We’ve all got people in our lives that we look up to: parents, professors, adults who’ve invested in our lives since we were younger. These people – these mentors – invest so deeply in us that it’s hard to separate their advice and our daily actions. We look up to them and rely on them and trust that the advice they give is good.
Who are these people? They’re
mentors. They’re all over our lives, and everyone seems to have at least
one. Therefore, it would make sense to expect to see them in stories, right?
Of course, we’re all familiar with the idea of a mentor. If
we’ve read a book or seen a movie, we’ve seen a mentor character. Classic
examples include Obi-wan Kenobi from Star
Wars, Gandalf from Lord of the Rings,
and Dumbledore from Harry Potter.
There are others, but these three give us good material to work off of.
In short, the mentor is a vital part to your story. Without
them, you lose a bit of realism that your story desperately needs. I’d like to
spend the next three Fridays talking about these powerful characters, and how
to do them right and how to do them wrong.
The Vital Aspect
While all mentors should be different from each other
(although in practice it seems they’re all very similar), there’s one aspect
that they should all have: something to
offer the protagonist. Look at the three I mentioned above: Obi-wan teaches
Luke the beginnings of the force, Gandalf protects and guides and defends
Frodo, while teaching him valuable lessons of mercy and trust, and Dumbledore
basically shows Harry how to be the Boy Who Lived.
Mentors don’t have to
be old men with white beards. The three I just gave you are the reasons why
that prototype is a cliché now. They did it first, so we have to come up with
our own ideas or suffer the mocking comparison. Mentors do, however, need a
purpose. If they have nothing to offer their protagonist, they’re actually an
Ally, for whom you can see my posts last September.
What is this that the mentor has to offer? Well, that
depends on your story. Generally speaking, it’s some sort of advice, skill, or
example. For Luke, he needed to know about the force (a skill). For Frodo, it
was protection and knowledge (advice). And for Harry, it was all three.
What about your character? What does your protagonist need?
For my characters in Agram Awakens,
there are a variety of things they needed. For Bea, it was comfort, healing,
and advice (provided by an elderly priest and his wife). For Deyu, it was a
friend (provided by someone I can’t name because spoilers). Taynan needed skills
and protection (provided by a villain, actually…), Gaream needed sage words of
advice and calming (provided by his father), and Deng-el needed motivating
words of encouragement (provided by his wife).
Notice how different these characters are. Many of them
aren’t old men (Gaream’s father and the priest aside). In fact, many of them
aren’t that much older than the protagonist (for instance, Deng-el’s wife is
younger than he is). I’ve read a book (and can’t for the life of me remember
the title) where the mentor was a young girl and the main character was a
middle-aged man.
So what’s makes the mentor different from the ally? After
all, an ally should have something to offer the protagonist as well, shouldn’t
they? Well, yes. The difference is this: the
protagonist cannot survive without the gift of the mentor. They can survive without the ally. It would
be much more difficult and they’d have to work much harder, but they could do
it in a pinch. The ally has their own story, after all, and their own goals.
They just happen to be able to help the protagonist as well.
When a mentor enters
the story, they become inextricable. Without them, your protagonist fails.
Creating a Worthwhile Wisdom
So. Our mentors need to be wise in some way. They have to be
able to pass on this wisdom to the protagonist.
Cool.
Now what?
How do we decide what this wisdom is? We look to our protagonist, and we look to our mentor. What does
the protagonist need? What is the mentor good at? Where those two things
collide, that is where you find your wisdom.
However, you should
never look just at the protagonist’s needs. When you do that, you end up
with a flat mentor. Why? Because they become nothing more than a plot point.
All characters should exist of their own right. The best way to ensure this is
to develop your mentor separately from your protagonist. Never develop them
with the protagonist in mind. Don’t make them a master at the sword just
because your main character needs to be good at it. Make them a master at the
sword because they spent thirty years in the army and have since been training
new recruits. Make it an integral part of who they are before you make it what
they pass on.
A Side-Note
This is something I wanted to address briefly before I
finish this post. There’s this common trend in books for the protagonist to
meet the mentor and/or the ally and/or the love interest during the book. Personally, I find this weak and distracting.
Why?
Because it takes time
to form a mentor-mentee relationship. It takes months and months and years
to form that kind of relationship. Not ten days riding horses together.
When a protagonist meets the mentor for the first time in
the second chapter, then suddenly grows to trust and accept them as a mentor in
t-minus 0.00002 seconds… it immediately stops feeling real to me. It’s not
really a mentorship, it’s a thrown-headfirst-into-trust relationship, and those
are rarely healthy in reality.
Anyway. That’s just a personal side-note that I thought
might be helpful before I wrapped this thing up.
Mentors are powerful characters. They can sway the story one
way or another. Without them, the protagonist fails. They fail miserably. But
with them… with the help of the mentor, the protagonist and the story can fly.
No comments:
Post a Comment