishly and stubbornly clinging to a foolish belief system that perpetuated injustice in the face of the true nature of reality: the rule of claw and fang.

A short guide to the Plot Scheme I use as a Developmental Editor and the three theories about narrative structure this scheme is based on.

No it’s a narrative technique as shown to an almost comical degree with the red shirts in Star Trek.

All characters are in a story to further the story. The main characters are more important and in many cases, their development is PART of the story. Supporting characters are also a part of the story and important to the story. We get emotionally attached to these characters and they are used to tell a story.

But when you are telling an action or a drama story, sometimes you need to raise the stakes and make the situations dangerous. Now you could put your main characters in danger but for a long time, that wasn’t a real threat, because we knew they weren’t going to die, because the story is about them. They don’t get killed.

Or you can invent a character, give them a couple of lines, put them in danger and kill them off. Now the stakes are raised for the main character and it is “exciting.” They did this on StarTrek and they were always in red shirts. They were pawns, easily disposed of. 

Today, storytelling doesn’t get away with using minor characters as narrative tools like that, because we don’t buy the tension anymore. We don’t care. So Joe Blow the redshirt dies. SO? 

In order to make the audience CARE about the characters in danger, they have to give them stories, make us attached to them, make them noble, make us like them, make us see the possibility for the character… and THEN kill them off. Now all of a sudden we care and the narrative tension is more authentic and it is more exciting. 

We’ve seen The 100 do this with characters like Atom, Tor Lemkin, or Gina. They make us care about them and want them to survive, but then they kill them to further the story. Rather than being a crime against story, it’s actually a legitimate narrative technique. They want the deaths to mean something and not be something easily brushed off.