Narrative Drive

I recently began a new journey in writing - I have joined and been accepted into an MFA Program at SNHU for creative writing! A recent assignment had me thinking really deeply about a concept that I thought I knew a lot about - narrative drive.

What is Narrative Drive?

Narrative drive is the force that provides momentum for the story.

Think of a car - when you throw yours into drive, the engine must be on, the energy travels from the engine to the wheels, the wheels begin turning, and then you're well on your way to wherever you want to go!

Now, if you can't tell, I'm not very well-versed in cars. BUT! The point still stands - drive is what makes the wheels turn.

In a narrative, drive is the force that consistently creates and carries forward momentum. The key words here are consistency and momentum. A narrative must get the ball rolling and keep it going until the end of the book. If there is no momentum, or the momentum is not consistent enough, the story sags. A sagging story is not interesting enough to continue. Perhaps some may stay with you. I have a friend who hates to DNF a book and always likes to give it a chance. But a lot will likely abandon your story the moment it sags. I am, admittedly, one of those.

I'm not saying that the story shouldn't ever slow down. Far be it for me to tell a driver to speed at 45 through a school zone. But even in a school zone, while traveling at 15 mph, there is still momentum that drives the story forward, and in these moments, we can find the respite we need to calm down for the next stretch of the 55 mph road sign coming up.

So drive isn't necessarily about determining the speed at which you travel as much as it is determining the momentum by which you will push your story forward.

It's also not our lens. POV may help to indicate drive, but it doesn't necessarily mean it will always be the first qualifier.

There are two types of narrative drive that everyone knows about.

Plot-Driven Narratives

Plot-driven narrative relies heavily on story - that is, the focus is world, setting, and events. You have characters, yes, but plot-driven narratives do not require that the characters' actions push the gear into full drive. The plot is an inevitable fate and the narrative its tool. Things happen to the characters rather than by them, and events tend to unfold naturally without direct influence from the characters. We may still receive internal thoughts from our characters, personal ideologies are laid bare, and motivations and goals remain within the character's prerogative to accomplish. But the focus is typically on external conflict and the events of which the characters must live, survive, and thrive in.

Lord of the Rings is a good example of a plot-driven narrative. Its primary focus lies in the world events and character reactions to those events, particularly through Frodo's arc.

The ring is discovered by the dark lord. The dark lord attempts to retrieve said ring from the hobbits, forcing Frodo and his friends on the run. Frodo himself is given the ring by his uncle, Bilbo, who no longer had the strength to do the right thing. Frodo bears the ring to Elrond's home, resisting the influence of the ring and dodging the attempts of the wraiths to take the ring back to their master. There, the council argue over who is best suited to carry it to Mordor to have it destroyed. Even then, our poor hobbit protagonist couldn't catch a break:

"At last with an effort he spoke, and wondered to hear his own words, as if some other will was using his small voice. 'I will take the Ring,' he said, 'though I do not know the way.'"

It's not clear if this is an act of the ring or an act of Frodo's own moral compass. I like to believe that he had, perhaps, some unconscious desire to help out the world. But part of me also realizes that Frodo reacts more than he volunteers, and the ring already had some influence over him by then, perhaps wanting to keep him near because it feels it can eventually worm its way into his head and be delivered to the dark lord, to whom it desires to be with.

Regardless, he takes the ring.

From there, his role is relegated to resisting both the external forces sent against him and Samwise and the internal whispers of the ring. Most things happen to Frodo rather than by Frodo.

It's important to point out that while Frodo sounds incredibly passive in this argument, he, in fact, has a lot of agency. Frodo chooses to leave the Shire, chooses to bear the ring, chooses to push forward, chooses to leave the fellowship when one proves untrustworthy, and chooses his companions upon whom he puts his trust. Each choice, however, is driven by the actions of either another in the story or the narrative events themselves rather than an emotional or self-important choice. Each outside influence affects each choice made. What generates momentum in Lord of the Rings is usually not the characters themselves but the overall force of the world itself coming to bear down on the heads of the characters.

Even the others don't escape it.

Aragorn must reclaim his birthright in order to prevent a devastating war.

Merry and Pippin are swept into two different wars, becoming little heroes, even though meeting them on the road out of the Shire was an accident.

Legolas and Gimli fight side by side out of duty to their country, but they certainly agree to the fellowship out of friendship to Aragorn and because their people were the ones who sent them.

Samwise is mostly reactive, trying to keep everyone - Frodo most of all - from accidentally killing themselves.

The King of Rohan is released from Wormtongue's grip only because Gandalf saw need of him.

I think perhaps the more character-oriented ones on the board were likely Boromir and Faramir. They had more emotional drive to many of their decisions, tying deeply into their sense of pride as the family who has stewarded Gondor and their desire to please their father.

But overall, the plot drives the narrative forward more than the characters themselves. We hang on to see the fate of the kingdoms, the Dark Lord, the Ring, and the Fellowship far more than we do to see whether Aragorn and his elf girlfriend finally marry, whether the princess of Rohan finds love outside of her infatuation with Aragorn, whether Samwise got the courage to ask out his crush, or whether Faramir got the recognition he deserved after his father died. Such things are nice little cherries on top - and there are probably some among you who totally read the story for Aragorn and Arwen - but they were never the driving force of the story. We did not read the stories for these things. Not as much as we read them for the fall of a certain dark lord, the destruction of a certain ring, and the fate of a certain ex-hobbit gremlin.

Character-Driven Narratives

Character-driven narratives utilize the humanity of their characters to provide momentum to the story. It relies on the personal motivations and goals of individuals rather than the world or the setting. A character acts or reacts to external events and how that choice affects the story moving forward. Internal conflict weighs heavier in this type of story than any external conflict, even if external conflict is what they are reacting to.

One of my favorite examples of a character-driven narrative is most certainly Pride and Prejudice. The focus on internal conflict and the characters’ personal motivations and goals drives the plot of this novel forward. Elizabeth resists the idea of marriage, likening it to a loss of control, and Darcy resists falling in love for much the same reason. Each makes decisions that inevitably lead them into more misunderstandings created by character choice. For example, Darcy’s thoughtless words at the beginning prime the path into hatred for Elizabeth, yet her stalwart objections and personal feelings lead her to judge him too harshly on many accounts. Each decision, each admission of mutual dislike and confessions of feelings towards the other brings them closer to each other until finally Elizabeth accepts that he has only ever been kind to her and her family and they are pushed into each other’s arms in the end because of what Darcy did to protect her sister’s - and adjacently her family’s - reputation in high society.

Of course, if you consider that the world around them does have its own prerogative, this may seem circumstance-driven. However, many of these circumstances occur because of other characters' choices, not necessarily a wider world.

Mrs. Bennet is desperate for social significance, so much so that she insists on presenting her daughters at every opportunity and often forgetting that her own daughters have a say in the matter. Each introduction to a new suitor pushes Elizabeth further and further away from the idea of marriage and complicating the circumstances between Elizabeth and Darcy. Mr. Bennet has enough of a passive personality that his lack of defense on behalf of his daughters often leaves them at the mercy of their mother.

Elizabeth’s sisters have their own desires and act upon their own whims. Jane’s sweet nature eventually attracts a kindly gentleman suitor in Mr. Bingley. Though there is some difficulty in her being from an “interesting” family like the Bennets, Mr. Bingley finds himself at a crossroads between what he knows is a good match and his familial expectations. In the end, their attraction to each other and strong moral alignment make the two of them strongly compatible and quietly confident in each other.

Mary and Kitty both act upon their personalities. Mary is solemn and finds pride in her intellect and poems but lacks interest in suitors, driving her parents to focus on her more “successful” sisters. Meanwhile, Kitty is young and somewhat careless, pursuing the idea of marriage with an immaturity that worries her parents and sisters. Their actions don’t necessarily change the course of events, but they do complicate them as they add more for Elizabeth to compare life and the pursuit of marriage to.

Lydia is the dynamite character. Her jealousy and reckless behavior nearly drive her family into social ruin by running away and marrying Wickham but for the intervention of Darcy. Her character’s actions prove to be both a terrible circumstance that Elizabeth must consider but also the turning point at which she recognizes Darcy’s good nature.

Each character is driven not by a wider circumstance of world-created issues but by the character’s own needs, desires, and motivations.

Balanced Approaches

Of course, the previous definitions only take into consideration the purest of definitions for plot- and character-driven narratives. No story will ever be purely plot- or character-driven. If drive equals momentum, then it’s impossible for the drive to always be singular in origin. The world will not always be the driving force of external conflict. Sometimes, selfish reasons in the hands of powerful people promote “world-wide” consequences. And sometimes, a character’s emotional choice will be thwarted by a natural unfolding of world events.

I personally find that an intentional blended approach can often enhance a story. This is where both worldbuilding and character development are equally required. I do not want to imply that there is always going to be a perfect 50/50 balance. One can ultimately take priority over the other depending on what the author wants the driving forces to be. It can also be 60/40, or 70/30 or even all three depending on what part of the narrative the writer finds themselves.

A perfect example of the blended approach would be Avatar: The Last Airbender. Aang’s story, not Korra’s. This is a series that used both plot- and character-driven elements depending on what the narrative needed in the moment. You have plot-driven events in the very beginning of the story, in fact. Katara and Sokka just happen to stumble across the iceberg with Aang and Appa? And Zuko’s proximity to the area was in hindsight suspiciously fortunate for him. The fire nation’s actions before the story even began also shaped the narrative before the characters even had a chance to react, and the moments of Appa’s kidnapping driving the characters to find the depth of the corruption of the earth kingdom and Jet’s eventual death were also thrust upon them. 

But there were also characters’ internal motivations that served to drive the story forward. No one better personifies this than Zuko. 

Zuko had come close several times to catching Aang, but each choice and failure drove him further and further from his biological family and closer and closer to the realization of his family’s flaws. He could have simply accepted them, and nearly did for a time, but his self-reflection and honest conversations with the one person who truly loved him for him from the beginning - the best uncle in the world, Iroh - eventually brought him to the choice that would change the trajectory of the story forever. That one decision saved the rebellion as a whole and laid the foundation for Ozai’s eventual defeat.

Discovery-Driven Narratives

As we are on the subject of blending plot- and character-driven narratives, I would like to propose a third type of drive that I have been trying to understand for a while now.

Discovery-driven narrative, as I have come to define it, is a narrative that gains momentum through revelation, exploration, and increasing understanding of the world surrounding the characters. I had initially named it “world-driven” because the world does not necessarily act as a force within the plot so much as it exists as a monolith against which the narrative is measured.  However, this term proved less reliable because of the focus a discovery-driven narrative has on both the world and the character.

Discovery-driven narratives follow a general pattern of discovery. A world is presented to the character. This world has existed within its space long enough that it has established rules, regulations, and expectations. The character comes into this world without context. The world still has agency. It still acts upon the character as an entity attempting to interact with the character, and it will definitely clash with the character. However, it is not as much a force acting upon the characters as it is an immovable object that already exists in the space the character is trying to gain access to. 

There is a reason I named it a monolith in the beginning. A monolith, by definition, is a single, massive stone or large structure that stands as a pillar, often attributed to ancient structures for whom its purpose is uncertain. And yet we know it had purpose, it had structure, and it was important enough to last. It is a system that has always existed one way, and it may not necessarily be classified as antagonistic simply because it exists in this way or because it clashes with our sensibilities and understanding of what is right according to our own experiences with reality. It is the characters themselves - sometimes as an extension of ourselves, especially with western-based characters - that find themselves as temporary antagonists to a world that functions just fine without their input.

The character’s goal is tied directly to the discovery of the world, revealing its layers over time. They come into this world without context, without expectation, often (but not always) because the discovery of it is against one’s will or against one’s agency. The revelation uncovers the world’s uniqueness, beauty, ugliness, or a combination of the three usually as a reflection of our current existence in real society. It is reasonable to say at some point a discovery-driven narrative will need to tip into plot- or character-driven narrative because of this. Either the world changes because of the character, the character changes because of the world, or nothing changes and the truth lays bare all the realities that we are left to wonder about.

Lost Horizon certainly has its moments of plot and character development, but it has never seen stronger foundation than in the light of discovery-driven terms. Shangri-La is the kind of place that exists outside of present understanding, the monolith as it were that looms over the story and presents itself to Conway - and as a result, the reader - more openly than it has ever presented itself to others before. It doesn’t push, it doesn’t change, and it doesn’t apologize. The people within the community do tend to kidnap people, but that is not the drive of the story. The drive comes from Conway's slow discovery of culture, tradition, community, and in some ways himself.

Dinotopia also presents an “otherworld” that has always existed despite never being known by a larger world. While the systems in this place are kinder than Shangri-La, and they certainly don’t kidnap people despite what a certain Mr. Lee Crab has to say about the situation, it also does not apologize for its existence and does expect the newest washed-ashore residents to adapt or wither. Mind you, I don’t expect an entire civilization to bend to the whims of an individual because the individual happens to be having a bad time. It can’t afford to do that or everyone suffers. But where Arthur and Will Denison enter this new world, new things are being discovered and presented to the reader in both academic findings, personal journaling, and vivid illustrations.

Both stories find their momentum through discovery rather than world events causing character choice, or by character choice causing more trouble. Both tend to lead towards more character-driven towards the end. Conway literally becomes the thing Shangri-La needs to survive, but he’s not entirely upset about that fact even while he struggles with his new self and his old ideals. Arthur and Will Denison showcase how a character can learn to love a new place regardless of how badly the situation has played out for them and despite the “truth” being that no one can escape. No one condemns them for Arthur’s resistance or Will for his acceptance. But the change comes either from the character becoming something new, the world becoming something new, or truths being revealed that they - and we - must grapple with.

Conclusion

Mind you, this argument only works if you keep in mind that I define drive as momentum and not focus. While POV may be first person, the narrative drive may come from outside plot points, and while the focus may be on the fate of one kingdom, that doesn’t mean the drive doesn’t come from the emotional decisions of your characters. 

This does mean that I could be completely wrong. I invite you to circle the wagons and kick the thing quivering in the center if it’s earned it.

Works Referenced

J.R.R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings

Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

Michael Dante DiMartino and Bryan Konietzko, Avatar: The Last Airbender

James Hilton, Lost Horizon

James Gurney, Dinotopia: A Land Apart from Time