When the Woods Fall Silent began as a film treatment and script. At the time of its conception, I
was haunted by my encounter with… whatever that thing was out there, in both a figurative and
literal sense. It’s said in New Mexico that if you make eye contact with evil spirits, they’ll follow
you wherever you go; I discovered that was very much true.
Shortly after my encounter, 2020 rolled around, and shortly after that, I found myself stuck
inside my home for two and a half years.
With little else to do at the time, I enrolled in online film making classes, when that was a career
path I thought I was well suited for. I met a wonderful teacher, acknowledged in the beginning of
the book, named Adam T., in a course called “Writing the TV Pilot.” Upon finding his teaching
style meshed with my writing style, I signed up for the class he taught remote the following
semester, called “Writing Digital Media.”
Truthfully, if it weren’t for Adam, When the Woods Fall Silent would’ve remained a nightmare in
the recesses of my mind. In writing the story as a feature length film, and in developing its
characters, I found my peace. Shortly after, the strange things occurring began to slowly drop off
in frequency, and my sanity returned in kind. I looked out into the world, and saw opportunity
waiting. My writing was left in a folder on my bookshelf for maybe a year before I began to
think of it again.
I’d left When the Woods Fall Silent (then titled Dying To Feel Alive) as a mostly finished script,
with characters that still felt shallow and superficial. Perhaps the format of script didn’t go as in
depth as I wanted it to, or that by nature, the only thing provided by a screenplay’s author is
backstory; and actors are left to develop the character in person as they choose.
Regardless of the reason, I felt at least a few scenes deserved justice by being performed. When a
lack of performance actors destroyed that, I decided to just write out the scene piece by
meticulous piece to give some element of existence to a story that I hold deeply close.
Before I knew it, I had written every scene as a chapter, where it previously existed as little more
than a few pages of dialogue. Rereading it as I had originally envisioned it left me still
unsatisfied.
I felt the story itself was strong, but its support (the characters) were weak. I turned to John
Truby, author of The Anatomy of Story: 22 Steps to Becoming a Master Storyteller. If anyone
wishes to tell stories, be it film or writing or whatever other alternatives exist, I’d highly highly
HIGHLY recommend this book to show you how. Hell, if you’re already an author and haven’t
heard of this, check it out. It’s a tremendous resource in creating a story based off of character,
rather than characters based off a story; which had been the original way I was writing before I
met Adam T., who provided this incredible resource.
There’s one chapter that I found incredibly useful for Cooper Elliot, to point to the protagonist of
When the Woods Fall Silent; namely, Chapter 3, “The Seven Key Steps of Story Structure.” I’d
like to discuss these seven steps in regard to Cooper. Before I continue, I will also point out Dan
Harmon’s story circle as a valuable resource, though it is one I believe potential storytellers
should further research on their own.
Dan Harmon is the mind behind the cult classic TV series Community and the producer behind
instant hit Rick and Morty. He created a version of the Hero’s Journey that is referred to as his
Story Circle, and covers the broad steps of the hero’s journey in a more grounded and modern
reference. Again, this will not be discussed in the blog, but I once again highly recommend
looking into its structure. John Truby is more specific in his design, which is why he is the center
of attention today.
Before I go further, I want to provide a spoiler-free description of Cooper Elliot. He is a twenty-
something on the verge of leaving the small town of Pinerock, but only after he finds the secrets
it holds. The secret he is looking for, specifically, is that of the Creature living in Pinerock
Woods, which he suspect has taken his father. He saw it the night his dad disappeared, and ever
since, he has been searching high and low for answers: what is it, where does it live, what does it
want?
They’re dangerous questions with dangerous answers. But no one else believes him, until his
former childhood friend returns to town….
But before we read ahead, what is the purpose of the seven steps? Not to create story at any rate,
but to strengthen the story that already exists. The seven steps are implied in any given story.
Truby recommends writing down your story using at least 5 sentences, to no more than 10-15
sentences. The more sentences you write, the easier it is to identify the seven steps and the
stronger your story will become, simply because the seven steps follow human nature. It is in our
DNA to struggle, to fight, and to fail; as such, the same is true in a story, if you wish for your
story to connect with your audience.
Additionally, your audience may identify differently than how you originally identified with your
seven steps. This is okay as well. A story, in books, movies television, video games, or any other
media, is not for you to decide how an audience interacts with it. The most you can do is craft a story that you can connect with. When it reaches someone else, our inherent differences force a
separate interpretation in everyone.
So again, the seven steps are not for you to necessarily craft a story from scratch with, but to
identify key connection points within that story for your audience to connect with in turn.
- Weakness and Need
Truby argues that a hero “has one or more great weaknesses that are holding him back” when the
story starts. It’s a flaw that is so great that the character is missing a part of themselves, and
because of that flaw, the character’s life is being ruined. I found this to mean that the character is
at fault for their own tragedy, and that the shape of the story is based on the character’s ability to
grow and overcome that flaw, which is the character’s need.
Additionally, this is ordinarily not something the character is aware of; the need is only made
aware at the end of the seven steps. There can be more than one need. Truby recommends both a
moral and psychological need for your character. The difference between the two is that a
psychological need requires a flaw that hurts no one but the main character; a moral need means
that there is a moral flaw that requires the character to act better towards others.
In my understanding, the need is a response to weakness. Cooper’s weakness, for example, is
that he’s obsessive and unable to be truthful with himself. He tends to exert these subconscious
frustrations associated with this onto other people. As a counter, Cooper’s psychological need is
to be truthful with himself, and his moral need is to drop his obsession. - Desire
Or to rephrase it, what does the character want? What is their direct goal in the story? The desire
is what forms the substance of your story. The goal of every story isn’t a broad one, but a specific
one coming from your protagonist. Their struggle is what we follow as they fight for that goal.
Desire and need, however, tend to be confused with each other. Desire and need are innately two
separate actions. I think Disney’s The Princess and the Frog is a prime example of this
(spoilers): Tiana wants (desire) to open her own restaurant; to do this, she must break the curse
cast on her that turns her into a frog. What Tiana needs to do is be happy with what she has,
which she of course only realizes after Dr. Facilier is defeated and she’s to be married with
Prince Naveen.
In Truby’s words, “(n)eed has to do with overcoming a weakness within the character…. Desire
is a goal outside the character.” (44). In that respect, Cooper’s desire is simple: find the thing that
took his father, and hopefully find his father alongside that. The story doesn’t start until the
protagonist finds their desire.
Truby warns to be careful, however, in finding desire; weakness and need are the FIRST step to
any story and the true foundation behind a tale with meaning behind it. Desire drives the plot, but
weakness and need allow a character to change from beginning to end.
- Opponent
The story, regardless of which story you’re referring to, is structure based. People often mistake
an opponent, or antagonist, as somebody inherently evil that contradicts the protagonist. This is
only partially correct, and barely at that.
The opponent wants to stop the protagonist from achieving their desire, and in addition, is
actually competing with the protagonist for the same goal. In stories with multiple antagonists, it
can be hard to determine who the opponent is, but really, all that needs to be done is to find the
opponent that wants to keep your hero from getting their specific goal.
Cooper’s opponent is the Creature. It endeavors to stop both him and his old friend, Evelyn, from
reaching their individual goals. On the tail of that, it can be observed that the opponent can also
be described as the main character. If they have the same desire, what’s stopping an author from
telling the same story on the other side? What I’m trying to say is that a good opponent, in my
opinion, can double as a hero just as easily as an opponent. - Plan
In the same way that desire and need are inherently linked, the plan of the protagonist is linked to
both the opponent and the desire of the hero. The plan is always made to defeat the opponent and
reach the goal. This can be very complex and physically written down, or it can be vague and
unclear.
Cooper’s plan is to find the Eye of the Beholder, a fabled item that Evelyn believes is out in the
woods somewhere. Once he finds it, he wants to get the hell out of Pinerock. - Battle
Stories have a beginning, middle, and end. Truby describes the middle as a punch/counterpunch
as each tries to win the goal. It can be likened to the rise in action in the traditional hero’s
journey; the climax being the battle, or the final conflict between hero and opponent in which the
author determines which one achieves their goal.
Since it’s spoiler heavy, I’ll likely stop relating the seven steps to Cooper right here. If you want
to see his final battle, and the following steps as they pertain to Coop, you’re gonna have to read
When the Woods Fall Silent! - Self-Revelation
Truby states that “the battle is an intense and painful experience for the hero.” During that battle,
the hero must reach a major revelation about themselves. Basically, it’s the conclusion to the
weakness and the need, and so the self-revelation must also have a psychological revelation and
a moral revelation.
That said, I’d wager the majority of you reading aren’t interested in recreating an episode of any
show on PBS Kids. The self-revelation is almost never direct and the hero should never just say
what they learned. In the words of another professor, Rick: show, don’t tell. It is rule one for all
of filmmaking, and in my opinion, any given story. The hero needs to show that they have
reached a self-revelation in their actions. It is the most difficult part of the story for a character
and requires you to prove that the character has demonstrated growth from the beginning of the
story—be it a positive or negative change.
That said, there are exceptions to this. You’ll see this rule broken a lot in comedies, because the
character can get away with saying what they learned by it being a joke to the audience. This
tends to avoid the “sermonizing,” in Truby’s words, that turn off an audience to vocal self-
revelation.
- New Equilibrium
This is the very end of the story, where everything returns to normal and the desire is now gone.
To think of it in the sense of a circle (remember, Dan Harmon’s Story Circle), we have made it a
full 360 degrees clockwise, and we’re back where we started; however, with the added benefit of
having made it all the way around the circle.
In the sense of character, the hero has changed since the first step, be it a positive change or a
negative change. It is a permanent change, resulting in the hero learning who they are and how to
live with the world, or learning that they have committed a terrible act or crime that represents
their low integrity. That, or the self-revelation has failed, and the character falls into evil or is
destroyed. The reverse can be true as well. Remember: the “hero” of your story does not need to
represent good.
Anakin Skywalker/Darth Vader is the prime example of this, in both Revenge of the Sith (Lucas,
2005) and Return of the Jedi (Marquand, 1983) (spoilers, but whoever hasn’t seen Star Wars by
now is either too young to be reading this book or isn’t interested in Star Wars whatsoever). In
Revenge of the Sith, Anakin’s self-revelation is that he has failed to save his wife, Padme, from
death; his fall turns him into Darth Vader. In contrast, in Return of the Jedi, Vader’s self-
revelation is that although he could not save the people he loved from death before, he has the
opportunity to now save his own son, and does so, rejecting the persona of Darth Vader and
reverting to Anakin Skywalker.
These seven steps are present in any story, whether you recognize it or not. Again, it is not a
preconceived notion in your mind as you make a conflict with characters and an ending. These
traits are identifiable in any story on Earth. The purpose for your seven steps is to enhance the
connections between your story and your audience.
Personally, I enjoy utilizing these seven steps with every single one of my characters, regardless
of their purpose in the story. My belief is that every person believes themselves to be the “main
character” in the greater view of the world; why wouldn’t that apply to a fictional character as
well? I hope that you, the reader, will be able to identify that in When the Woods Fall Silent. You
may even find yourself wanting to know what happens next, and who’s to say? Everyone has a
purpose. Everyone has their story.
For further reading, I cannot recommend buying and reading Truby’s Anatomy of Story enough.
I’ve only scratched the surface of the third chapter, as I feel it’s a vital step that most people tend
to miss crafting a story. The Anatomy of Story is very much a master storyteller’s bible. I do not
claim to have reached the point of master storytelling, but John Truby will send you on your way
well enough with that book.
After all, without it, When the Woods Fall Silent would remain a somewhat disappointing screenplay that no one would have ever experienced.