When one looks at what makes up good stories or movies, you would have to include vulnerability among the key components. With the exception of most of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s films (yes, I enjoy “The Ah-nold” too), good ones connect with us by reaching in and touching that part of us that intrinsically wishes to protect another, whether from physical harm, or emotional.
It’s easy to put a child up on screen or in a novel and have the audience almost immediately act on natural instinct (instinct most of us have, generally speaking) in a way that motivates us to engage the character, invest part of ourselves in him/her. For instance:
Molly wanted to cry. Something had bitten her. She pulled one hand away from her blanky, the thumb of her free hand firmly entrench in her mouth as tears welled up on her lower lids, and tried to scratch her shoulder.
Molly wanted to cry. Something had bitten her. She pulled one hand away from her blanky, the thumb of her free hand firmly entrench in her mouth as tears welled up on her lower lids, and tried to scratch her shoulder.
Something snapped in the trees near her.
Molly thrust both hands to her mouth as she let out a squeak of fear and froze. Tears came hot down her cheeks as she started to cry softly, her body tight and afraid.
“Mommy?”
She cried into her blanky and called out again. She was lost in the woods, but not alone.
So, hopefully, you felt a little something reading that light trip into my mind. Almost instinctive isn’t it? That wanting to protect that little girl.
Now I’m fully willing to accept that there are some of you out there who aren’t in touch with the softer side that wants to protect young children from harm. Some of you need a man carrying a large axe sneaking up on the wife who is oblivious and gardening, content that this is indeed the last weed she’s going to pull this day. Or even a good friend who stood next to you and was shot because he stepped into the line of fire ahead of you, and who now lays in your arms, his uniform darkening where the bullet ripped a hole in his chest.
And don’t get me started on animals. I’d have to say that most of us indeed have a soft, protection engaging, button somewhere.
Vulnerability. For us writers, it’s what’s for supper. Sit down with me, I’ve been slaving over a hot stove all day ; )
