So much about good storytelling mirrors the way a lawyer might lay out the case for their client. Our job as writers is to select events and characters that reveal the protagonist we hope the reader will see. In effect, we are manipulating scenes so that they present our protagonist’s inner development at any given point in the plot.
Let’s take a look at five ways you can approach
your novel like a winning trial lawyer,
delivering your reader to the verdict you want.
1. Give Your Opening Argument
- Within the “ordinary world” section of your story, make the case that your protagonist is both in need of change and capable of change.
- Convince the reader to empathize with the character by showing the way they have deep, internal needs.
- Make the opening interesting enough that your reader sticks around so you can prove your case.
- Craft scenes that show the protagonist interacting with other characters and being presented with experiences that show what they lack.
- Let us see a moment that signals redemption or hope for your character so we understand what a satisfactory ending will entail.
2. Bring in Witnesses
- One of the primary ways we reveal who are protagonist is along any given point in the plot is by having them interact with other characters.
- In the first quarter, consider interactions that show your character resisting change or refusing to acknowledge some sort of wound/lie/baggage holding them back.
- As you approach the first-quarter mark, bring in “witnesses” who challenge your protagonist to start facing that wound.
- Take advantage of secondary characters for the remainder of your novel to show your character changing and growing.
- Use these characters to draw your protagonist back to their old habits so that we can see them choosing to grow instead.
- Craft interactions with characters in the end that let the reader easily see the way the character has changed.
3. Put Your Protagonist on “The Stand” to Testify in Their Own Defense
- Think about how you might plot scenes that reveal the root of your character’s wounds.
- Resist the urge to make your protagonist out to be a victim of circumstances or to show them exuding self-pity.
- One of the biggest errors we can make is using narration or character dialogue to let the character bemoan their situation.
- Let us observe in active scene how the existing relationships and past experiences of your character have created the flawed protagonist we meet.
- The more you silence your narrator/character and keep them from signaling self-pity, the more the reader deduces how the character must feel, which frees them up to experience genuine empathy.
4. Let Your Protagonist Be Cross-Examined
- Consider crafting scenes that tempt your character back toward old habits. To slip up and reveal their flaws.
- It’s only in testing your protagonist by presenting them with opportunities they would have formerly been drawn to that you show your reader how they’re changing. How they aren’t who they were when we met them.
- As covered in my post on the zigzag character arc, don’t be afraid to let them make mistakes.
5. Prove the Protagonist’s Change Beyond a Reasonable Doubt
- So often, we arrive at our endings without sufficient evidence that our characters have changed.
- We’ve spent a lot of the story shielding them from obstacles.
- We allow other characters to protect them or we don’t directly hit important stakes that force the protagonist to take action.
- By the time they reach the story’s end, readers don’t have the proof they need to see the character’s agency and to make a confident judgement about their evolution. The proof is insufficient because the reader hasn’t been given evidence scene after scene that the character is, in fact, someone quite different than when they met them.
- As you evaluate your scenes, ensure that your character is being presented in each and every one of them with a choice to make.
- Think of making them choose, as often as possible, between two things they care about.
- The thing they pick should be painful to choose because the thing they give up must be nearly as valuable.
- If the choice the protagonist makes is easy or obvious—escape, fight, follow someone, hide, etc.—it’s a signal that the scene isn’t really presenting them with that hard choice they need.
- Notice how those choices don’t really cost the character anything. They’re expected.
- Let the reader see scenes with all the proof they need to reach the verdict that your character has truly changed as a result of their own actions.
How else might you approach writing your novel like a lawyer? Are there specific areas that you can foresee as spots where you might make a stronger case for your protagonist?
Chime in with your thoughts!
Marissa has been a freelance editor and reader for literary agent Sarah Davies at Greenhouse Literary Agency for over seven years. In conjunction with Angelella Editorial, she offers developmental editing, author coaching, and more. Marissa feels if she’s done her job well, a client should probably never need her help again because she’s given them a crash-course MFA via deep editorial support and/or coaching. Find out more about our RWC team here and connect with Marissa below.
I am a lawyer, and so is my main character. It’s kind of necessary that he have it together.
But I use these techniques for my secondary characters, who are usually central to the plot (before they get killed).
Thanks for the article.
Michael, so wonderful to have you chime in given your background! I’m sure you can see loads of connections between your profession and the way we present our stories. Thank you so much for popping by!
I love these daily reads! Thank you! You’ve taught me so much in my journey of writing my YA. I am worried about keeping them from signaling self-pity in my story. My MC has lost his girlfriend in a wreck. How does he not show self-pity and grief? He drove the car, so he has a lot of guilt.
Dedra, it’s really a tough thing to hit just right, isn’t it? Is your story in first-person? That’s oftentimes a bit of a gateway to self-pity, or at least, I find it makes it easier for clients (and me) to veer toward it. Another red flag is interiority where a character is envying what another character has, placing blame on someone else, or remarking that they should have made another choice, or somewhat bemoaning their situation. Think: victim mentality, even if they’re a victim of their own choices. If you haven’t already, you might check out Angela and Becca’s book THE EMOTIONAL WOUND THESAURUS. One of the entries is “Accidentally killing someone,” and you could even explore “Bearing the responsibility for many deaths,” “Failing to save someone’s life,” “Making a very public mistake,” and “Poor judgement leading to unintended consequences.” Honestly, there are probably other entries in this book that could help. What I love about this resource is it helps you consider how guilt and shame and emotions tied to things like your character’s situation play out on the page through what they *do* and say. You can use the ideas from each entry to spark believable behaviors that signal the emotions that would naturally rise from his backstory, and the reader will pick up on the root of the behaviors. I recommend this book to every single client I work with. It’s useful for protagonists and secondary characters, and it’s useful for every single story we craft. Best of luck!
I love your brain, Marissa! This is such a great way to think about how to pressure our characters to step up and change, and to walk the walk! So awesome. I would have never thought of comparing these two, but I am so glad you did!
Angela, I’ve been trying to exude maybe even 5% of your brain power for over a decade now, lol! You guys are brilliant! Yes, such a keyword: pressure. It’s often the case that many client manuscripts aren’t applying pressure. We always hear the old “throw rocks at your character” advice, but it’s really more fitting to think of it in terms of pressure. You want to make them so uncomfortable that they’re forced to move and find new pathways. Love that word! Sincere thanks for giving me the opportunity to stop by today!
I love your unique perspective on things, Marissa! I never would’ve thought to approach a novel this way :).
Becca, ha! You guys–thanks to your amazing resources!–have made me really open up my mind in terms of occupations and the way they pertain to story. There’s a great TED TALK by Andrew Stanton called “Clues to a Great Story,” and I think he hits the nail on the head. He doesn’t use the lawyer analogy, but the takeaways are quite similar. We have to make the reader (our jury) think they’re drawing their own conclusions, but we ensure we get them to reach the outcome we want based on how we slyly make our case. As always, it’s such a joy to be on your blog! Thank you!
Thanks for this awesome post, Marissa. I never thought of how similar writing and being a trial lawyer can be.
I especially love testing our characters so they can prove that they’ve changed. And great warning not to let them sink into self-pity. I did that in one of my early MGs and saw how unlikeable it made my character. Taking those parts out and showing her inner strength growing throughout the story made a huge difference.
Mindy, self-pity is so hard to avoid, isn’t it? I find that when I’m writing, I fight the urge to make sure my reader sees my character’s situation as one that deserves empathy. When we cross the line and insert ourselves too much into the story as the storyteller, that’s always when the pity starts to show. Self-pity is one of those things I have to ask for a critique partner to spot because it’s difficult to pin down when I veer toward it. I love that when you honed in on instances of it yourself, you saw the improvements! Thanks for having me on today!