The Ordinary World - where great stories begin!

Just over ten years ago I was in my early twenties and life was hardly turning out the way I had hoped. Not a year or so earlier I graduated from a fine university with excellent marks and was brimming over with the potential and lofty goals of eager youth. But my degree proved harder to use in the dreaded “real world” than anticipated. I was working an entry-level sales job that was as far from the glamorous or “important” roles for which my dreams once told me I was destined back in high school. I was too embarrassed to date much because I was literally living in my parents’ basement, who themselves were in the middle of a divorce. There wasn’t much money and as far as I could tell there was no way out of the trap I was in to the life I actually wanted.

I had become a cliché. I was living in a rut. Something needed to change.

Fast forward from that moment to 9 years later. I had somehow become a multi-unit manager for an outstanding organization. My team and I helped each other learn and grow in our respective roles. We were successful, winning awards, and the majority of my store visits consisted of congratulations and high fives. There was enough money to enjoy nice things and time enough to explore my true, first love: writing. I frequented a local coffee shop in which I was the local writer who's drink was prepared before even reaching the front of the line. Good friends lived nearby and I was settled into a comfortable pattern of living.

I was happy. I was travelling a pleasant and easy stretch in the road of life. It was too good to last.

What is the common thread between these two places in life? They seem as opposite as moments in life can be: the valley and the plateau. But what ties them together is that they are both the moments between times of change and upheaval. They are the beginnings of stories, the starting points from which either action must be taken or the unexpected event turns life on its head. In literary structure, these times are what some systems refer to as “the ordinary world.”

The ordinary world is the static place that is about to be changed radically by the events of the forthcoming story. But for that story to become a great story, it is vital to clearly establish the place where it began. If I jump right into telling you that there’s a man named Forest Gump who is a multi-millionaire shrimp tycoon, you may be impressed. But if I also tell you that Forest Gump began life as a poor, handicapped child raised by a single mother in the deep south who went on to become that tycoon, you would not only be deeply impressed, but you would probably want to know exactly how he ended up where he did! The beginning of the story, the ordinary world from which our hero emerges, is key in setting up your audience for the emotions they should feel at the end of the story and during all the events in between. The clearer the picture we paint of that ordinary world the greater the emotional payoff once we reach the end of our tale.

In order to create an effective ordinary world I believe it is important to remember three points:
• The ordinary world is a global state of affairs in your setting, affecting a greater group of characters. But it is also a situation with a unique impact and effect on your hero (which is essential, as this element will drive your hero into action as events unfold.)
• The ordinary world is usually more than a blip on the radar. Whether things are good or bad, it’s important that they’ve been that way for a significant period of time.
• There are, in general, three types of ordinary worlds.

Ordinary world #1: The Rut/The Valley/The Dark Times

In this type of ordinary world we start at a very low point (though perhaps not the lowest point, as things will probably get worse before they get better.) Life is tough and joy is scarce in the dark times, whether it be for a household, a neighborhood, a whole city, or even an entire country or planet. But as tough as life is for the group it’s even tougher for the individual who will eventually become our hero. It is a world that needs to change. This may be the most common ordinary world in storytelling.

In The Hunger Games, District 12 is a poor and dirty place where the only work to be had is dangerous digging in the coalmines. But as harsh as that might be, it’s even more difficult for Katniss, who has lost her father to the mines and has been forced to care for her mother and sister on her own.

In Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, the Dursley household is a miserable place full of people who would be unhappy even in the best of times. But it is that much worse for Harry, forced to live in a closet and tormented daily by his cousin, Dudley.

To use an example from film, in Rocky, Rocky Balboa lives in a poor, Philadelphia neighborhood full of the disenfranchised, troubled youths, and run-down apartments and stores. But it is tougher for Rocky, a lonely, never-was boxer who works as an enforcer for the mob and has just had his locker taken from him at the local boxing gym.

Ordinary World #2: the Good Life/the Plateau/the Golden Age

In this version of the ordinary world all seems well (at least on the surface.) Crops are plentiful, a good King/Queen sits on the throne, people are happy, and even our hero is blessed a particular something that makes their world a joyful place. It is a world too good to last. This is a less commonly used starting point. However, it is used frequently in horror where it is common to take a comfortable, pleasant environment and throw it into chaos. This version is also seen in some sequels, when the hero has already solved a first set of problems and is enjoying the success of early victories.

In The Lord of the Rings, Middle Earth, and specifically the Shire, has been free of dark magic and orcs for generations. The hobbits eat, drink, and throw merry parties for a living. Frodo especially enjoys life, drinking nightly at the pub with his friend, Sam, and living with a rich uncle who adores him.

In Michael Scott’s The Alchemyst, the Newman family is a happy, modern family, headed by a successful and famous husband and wife archeology team. Sophie and Josh have even been lucky enough to spend the summer in San Francisco with their favorite aunt and have found the perfect summer jobs at a coffee shop and an old, used book store.

In the film Titanic, the world seems to be a place of innovation and promise. An unsinkable ship, representing the peak of modern, human genius, has been built and is set for its maiden voyage, full of wealthy, joyful passengers. Even young Jack, with barely a penny to his name, wins a ticket onto the incredible vessel and sees the hope and promise a new life across the sea.

#3 The Grass is Always Greener/See no Evil, Hear no Evil

Perhaps even more infrequently used than the Good Life version of the ordinary world is what I like to call either the Grass is always Greener or the See no Evil, Hear no Evil version. In this ordinary world the global experience and the unique, hero experience will usually differ in some key way, which will eventually lead to confrontation and change for both. Sometimes the hero is a sheltered person, living a good life but blind to the hardships of the greater world around him. Other times the hero is specifically (and often times selfishly) unhappy, even though the world in which she lives is a good place.

In The Little Mermaid (both the original fairy tale and the film version) the Little Mermaid is a princess living in a peaceful, underwater kingdom ruled by her noble father. But she is unhappy, longing for a life and love in another world above the waves that she doesn’t truly understand.

In the film Empire of the Sun, Jaime Graham is the son of a wealthy, British family living in Shanghai who plays tennis and likes to go to parties with the adults. He knows shockingly little of the Chinese culture in which he is growing up and is oblivious to the fact that the world around him is descending into war and chaos.

There are long chapters in many books devoted to the subject of beginnings and the ordinary world. But if you are reading through early drafts of your novel or story and are concerned that the second act or the finale feels weak or is failing to generate enough emotional impact for your audience, you might start by looking at the beginning of the story. Here are a few questions you may ask yourself:
• Have I have given the global world in my story a specific starting point, whether good or bad?
• Have I given my central character a more unique situation or experience that is consistent with the global world’s environment?
• If I want to drag my character through the mud and put him through real hardships, have I started him in a comfortable enough place that will make those hardships that much more painful?
• If I want my character to have an impact on her world and make it a better place, have I started her world off in a deep enough valley or a thick enough darkness?
• If I want my character to learn a hard lesson about the reality of life, have I started him blind enough to the world around him?
• If I want my character to overcome impossible odds to achieve unexpected victory, have I started her off in a low enough place with a difficult enough disadvantage or struggle?


Once we’ve taken the time to establish an ordinary world as our setting and given our hero a unique place in that world, we will have set our central character up for the next, crucial step in solid story structure: the moment of longing.

I hope everyone has a great week, full of plenty of writing time in between all the turkey, football, and shopping!