In the opening prologue of the outstanding HBO series THE LAST OF US, the hero Joel’s daughter Sarah dies in his arms. This is his wound, the painful event or situation from the past that will determine his actions for the rest of the story.
The pain of that loss is so great that years later Joel has become a dark, isolated, violent and self-involved loner with apparently only one positive relationship in his life. Then he is asked to transport Ellie, a girl not far from the age Sarah was when she died.
He wants nothing to do with this. Though he would never say it out loud, the idea of taking care of, let alone getting close to, this new girl is unthinkable, given the unbearable pain he still feels over failing to protect his daughter, and blaming himself for losing her.
Whether it’s a single traumatic experience, as it was for Joel, or an ongoing source of pain, like the beatings Will Hunting suffered from his father through his childhood and adolescence (
see #1 in this series),
when we are wounded in this way, we formulate a belief about what caused it, and we’ll do whatever it takes to avoid suffering that pain again.
Joel believes he didn’t protect his daughter as he should have, and that getting that close to anyone again is bound to lead to the pain he suffered before - a pain he knows he could never endure.
Will Hunting believes that he must have deserved the beatings his father gave him (since in childhood we all need to believe our parents are wise and will take care of us).
So he concludes that anyone he gets close to, who gets even a glimpse of the horrible person he is, will punish or abandon him. Thus telling Skylar that he loves her is as impossible for him as allowing himself to love Ellie like a daughter is for Joel.
Because here’s the tragic thing about the beliefs we adopt in response to our wounds:
They are never true.
But they are ALWAYS logical.
So we latch on to them as our best hope for avoiding the pain we think we have buried in the past.
The same is true in the story we created for Dan Henry’s webinar (
see the previous article in this series). He had once before tried to create an online course he was certain would be a huge moneymaker. And he was devastated when he ended up losing thousands of dollars and wasting months of his life.
So his (false but logical) belief became, “I’m hopeless at this. I’ll always lose money with online courses. I’m destined to fail.”
Only by acknowledging his fear, and, with his wife’s support, finding the courage to pursue his dream anyway, was he able to succeed.
So as you develop your stories, look for the wounds your heroes suffered in the past. Then give your heroes desires, needs and goals that will force them to confront those traumas and move past them. That is where their courage lies.
And that is where you’ll discover the Inner Journeys that will touch your audiences most deeply.
Sharing your own vulnerability the way Dan Henry did will impact and inspire your readers and audiences more powerfully than any other element of your stories.
As I’m writing this installment, I’m thinking of a coaching session I had only yesterday with a new client. We were having our Story Launch Package meeting, working on his origin story for the book he was writing.
As I always do, I was simply asking him questions. Again and again, I’ve seen the right questions draw the best story elements out of a screenwriter’s imagination, or a business leader’s own experiences.
This client was telling about the financial struggles he had prior to developing the process that led to his success, and how hard it was to tell his wife that they were almost broke.
“What did she say when you told her?” I asked.
At first he said he couldn’t remember. Clearly he didn’t want to relive this painful moment.
“Sure you do,” I said. “And if you don’t, what do you imagine she said?”
And quietly my client muttered, “She said, ‘Don’t worry. We’re going to get through this.’”
Now he had powerful, vivid dialogue for his story. But I knew he could go deeper. So I asked him how that made him feel.
“I wish I could say it made me happy. But it didn’t,” he admitted. “I mean, I really was deeply grateful for her love and support. But the thing was, it wasn’t about the money. Not really. I just felt like such a failure.”
“Then say that in your story,” I said.
He did. And as a result of us going deeper into his real fear, his origin story achieved a whole new level of emotional depth and inspiration.
One of the reasons I created my new
Story Launch Package for Business or
Story Launch Package for Film & Fiction is so you can be certain from the very beginning that you’re choosing the best possible story for achieving the success you desire, that you’ll maximize its emotional power, and that the wound, fear and Inner Journey you create for your hero will touch your readers and audiences at the deepest possible level.
Just as my client from yesterday will with his story.
It’s easy to see evidence of the power of the Inner Journey in all the great stories you see in movies, TV series, speeches and marketing presentations. The heroes’ wounds and fears will always add more conflict to the plot, and greater emotional impact on the audience.
In THE LAST OF US, Joel’s growing attachment to, and love for, Ellie creates a horrible dilemma: whether to leave her to avoid his fear of getting closer, or to stay with her and once again risk failing to protect her.
Either way, he loses.
This tug-of-war between two unbearable options is what’s known as a character’s inner conflict. And that will be the focus of my next contribution to this series, The Inner Journey #5: From Identity to Essence.
See you there.
- Michael