The Woman in the Story

by Helen Jacey

  The Crossroads phase reflects the time when your heroine is presented with several choices, each of which will take her life in a completely different direction.

  The Eruption phase reflects your heroine’s need to explode as a reaction to repression.

  The Path to Potential phase symbolizes your heroine making a choice of direction for her life.

  Violation

  At some early point in a woman’s life she comes to terms with the fact that she might not be able to defend herself from assault, violence, rape, or abuse. Men might fear attack, but women fear sexual attack The ratio of men being attacked by dildo-wielding rapist women compared to men raping women is exceedingly rare. I have seen a comic spoof of this in Weeds. A dramatic version of female rape is in Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, but this is a retaliatory rape. What women actually do to violate men sexually is to castrate, and that’s still an exceedingly rare crime compared to rape. It tends to be a retaliatory impulse when a woman has had enough of philandering.

  The trouble with a fear of violation is that it teaches women to fear their own sexual power and desire. Women then associate sexuality with vulnerability. Maybe it is this sense of vulnerability in women that makes them all the more sensitive to betrayal. “Hell hath no fury” is probably one of Shakespeare’s most overused quotations. I’m not suggesting men don’t feel betrayal acutely, but maybe they feel it differently. If a man is sexually betrayed by his partner he might have some condolence in remembering that women’s philandering has been punishable by men for several thousand years. Today he can brand his partner a slut and still have a better chance of keeping his kids in the divorce courts. In the Middle East a woman can still be stoned to death. A woman who is raped can sometimes be accused of bringing it on herself. Double standards sadly persist.

  The message we all grow up with is that women not only have to control their own sexual behavior, but also they’re responsible for a man’s libidinous self-control. Violation as a phase symbolizes this threat, whether it’s real or actual. Betrayal is one of its most obvious forms. A man cheats or lets the heroine down in some way. Whatever the cause, she feels wounded to the core of her being. There are heroines who have such pride that they don’t admit to being wounded, but these are rare. If she is in denial, it usually becomes part of her journey to finally admit these feelings.

  Violation can also take the form of abuse by parent figures, whether it’s emotional or physical. In Precious, Precious experiences years of abuse from both her parents. However, she is not completely passive in life, defending her white and male teacher by beating up a male student in class.

  But there’s a flipside to the coin — where the Violation phase is perpetuated by the woman. Women can and do beat up their husbands. Women commit infanticide or self-mutilate. Killing one’s children, the Medea complex, can be motivated by an extremely irrational need to punish the children’s father. Teen girls can join violent gangs. Female anger and rage, and their violation of other people, is not as acceptable in stories as women being on the receiving end. With Precious having a violent fight with her mother, and the two heroines of Frozen River at each other’s throats, I believe that a shift in the lack of representation of women’s anger and violence is finally taking place in movies. On TV, the officers in CSI: Crime Scene Investigation are used to the murderous impulses of many a female violator. Tarantino’s heroines are very violent, as are the girls of St. Trinian’s, but these are unrealistic and glorified.

  Crossroads

  Every time we make a choice, evaluating our different options, we are at a kind of Crossroads in our lives. If I do this, this might happen. But if I do that instead, they maybe I will or won’t get this. Crossroads are ego-driven dilemmas that reflect heroines’ decision-making processes. They are very subjective, and tend to reveal your heroine’s value system and her sense of identity. Decisions made by characters under pressure are a staple of drama, but Crossroads can be very different for women, and so for your female character. Major life choices include how and when to have children (knowing that it isn’t a lifetime option); whether to have an abortion or not; what man to marry; staying single; what profession; staying at home with the kids or putting career first; giving up your whole life for the person you love. Minor choices can be as simple as: Should I drive or walk? If I eat that cake, will I regret it later? The black dress or the red?

  As a story progresses, the Crossroads phases, of which there will be many, reflect the growth in your heroine. As she gets to know herself better, what would have once been a difficult dilemma is now no longer relevant to her. This is true to life. As we age and get to know ourselves, we tend to make better choices that suit our true identity. But we can also get risk averse, or frightened of change. A heroine who makes choices to challenge herself shows an adventurous spirit.

  New Directions

  Crossroads can lead to Path to Potential and Transitions. By making certain choices the heroine can enter completely new worlds. Maria in Maria Full of Grace has the choice of unemployment, caring for a family that takes her for granted, another exploitative job in her community, or becoming a drug mule. Once she becomes a drug mule, she is eventually led to a Path to Potential of a new life on her own in the U.S.

  Devastating Crossroads

  In Sophie’s Choice, Sophie has to make the unbearable decision about which child to let die at the hands of Nazis. Of course, there is no answer to this horrifying dilemma, but under unbearable pressure she impulsively pushes her son toward the soldier. It is an unforgettable and harrowing Crossroads moment in movie history. Sophie will never get over this decision, and it will eventually lead to her suicide.

  Eruption

  The Eruption phase is a potentially cathartic phase in your story when everything bursts out into the open. It symbolizes the energetic and needed emotional, physical, verbal, or social outburst that leads to change. Usually a tipping point has been reached by your heroine before this phase occurs. Eruption is a two-fold phase. First, the lid is blown off, and then the contents settle. The settling can be as short or as long as your story needs.

  Trying to please everyone all of the time can cause major pressure in a woman’s life. Multitasking has its downsides. This isn’t about women not being able to take pressure, it can be about women not being able to say no or in no position to say no so they can single-mindedly focus on one thing.

  Your heroine might endure an Eruption as a result of her own repression. What she thought was an adequate coping mechanism is faulty after all, and it cracks under the pressure. Eruption can be fueled by a growing sense of identity crisis. It can seem as if every path is blocked, and all your heroine can do is metaphorically scream out loud. Alternatively she can fight, walk away, or break down. Breakdowns usually lead to breakthroughs, in our own behavior and in the behavior of others around us.

  However, Eruption is only as healing as your heroine or other characters want to make it. Some wounds are opened, only to heal over, thus keeping the poison inside. Sometimes a huge mess is left, but your heroine might move on and let others pick up the pieces. It’s a bit like throwing your cards on the table. The truth is out for all to see, and there’s no going back to the same game.

  Frequently the most powerful eruption in a story corresponds to the climax in act 3 of a linear screenplay. However, there can be many climaxes in many heroines’ stories, particularly complex-linear screenplays.

  Eruption as a Cry for Help

  In Rachel Getting Married, the heroine Kym cannot take her self-hate anymore. Her Eruption takes the form of a fight with her mother (blowing the lid) and then driving her car into a tree (the dust settling). Although she could have killed herself, her real need is to make people understand the depth of her misery for being responsible for her little brother’s death.

  Maternal Meltdown

  The opposite situation from a cry for help is when a heroine erupts as a need to escape, literally or metaphorically. She feels she h
as nothing to lose. In East Is East, the mother and wife of the family finally snaps and stands up to her bully of a husband. She is at a point where it is impossible to keep living by his rules.

  Momentary Madness

  This is where the Eruption phase appears instantly and shoots out of nowhere. Your heroine might suffer a momentary lack of impulse control, which can set a spiral of events in motion. She might shoot someone and surprise herself in the process. When Thelma and Louise look at each other as their car approaches the cliff top, they share a final and impulsive moment of Eruption.

  A Very Long Eruption

  Because of their two-stage nature, Eruptions can be very drawn out. The dust settling might take over her story. In Villa Amalia, Ann drives to a car park and screams a primal scream after realizing her partner has been having an affair. The majority of the film is all concerned with the dust settling as she detaches, slowly but surely, from every part of her life in one long Eruption.

  Eruption and Violation

  A fight between two characters can seem like a Violation phase but normally the Violation is the tipping point that leads to a heroine erupting. In Precious, Precious returns from the hospital with her newborn baby only to realize the danger her mother presents if Precious continues to let her mother victimize her. Precious’s tipping point is realizing that her mother will take her son from her and ruin the first good thing in her life that she has done for herself. This is Precious’ Eruption, and it leads to her mother’s violent assault. The dust settling takes the form of Precious fighting back and finally feeing.

  Path to Potential

  Path to Potential can be like the connective tissue of your heroines’ journey, linking the phases of Identity and Relating to each other. They are the times when she takes steps and strives for something with a sense of purposefulness with the belief that she is doing the right thing, at that given moment. It’s about positive energy and direction in the story.

  The whole point is that the character feels in control, unlike Transition, which has more unconsciously propelling forces behind it and involves loss of identity. By taking the Path to Potential, your heroine feels like she is making this happen. Your heroine has a game plan, and she’s pursuing it.

  Your heroine might choose the wrong Path to Potential and end up facing labyrinths, dead-ends, and crossroads. It’s a guaranteed certainty she will, if she is really out of touch with what she needs. In this respect, a Path to Potential will only be as helpful to a heroine as her levels of self-knowledge and insight will allow. For example, in An Education, Jenny takes the Path to Potential when she walks out of school thinking her engagement to a rich man will bring her far more than an Oxford education ever will. If she has unresolved issues, the Path to Potential can lead to disaster. Think of women with low self-esteem who go from man to man always in the hope that the next one is Mr. Right, only to be repeating the same relationship mistakes. The only right path for this kind of woman is to spend some time walking alone to get to know herself better.

  Final Paths

  Many heroines’ stories end with the heroine taking a final Path to Potential. She isn’t returning anywhere familiar, she is moving on. In Frozen River, the heroine Ray ends her journey by going to prison, while Lila finally reclaims her stolen child and moves into Ray’s brand new mobile home to take care of her friend’s kids while she’s in prison. Many heroines keep moving on at the end of the story. They have found a new sense of identity but have yet to find a place they can belong. Sometimes a heroine has unfinished business with herself. She’s got to keep moving to find a place where she can belong. Katherine Ann in Mona Lisa Smile is this kind of heroine, a true nomad who likes a life full of Paths to Potential.

  Many heroines never go home at the end of their story. Your heroine might still not have found the place where she belongs, or she is still unsure about what she really wants from life. She might have resolution on some levels, but not all, and she has to keep moving. Pippa Lee in The Secret Lives of Pippa Lee is one heroine who knows only what she doesn’t want to be anymore.

  Tips for Writing Momentum Phases

  Image Systems

  In your scenes, generate imagery that symbolizes the loss of the old or the birth of the new. Or even both. For example, if your character is on her way to a new job that will require her to abandon all her values, you can foreshadow the imminent culture clash even before your heroine has arrived. The opening sequence of The Devil Wears Prada is a good example of using imagery that suggests change is afoot as we see a montage of morning rituals of very different women getting ready for work. You want to choose images that deepen your scene symbolically. This will help your audience get a sense of your character’s state of mind during the change.

  Emotional Changes

  Change is not a static process. Your heroine will experience fluctuating changes through scenes with Momentum phases. What is she feeling, remembering, regretting, or excited about? Write them!

  Clothes

  What is your heroine wearing? Clothes can really say a great deal about the inner emotional state of your heroine. What statement are your heroine’s clothes making about the momentum? This isn’t about stealing the costume designer’s thunder; it’s about making sure that the scene is rich with meaning on a psychological level.

  Possessions

  What does your heroine take with her? What objects does she bring that make her feel secure in herself? Do these possessions represent a new self or are they comforting baggage from the past? Are any of these possessions instrumental in the change? Does she need them to pull it off?

  The Momentum Phase in Close-Up

  The Hours

  Laura (Julianne Moore) has decided to take her own life, so unbearable is her existence to her. On the way to the babysitter, Laura pulls away, driving past a removal lorry, as another family is moving into the suburban neighborhood. Laura’s son knows something is wrong, perceptive to his mother’s mood. He screams as she walks away from the childminder’s house, and Laura is distressed. She drives manically, and suddenly swerves dangerously, pulling into a hotel complex. Meanwhile, the son is building a house with his toys, only to destroy it. A sense of calm and purpose spreads over Laura’s face as she approaches the hotel. She asks for a room where she won’t be disturbed. Once alone, she lies on the bed and gets various bottles of pills and a book, Mrs. Dalloway by Virginia Woolf, out of her purse. As Laura touches her bare pregnant stomach, pond water full of leaves suddenly surges into the room, covering Laura, a visually metaphoric surge.

  This sequence mainly reflects the Eruption phase as Laura decides to take her own life. She can’t take her life anymore, but she isn’t the kind of character who screams, shouts, and throws things. The image systems (new neighbors moving in, the child’s broken toys) clearly show the destruction of the home, which foreshadow what will happen to Laura’s own family once she dies. As she drives she is taking a Path to Potential — escape by death. The possessions (tablets, the novel) are essential in order to bring about the desired change, death. Her loosening of her clothes and baring herself deepens the sense of change. In terms of role choices, Laura starts the sequence as a Mother and a Victim, and soon is a Questing Heroine with a very clear sense of purpose as she approaches the hotel. Later, the experience of Eruption forces her to adjust back to accepting her Maternal Lessons, by sticking to the role choice of Mother as she decides she cannot take her own life. We find out by the end of the film that Eruption made her modify her quest; instead of taking her life, she abandoned her children. This Eruption phase ends up with Laura clearing out some poison of her psychological wound, but it is still festering.

  EXERCISE: PHASES IN A COMPLEX-LINEAR FILM

  Looking at the phases in a nonlinear film will help you see that they can really help you develop your heroine’s emerging identity in the story, at the same time as you develop your theme. Complex linear stories are all about theme. By showing different timescales, they invit
e you to think about themes that affect women’s lives more than be gripped to watching the pursuit of a goal, as many linear films show. La Vie en Rose is a great example of a complex linear film. It has three interweaving storylines: one with the child Edith, one with an adult Edith striving for and achieving success, and one with Edith nearing the end of her life.

  Your exercise now is to watch La Vie en Rose and see if you can identify which phases are going on in each of the three story lines. Get ready to press the pause, and have a pen and lots of paper on hand. While you are doing this, try to work out which role choices Edith the heroine relates to.

  Then work out which phases might shape your heroine’s sense of identity during the course of her story. Which appeal to you most, and why? Which are useful to develop your backstory?

  WOMEN IN TROUBLE

  Chapter 6

  Conflict is basically a clash between two opposed viewpoints. That clash can be physical, mental, verbal, emotional, relational, territorial, ideological, political, national and international, and even intergalactic. Conflict can be healthy, destructive, annihilating, preventable, unnecessary, or necessary.

  Whatever it is, Conflict is part of life. How you manage Conflict in your own life will depend on your personality, belief systems, and self-control. Even if you choose a peaceful path in life, Conflict can follow you. Your relationship might suddenly end; you might lose a loved one, your job, money, or health; you might be attacked physically, sexually, or verbally; your country might go to war. All these can and do present obstacles in our lives; it is part of being human. An attitude of acceptance, tolerance, and forgiveness might help you get through the Conflict, but the Conflict still has to be borne in some way.

  When it comes to storytelling, we’re often told that Conflict is the primary building block of all dramatic stories, whatever their genre. No Conflict makes a story boring. What’s at stake? What’s the threat? What does she have to lose? Who’s the bad guy? These are familiar and often very important questions in the writing process. If you’re writing a heroine’s story, Conflict can be treated very differently, for the simple reason women’s lives are very different from men’s. It’s up to you as the writer to work out how that difference is played out in your story. So when it comes to Conflict, I’m not taking on the perceived wisdom of Western dramatic theory — which works very well for certain kinds of stories, genres, and audiences — but I do want to give you a different way of thinking about Conflict for your heroine’s story.