Tale Weaver
Since I was unable to get the blog pages to work, I'm going to try sliding sections instead. Click on Read more to see the full Chapter.
If you want to provide feedback, please email me at: writer.ladyliandre@gmail.com
Please remember this is just a rough draft - a work in progress. Don't share outside the group.
Chapter 1
Navin grimaced and ripped the page from the typewriter, wadded it up, and threw it into the growing heap in the corner of his tiny apartment. He leaned back, the chair squealing in protest, and rubbed his face. An impossible task! How was he supposed to write something original? Every attempt sounded like a story that had already been written. A rustling distracted him. He glanced back at his pile of crumpled mistakes. Was it moving? A small head appeared at the top of the mound. Navin groaned. “Oh great. I’m attracting rodents.” The mouse pushed several wads aside. “Quite a mess you’ve created.” Navin stared at the creature. “I’ve been sitting here too long. Now I’m hallucinating about talking mice.” The animal huffed. “I beg your pardon. I am more than capable of conversing. And there is only one of me.” It slid down the mountain of paper, sending an avalanche in all directions, then climbed up the leg of the table. “I’ve been watching you struggle and thought you might need some help.” Navin crossed his arms. “Maybe a psychiatrist?” The mouse hummed. “Sorry, I’m not in that profession. I was actually referring to your attempts at writing.” Navin laughed. “What does a mouse know about writing?” It jumped up onto the typewriter and tapped out a rhythm on the keys. “I am no ordinary mouse who has come into your house. I will make you a believer for I am a tale weaver.” Navin frowned. “Is that a bad pun? You do have a long tail.” The mouse sighed. “Not a pun, a homophone. A tale weaver creates stories.” “Ah, right. And what exactly are you offering, to sit on my shoulder and whisper into my ear?” The mouse held out a small package. “These.” Navin blinked. Had the mouse just pulled it out of his fur? This sure was a crazy hallucination! He shrugged. “Okay. I’ll bite. What is it?” The mouse twitched his nose. “No biting. These are magic seeds.” Navin laughed so hard he almost fell off the metal folding chair. “I know that story - beanstalks and giants.” The mouse shook its head. “Not beans. These are story seeds. With careful nurturing, they will grow into a story.” Navin wiped his eyes. “Now I’ve heard everything. Seeds that grow into a story! I don’t suppose you have a magical pot to go with them?” The mouse scurried around behind the typewriter and pushed out a red terracotta flower pot. “I thought you’d never ask.” Navin leaned forward and looked behind his typewriter. Where had that come from? He was certain nothing like that had been there before. He tapped on the pot. It was solid. He dropped back into his chair and struggled to breathe. “Dare I ask where that came from?” The mouse smiled. “Tale weavers are good with magic. We create whole worlds from nothing but our own thoughts.” Navin wished it was that easy. “So, now what?” The mouse held out the packet. “This will be your story so you should do the honors.” He took the package and peered inside at four small seeds. “Why not.” He dropped them into the pot. Nothing happened. “Aren’t they supposed to grow?” The mouse tsked. “Stories take time to evolve. Magic seeds are no different. Maybe you should take a walk and get some air.” Navin pushed out of his chair. “Good idea. Maybe when I return, I’ll be back to reality.” The mouse pointed at the scattered crumpled paper wads. “Perhaps you could take out the trash on your way.” Navin glared at the mouse. “You’re magical. Can’t you just make it all disappear?” The mouse stood up on its hind legs and put its paws on its hips. “I can’t whisk away your past mistakes. I can only help you improve so you make fewer one in the future.” “Fine.” Navin grabbed a dustbin and broom and began sweeping up the pile. “So, do I call you mouse or do you have a name?” “Of course I have a name. I’m Webster.” Navin stopped mid-sweep and stared at the creature. “As in a dictionary?” Webster hummed. “Well, I am a mouse of many words.”
Chapter 2
Navin leaned against the door of his apartment and sucked in air. Eight flights of stairs! But at least he had a place to live. For now. He took a final deep breath and opened his door. The mouse sat on the table, tending a strange looking plant. He sighed and went in. So much for reality. Webster turned to him. “Ah, so you've returned. Did the walk help?” Navin ignored the mouse and stared at the empty spot on his table. “Where is my typewriter?” Webster wiggled a claw at him. “You don’t need it.” Navin clenched his fists. “How am I supposed to write a story without my typewriter?” The mouse moved to a stack of paper and a pen. “Good writers begin with simple tools. These are a better place to start.” Navin collapsed into the metal folding chair and covered his face. “I can’t turn in a handwritten story. My handwriting is terrible. Besides, the contest rules state that the entry needs to be typed or printed by a machine. I can’t afford anything better than my old typewriter.” Webster tsked. “You can’t write a story until you have one.” Navin dropped his hands. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The mouse returned to the flowerpot. “Please observe the plants now growing here. One has a bud. Examine it carefully.” Navin studied the mass of short broad leaves. A stalk with a pod at the end stood slightly taller than the foliage. “Reminds me of Audrey Two. Will it eat me?” The mouse chuckled. “Fortunately this is not the Little Shop of Horrors. Look closely at the bud.” Navin turned the pot around so he could see the oblong puffy pod better. It had four sides. “Well, that’s different. There are words on each side. Goal, obstacle, limit, and stakes. What does that have to do with writing a story?” Webster pointed at the bud. “Everything. Those are the most important elements of any story.” Navin leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms. “How so?” Webster put his paws on his hips. “Consider your own challenge. Your goal is to write an original story and your obstacle is that you believe everything you write seems to be like one you already know.” Navin considered that. “Okay. What about the other two?” The mouse hummed. “Tell me. Why do you want to write this story?” Navin sighed. “It’s for a contest. The top ten stories win five hundred dollars and get published. I really need the money and I want to prove to my family that I can be a writer.” Webster huffed. “After pushing through your pile, I’d say you’re already a writer. It seems your ultimate goal is to become a published author. So, how soon do you need to turn in your story?” Navin pulled the worn paper from his pocket and unfolded it. “I have less than a month left.” The mouse pointed at the page. “Then time is your limit. And you’ve already hinted at the stakes. You need money. What would happen if you don’t win?” Navin dropped the paper on the table. “I’m barely surviving. The rent takes most of what I earn from working in the diner. My cupboard is pretty bare.” Webster snorted. “Indeed! Barely enough in there to keep a mouse fed! We’d better get started.” Navin stared at the spot on the table where his typewriter had been. “How?” Webster picked up the pen and held it out to him. “Where all creations start. With ideas. Now that you can see how the elements relate to your own life, how might you apply that to an imaginary one?” Navin frowned. “I’m not sure where to start.” Webster pushed the pen into his hand. “With a goal.” Navin started at the pen, wondering where it had come from. “What kind of goal?” The mouse grinned. “Ah! It seems you need a Hierarchy of needs!”
Chapter 3
Navin rose from his seat. “Your high arches will have to wait a few minutes. I’m starved. I need to get something to eat.” Webster nodded. “A good Level 1 need.” Navin paused his reach for the cupboard handle and turned back to the mouse. “Say again?” “Hunger is a Level 1 need. Level 1 needs are those dealing with personal survival. Like air, water, food, shelter, safety, and health.” Navin sighed and pulled a couple things from the cupboard. “Well, I guess that makes sense.” Webster hopped up on the counter and watched as Navin spread the peanut butter on his crackers. “Why do you have so little food in your cupboard?” Navin put the box and jar away. “I work at my parents’ diner and my father doesn't pay me as much as the other waiters because I’m family. I never have much left over after paying rent. That’s why I want to be an author.” Webster shook his head. “A level 2 and a level 3 all wrapped up together.” Navin carried his plate back to the table. “What are you talking about?” The mouse returned to his spot beside the flowerpot. “Level 2 needs are relationship survival needs. They deal with struggles between family and close friends. Level 3 needs are social survival needs. Those deal with finding a place in the world where you fit. But I should caution you. Very few authors make enough money to quit their day jobs.” Navin nibbled on a cracker. “That’s why winning this contest is so important. It might open doors for me.” Webster chuckled. “A Level 4 need! Those are all about competitive survival and proving that your really good at something.” Navin rolled his eyes. “How many of these levels are there?” “One more. Level 5 are the Survival Guides.” Navin swallow a bite. “What’s that?” The mouse began to pace across the table. “A survival guide is someone with exceptional skills and abilities that wants to help others. For example, police officers, firefighters, medical professionals, super heros, and teachers, like me.” Navin leaned back and the metal chair squeaked. “What’s your special skill?” “As I told you before, I am a Tale Weaver. And my goal is to help you write that story. So, consider this. Needs influence goals, which influence obstacles, limits, and stakes. What need might your story character have?” Navin closed hs eyes, remembering all the homeless people he saw on his walk. He might be one of them soon if he couldn’t pay his bills. “If the character was homeless, he’d need shelter.” Webster hummed. “To say nothing of water, food, and safety. So, what might his goal be?” “Obviously to find a place to live.” The mouse raised an eyebrow. “Thinking ahead? But it’s a good place to start. And what kind of obstacles might this character face?” “Well, It’s hard to find a place unless you have money and you need a job for that. Those I’ve seen on the street don’t look very likely to be employed.” Webster pointed at the pen and stack of paper. “Start a list. Also add in people who might make it difficult for your character to succeed. It’s always good to put a face on your main obstacle.” Navin picked up the pen and began to write.
Chapter 4
Webster whistled. Navin looked up from his list. “What now?” The mouse pointed at the flowerpot. “Looks like the second bud has appeared. Take a look.” Navin put down his pen and pulled the pot closer. “Another four sided pod with more words.” Webster agreed. “I think this might help you with your lists. Check out the words.” Navin pushed aside the leaves. “Characteristics, Atributes, Misconceptions, and Skills. What’s this about?” “Characters. Every story needs them and characters need characteristics, atributes, misconceptions, and skills - at least the important characters in your story do.” Navin leaned back and crossed his arms. “Why would they need all that?” “Because those qualities create an illusion of reality that makes the characters feel more like real people.” “Okay. I get the characteristics. I suppose that’s what they look like, how old they are, stuff like that.” Webster sighed. “That’s what most people assume a character is. But the other elements are what makes the characters come alive for readers.” Navin rubbed his face. “I can see how skills might be important but what are the other two?” The mouse swished his tail. “Attributes define how they think, act, and speak. Some might be talkative and outgoing while others are reserved and private. There’s a whole list that psychologists use to define personality. -Fast paced and active or slow paced and contemplative; -Thinking out loud with or without others or thinking in their head; -They want to be the center of attention or prefer to stay in the background; -They focus on reality or imagine multiple possibilities; -They focus on facts and details or see the big picture and connections; -They are logical reasoning or rely on personal belief; -They believe in justice and fairness or harmony and forgiveness; -They are specific and literal or figurative and poetic; -They stand up for their ideas or try to please others; -They are reasonable and level headed or off in the clouds, flirting with fantasy; -They are cold and calculated or warm and empathetic; -They prefer concrete decisions or are open to options; They prefer deadlines and rules or remain flexible; -They prefer detailed instructions or can improvise as they go; -They plan ahead or tend to be spontaneous and love surprises.” Navin put up his hands. “Whoa! That’s way too much information. How would I ever put all that into a story?” “By showing how the character acts in a situation. A character that is slow paced and contemplative will take their time making decisions while someone who is fast paced will rush through things.” “I guess that makes sense. What about the other one?” Webster plunked down on the stack of papers. “Misconceptions are the lies a person tells themselves because of past experiences. For example, a character who believes they are never going to succeed was probably told that so often in their past that they believe it.” Navin frowned. How many times had his father told him he’d never be a real writer. He sighed. “So why is that important in a story?” The mouse pointed at the lists. “Look at the challenges you’ve been considering for your character. If they don’t believe they can ever hold down a job, it’s going to affect their ability to get one.” Navin studied the list he’d made. “But why would he feel that way?” Webster lifted a claw. “Ah! The importance of backstory. Why is your character homeless? Why doesn’t he have a job now?” Navin frowned. “I don’t know. Maybe he lost a job and wasn’t able to find a different one.” The mouse pushed the pen toward Narvin’s hand. “Think on paper. Create a real character. Give him believable characteristics. Define his atributes. Write a brief backstory for him that might show where his misconceptions come from. And don’t forget skills. What will he need to overcome the obstacles you’re giving him?” Navin picked up the pen. “If he had skills, wouldn’t he have a job?” “Skills are the qualities that the character has, or will need, to overcome the obstacles in your story. They aren’t necessarily job skills. Maybe he has a creative imagination and can see solutions other people can’t see.” Navin began thinking about his homeless man. “I’m not sure what to call him.” The mouse scratched his chin. “Character names can be powerful. Do you know what my name means?” Narvin stared at the mouse. “Names have meanings?” “Most certainly. Webster means weaver. It fits me well. I am a Tale Weaver. What meaning would your character’s name have?” Navin considered that. “Well, he feels lost.” “Then may I suggest Diggory. It means lost one.” Navin wrote it down. “Great. Now I have something to work with.” He begin invisioning this new character.
Chapter 5
Navin wrote Diggory at the top of a piece of paper. “Well, I know he’s a man who is homeless.” The mouse paced across the table. “That is a place to start. Now create some basic characteristics. His age, nationality, a general description.” Navin considered the homeless people he’d passed on the street. “Probably middle aged. An average guy. American. He has dark hair and brown eyes. Thin and tall. How’s that?” “Very average. So, tell me about his attributes.” Navin looked at the list he’d made. “From what I’ve seen of the people on the street, they tend to be slow but a lot of them talk to themselves. They usually don’t draw attention to themselves on purpose.” He considered the next few items. “I don’t really know how he thinks.” Webster hummed. “While it’s good to use real examples, you are creating a fictional character so you should use your imagination.” Navin shrugged. “He probably focuses on reality, especially the facts of his own situation. I’m not sure if he’s logical. I wouldn't think a logical person would end up on the street so he likely relies on personal belief.” The mouse agreed. “It is often personal beliefs that cause the greatest challenges.” Navin went back to the list. “I think he would be specific and literal but I don’t think he stands up for himself or he wouldn’t be in that situation. And I can’t imagine him being level-headed or flirting with fantasy.” The mouse shook his head. “Flirting with fantasy isn’t always positive. It could be a negative one as well.” Navin added that idea. “I don’t see him as cold and calculated. That sounds evil. But I can’t imagine him being warm and empathetic either.” “Could he have once been? Some attributes can be affected by circumstances.” Navin thought about it. “Maybe he was before.” He looked at the last items on the list. They reminded him of his cousin. “Concrete decisions, deadlines, rules, detailed instructions, and planning ahead. They all seem to go together.” “In some people they do. How about misconseptions?” Navin sat back in his chair. “I’m still not sure what that means.” The mouse sat on the edge of the table with his legs dangling over the side. “They usually come from past experiences and are connected to the problem the character is facing. How did your character end up homeless?” Navin frowned. “I have no idea.” Webster pointed at the paper. “Look at the attributes you listed. Could they suggest possibilities?” Navin considered his own situation. “Maybe he worked at a job that just paid enough for him to get by and believed it was all he could do. Then he got laid off because the business changed and he couldn’t learn the new methods.” Webster grinned. “Ah! Now you have something. Then what happened?” Navin’s own fears closed in around him. “When he couldn’t pay the rent, he got evicted.” “What about family? Why didn’t he go home?” Navin stared at the paper a moment. “Because his father told him to be a man and go earn his own way in the world so he’s afraid to ask for help.” The mouse gently patted Navin’s hand. “It seems to me you are drawing on personal experience.” Navin sighed. “Yeah.” Webster cleared his throat. “Now it’s time to think about the skills he will need to get out of his current situation.” Navin rubbed his forehead. “He doesn’t have a lot of skills. Only the ones he needed to do the job the old way.” Webster shook his head. “Skills don’t only refer to jobs. They refer to all sorts of things. You said he preferred to plan ahead. That could be a skill.” Navin wrinkled his nose. “He obviously didn’t do a very good job of that or he’d still have his job.” Webster rose and moved to the flowerpot. “There are different ways we plan ahead. If I had not thought about the flowerpot, there would not have been to place to plant the seeds.” “But how does a homeless person think ahead? They don’t have anything to rely on.” Webster hummed. “What goal would your character have?” “I guess to get off the street.” “And obstacles?” Navin pulled the list he’d previously made. “He needs money so he needs a job.” “That is certainly a long term goal. Consider the Level 1 needs - survival needs.” Navin looked at the crumbs on his plate. “Food and water. Everyone needs that everyday. And a place to sleep.” The mouse put his paws behind his back. “Consider those goals. What are the obstacles? The limits and stakes are fairly obvious.” Navin remembered the woman who had come into the diner begging to sweep the floor in exchange for the scraps others left behind. His father has shooed her away. His stomach tightened. “People don’t want to help the homeless.” Webster bowed his head. “Sadly, that is often the case. How could Diggory overcome that obstacle?” Navin closed his eyes and began considering different options.
Chapter 6
Navin felt a small tapping on his arm. He looked up. The mouse pointed toward the flowerpot. “Another bud has appeared. Maybe it might help you.” Navin focused his attention on the plant and found the bud. He examined the four sided pod. “More words. What kind of plant is this anyway?” Webster rubbed his chin. “A Kotoba. It means Speech Leaves in Japanese.” He cleared his throat. “You should look at the words.” Navin moved the foliage aside. “Genre, Alliances, Perspective, and Setting.” He frowned. “I know what Setting is. That’s where and when a story happens. But what are the others?” The mouse plopped down on the edge of the table. “Genre means different things to different people. For readers and bookstores, it has to do with the type of story - fantasy, science fiction, western, mystery, and so on. For writers, Genre is a scale that has reality at one end and impossible fantasy at the other.” Navin sat back and the metal chair groaned. “I’ve seen the labels. Science fiction has to do with space and fantasy is about wizards and dragons.” The mouse sighed. “But Genre is more than just labels. It affects the entire story. All fiction is technically fantasy as it isn’t usually a real story but it can mirror reality and still be about those topics.” Navin laughed. “How could a real story be about wizards and dragons?” “People all over the world had magic and mythical creatures in their literature and art. A story about an archaeologist finding a dragon statue at a dig is possible. To a writer, possible things are on the reality side of the scale. Impossible things, like real flying dragons are on the fantastic side.” Navin shrugged. “I guess that makes sense. My story feels pretty real. How about Alliances?” Webster moved to the page where Navin had been listing obstacles. “I see you have written down some people on this list. They would be negative alliances because they oppose the character’s goals. Anyone who helps the main character is a positive alliance.” “So, they’re the other characters in the story.” The mouse nodded. “As for Perspective, that refers to how the story is told.” Navin pointed at the paper. “I’m writing it.” Webster shook his head. “Don’t they teach anything in school any more? Perspective is viewpoint and tense.” Narvin frowned. “I’m definitely tense.” The mouse hung his head. “Not tension. Tense is past, present, or future. Most stories are written in past tense although some experimental writers use present. I’ve yet to see anything written in future tense.” “Past tense. I know what it means. And Viewpoint?” Webster looked thoughtful. “That defines who is telling the story. In first person, the character is telling the story using I and me. But in third person, the story is being told about the character.” “Is there a second?” “Not often used. That is where the author talks directly to the reader.” Navin considered the books he enjoyed reading. “I think I understand Perspective now. I’ll use past tense but I’m not sure if I want Diggory to tell his own story.” “First person draws the reader closer to the character but it does have limits. You can only have that character tell the story. Third person allows for multiple viewpoints.” Navin rubbed his eyes. “Maybe I’ll wait to decide that until I actually start writing. At least setting is easy. Here and now.” The mouse moved to the window. “That is a possibility but you’ll still need to define some things. Setting is more than just location and time. It can describe many different aspects of the story world from actual terrain, to economics, poitics, religions, and culture. It can also affect the genre. What if your character wasn’t in this time or place?” Navin glanced at his watch and sighed. “Speaking of time and place, I have to get to work. I’ll have to come back to Diggory later.”
Chapter 7
Navin changed quickly and hurried down the eight flights of stairs to the diner on the first floor. As he entered the back door that led into the kitchen, his father, Amir, looked at his watch. “Pushing it pretty close, Navin. Get your apron on. There are already customers waiting at the counter and Tikva is busy with the tables.” Navin donned his apron and pushed out through the serving doors. Mister Miller looked up from his stool and smiled. “Good evening, Navin. Good to see you.” Navin refilled his coffee. “And how are you tonight, Mister Miller.” The older gentleman described his day but Navin only half listened. He noticed the homeless wandering by the windows, not daring to look up. He was caught off guard when elder asked him a question. He looked up, startled. Mister Miller grinned. “You look far away.” Navin wiped the counter. “Sorry. I’ve been working on a story and can’t seem to get it out of my head.” The door of the diner swung open and Tony sauntered in. He took a seat at the counter and leaned his elbows on it. “Hey, Navin. Where you been, man? Haven’t seen you out and about lately.” Navin handed him a menu. The last thing he wanted to do was tell Tony about the strange company he’d been keeping that day. “I've been busy.” Mister Miller chuckled. “It takes time to come up with a good story.” Tony frowned. “A story? What for. We aren’t in school anymore, dude.” Navin’s cheeks burned. “It's for a contest.” Tony smirked. “Is it any good?” Navin shrugged. “I just started.” The door opened again. Uncle Max and Ronny came in with trays of fresh bread from their bakery next door. Navin smiled at his cousin. He wasn’t the only one stuck working for his family. Mister Miller sipped his coffee. “So, what’s your story about?” Uncle Max paused at the corner of the counter. “Navin’s writing a story? Hah. That’s a good joke.” Tikva moved toward the serving doors with a full bus bin. “Navin has a lot of imagination. I can’t wait to read it.” His sister pushed through the serving doors. Ronny grinned. “ I think it’s a good idea. Writing improves the mind.” His mother, Ima, leaned over the order counter from the kitchen frowning. “If his mind is on stories he isn’t paying attention to customers.” Mister Miller shook his head. “The boy is doing just fine, Ima. Don’t worry yourself.” Uncle Max motioned toward the kitchen. “Let’s get this bread in before it cools.” Ronny followed but looked back At Navin. “Don’t mind my Papa. I don’t think he’s ever read anything beyond cookbooks and ledgers.” He went through the swinging service doors and disappeared. Mister Miller finished his coffee and set money on the counter. “Don’t give up on your dream. Write your story.” Tony put his menu down. “Dreams are useless. They don’t pay the bills. If you like stories so much, you should work in a bookshop.” Amir appeared at the service doors and motioned to Navin. He had no choice but the go. Amir scowled. “Ronny was talking about some story your are writing. You'd better not be wasting time here thinking up fairy tales.” Navin wiped his hands on the towel wrapped over his apron strings. “I’m not. I’m focused on customers.” Amir grumbled. Ima called loudly. “Order up for the counter.” Navin escaped the kitchen and grabbed the plate. He set it down beside a man at the end of the counter. “Enjoy your meal, sir.” Motion beyond the window caught his attention. A homeless man had paused and looked inside at the people eating. Ima peered over the order counter. “I wished they didn’t hang about the back alley. They make me nervous when I have to go out there.” The man walked on. Navin patted his mother’s hand. I’ll take out the trash if it bothers you, Mama.” The evening got busy but Navin couldn’t help thinking about Diggory as he served customers while homeless people drifted by. It began to bother him. As he cleared plates, he dumped any still edible food into a plastic container. When he took the trash out, he gave the container to one of the homeless men sitting in the alley. He watched a moment as that man moved toward the others and shared the contents. Amir grabbed his arm as he returned inside. “What are you doing? If you feed them back there, they will never leave us alone!” Navin frowned. “Isn’t it better to give them the scraps directly rather than have them dig through the dumper and make a mess?” His father huffed. “It would be better that they aren’t there at all. What is this world coming to?” Navin thought about that as he climbed up the eight flights of stairs to his tiny apartment. How would Diggory survive if the world was filled will men like his father? The mouse was asleep on a small bed beside the flower pot. Navin was too tired to even wonder where it had come from.
Chapter 8
Navin woke slowly. Memories of the previous day swirled through his thoughts. The homeless men, the confrontation with his father, and the mouse. He sat up on his cot and turned toward the table. The mouse sat on the edge swinging his legs. Webster waved. “Good morning, Navin. How did things go at work?” Navin groaned and rolled off the cot. “It was rough. My father got on my case because I gave some leftovers to a homeless guy in the back alley.” The mouse rose. “Ah, conflict! It's the heart of every good story. So your father must be your antagonist.” Navin frowned. "What do you mean?" “Tell me what happened.” Navin told him about his family's reaction to his attempt at writing a story, Mister Miller's encouragement, and Tony's suggestion he should work in a bookshop. Webster nodded. “You have quite a full alliance set.” Navin dressed. “I'm not really sure I understand the idea of alliances.” The mouse moved to the stack of paper and picked up a stubby pencil. “In a story, the main character with a goal is called the protagonist.” He wrote the word on that page. Navin moved to the table and stared at the paper. “Wow, you have good hand writing.” Webster drew an arrow and wrote another word. “The obstacle that opposes the protagonist is call the antagonist. It’s often a person but it could be something else.” Navin sat down. “Like what?” “It could be a force of nature or even an internal false belief within the protagonist.” “I remember you mentioned misbeliefs.” Webster agreed. “Now Mister Miller was encouraging you. That makes him the mentor. And your friend, Tony, who offered an alternative direction, would be the contagonist.” Navin watched the mouse add those to the page. “I’ve never heard of the second one.” “A contagonist generally opposes the advice of the mentor.” Navin considered that. “I’m not sure Tony was serious.” Webster hummed. “It sounds like your sister, Tikva, is a sidekick.” Navin huffed. “She doesn’t kick me.” The mouse raised an eyebrow. “A sidekick is someone who has faith in the protagonist’s ability to reach their goal.” Navin sighed. “She is always encouraging me.” Webster drew an arrow and added another word. “The skeptic often opposes the sidekick. I’d say your Uncle Max seemed very skeptical of your ability.” Navin rubbed his face. “That’s for sure. I didn’t do so great in school and he doubts I could write anything worth reading.” “Your cousin, Ronnie, is the voice of logic, who balances your mother’s emotional worry. The Logical and Emotional characters don’t have any fancy titles but they make up the final pair in a full alliance.” Navin looked down at the list. “I never thought of them in the sense of characters.” Webster pulled out the page with Diggory’s information. “Now think about the various character types and how they might apply for Diggory. You have several options for antagonist.” Navin looked over the list. “I’d think a police officer would be a good antagonist. They are always telling the homeless people to move on.” The mouse wrote it down. “And who might give Diggory the advice he needs to eventually solve his problem?” Navin closed his eyes. “I don’t know. I guess I don’t know enough about homeless people. I just feel bad for them.” Webster sat down on the edge of the table. “You see them everyday and fear you might become one yourself but that isn’t enough information to build a story. You might need to do some research.” Navin frowned. “You think I should go around asking the homeless people?” The mouse shook his head. “You will need a path for Diggory to succeed, therefore, you must discover how a homeless person eventually gets off the street.” Navin crossed his arms. “I don’t even know where to start.” Webster moved to the window. “Do you see that man down there in the orange and yellow coat?” Navin leaned forward and peered down at the street. From eight floors up, the people on the sidewalk were just a blur. “You have better eyesight than I do.” The mouse grinned. “You should go down and have a chat with him. You might just discover a mentor for Diggory.”
Chapter 9
Navin folded a few sheets of paper and grabbed a pencil. “I just hope the man will talk to me. I feel awkward going up to someone like that.” Webster motioned toward the door. “I bet he’s used to talking to people. You’ll do fine.” Navin went down the eight flights of stairs and out onto the street. The man in the orange and yellow jacket was easy to find. He was leaning on the corner of the building talking to someone out of sight. Navin walked forward until he could see the other person. It was a old man in ragged clothes huddled against the wall. The man in the bright jacket spoke softly. The old man shook his head. “Don’t want no preachin’. It ain’t done me no good.” The man in the jacket sighed and turned away. He noticed Navin. “Good morning. I there anything I can do you help you?” Navin was puzzled by the question. “How did you know I needed help?” The man smiled. “Just the expression on your face. How long have you been homeless?” Navin gasped. “I’m not homeless. At least not yet. Actually, I’m trying to write a story about a homeless man who finds a way off the street. But I don’t know how that works.” The man held out his hand. “I'm Ezra Sasuke. I work for a nonprofit orgnization called the Union Mission. We do outreach with the homeless, trying to help them find pathways to recovery.” Navin shoved the folded paper and pen in his pocket and shook his hand. “So what options do homeless people have?” Ezra handed him a brochure. “There are shelters here in New York that offer may resources. The biggest challenge we face is convincing people to get the help they need.” Navin caught his breath. “Why wouldn’t they want help?” Ezra’s forehead furrowed. “Sadly, not all shelters are the best places. They can be crowded, dirty, and crime ridden. We try our best to provide a safe and helpful environment in our shelters but if they have experienced issues at others, their trust has been damaged. Unlike some shelters, we don’t expect people to be perfect. We have drug rehab councilors and health care personnel that volunteer their time. We also allow people to keep their pets as long as the animal is safe.” Navin considered that. “That sounds very positive. Why wouldn’t they want those things?” “Sadly, many people who have been on the street a long time have trauma and mental health challenges because of their struggle to survive. They never get enough sleep or decent food and they have no way to shower or wash their clothes. That’s why wee offer all of those services. But it takes them time to accept help. That’s why I’m out here every day, offering gently in hopes they will one day trust me enough to come in.” Navin thought about his story. “What if someone loses their job and then their home because they can’t pay rent. Apartments are really expensive.” Ezra pointed at the brochure. “There are job retraining and placement programs as well as housing assistance. Our agency wants to help but the person has to overcome their fear, guilt, and shame over their losses.” Navin took out his paper and made a few quick notes. “Thank you for you help and what you are trying to do for these people.” He went back inside. Tikva caught his arm as he passed the door to the kitchen. “I saw you talking to the shelter man. Is everything okay?” He hugged his sister. “I’ll survive. I just needed some information for a story I’m working on.” She smiled. “I can’t wait to read it.” Navin heard his father’s deep voice and didn’t want to get her in trouble. “You’d better go before Papa catches you out here.” She gave him a final hug. “I know you can do it, Navin. Don’t give up.” She hurried back into the kitchen and closed the service door. Navin went up the stairs thinking about the things Ezra had told him. Diggory would need to overcome his shame and ask for help. Would writing the story help those on the street, too? Webster was waiting for him on the table. “You look very thoughtful.” Navin sat down. “I am. I think I understand the homeless people better now.” He put the brochure down and glanced at his notes. “Now I just need to figure out how to put it all into a story.”