Writer's Workshop: Challenging Traditional Story Concepts · 6:16am Feb 2nd, 2017
All of us are embedded with ideas and concepts we've picked up from our culture. These ideas appear in our stories so easily that oftentimes we don't realize that there could be any other way to tell it. I'd like to take this moment to look at these assumptions and illuminate some alternate possibilities. (Think of this as a prototype Formula Breakers.) For starters, let's check out:
The Call to Action
The Call to Action is one of the key facets of the Hero's Journey. In it, the Hero is told by some authority figure to set off on their journey. In some versions, the Hero rejects this at first, leading to grief and heartbreak as the Call gets... more insistent. Look at the pilot, or indeed any of the season openers, to see exactly this formula. Twilight gets sent to head off some major conflict by Princess Celestia or the Cutie Mark Map. In the pilot, she rejects this Call, and her punishment is Night Mare Moon's escape.
This model relies, in a sense, on the unwillingness of the main character. The Hero wants to stay in the familiar, the known, the ordinary, and the Call forces them out. But what if the Hero chooses on their own accord to set out? Take for example the Buddha; when he went out into the world and saw suffering, poverty, and death, he resolved to leave his life of luxury and discover enlightenment. Another variant to this would be a la "A Dog and Pony Show," where the main character is drawn into the unfamiliar without any agency on their part, and they must find a way to escape. Finally, what if we leave the Main Character in the familiar, but pull the Influence Character into the unfamiliar? "Sonic Rainboom" is a particularly interesting version of this. Rainbow Dash is our Main Character, so Cloudsdale is familiar to her. But Rarity's unfamiliarity with it leads her to break Rainbow's calm demeanor. Or how about "Putting Your Hoof Down?" Fluttershy is our Main Character, but when she steps into the unfamiliar, she's not the one who has to deal with it; instead, her new attitude ripples into Rarity and Pinkie Pie, who suffer the consequences of her bullying.
The Nature of Evil
What is evil? For that matter, what is good? As I explained in my primer to deconstruction, words derive their meaning from our mutual agreement and through the control of those in power. So where do we get our ideas of good and evil? Well, in Western society, we've been handed down for generations a very reductive, black-and-white idea of good and evil, particularly evil. Evil is Satan, witches, corruption, darkness. How many stories have you read where the bad guy is some evil Overlord bent on conquest for selfish, destructive reasons? Sombra, Tirek, Discord--these were all villains who just wanted to see the world burn.
When you consider other paradigms, you begin to see how simplistic this really is. For example, look at the Triforce in The Legend of Zelda or the Dark Dragon from Mother 3. These are the most powerful forces in the universe, but they are neither good nor evil; instead, they change depending on the attitude of their wielders. This is a very different ontology than the Abrahamic God and Devil. Now take this same concept and apply it to ideas, strategies, or abilities. "Putting Your Hoof Down" is, again, a great example of this. Iron Will's teachings really do help Fluttershy... to a point. When used to defend what Fluttershy rightfully deserves, they help give her a backbone. However, once she starts using them more aggressively to cut in lines and take potshots at Rarity and Pinkie Pie, these once-helpful ideas turn sour. Ultimately, Fluttershy neither completely rejects Iron Will's teachings nor completely succumbs to them. Instead, she becomes the sort of pony who can wield them appropriately. You can get a lot of mileage out of this transfer of morality. Another strong option you've got here is "the choice between two rights," as I've heard it put. What if your "villain" isn't doing evil so much as doing a type of good that unfortunately clashes with another kind of virtue? You can see a shadow of this in "Suited for Success." Rarity is stuck between two virtues: making her clients happy, and creating products she can be proud of. If you consider an alternative version of the episode where the five of them are paying for the dresses, the conflict is even more profound. (Wait, that episode already exists: it's called "Canterlot Boutique." ...Kind of.)
Begin at the Beginning
I'm not sure if this is a "culture" thing so much as "the easiest thing to do," but when we write stories, we tend to choose main characters at the start of their lives. A rookie joining the force, a team on their first mission together, a traveler visiting the planet for the first time. These characters may technically have lived childhoods or had formative experiences, but when the story starts, these past events are less important than the fact that they are a blank slate, learning and experiencing new things that add to their worldview rather than change it. Who this character was is less important than what they will be, if that makes sense.
Yet if you actually think about your own experience, this seems almost laughably unrealistic. Do you go into new challenges basically unopinionated? No! You come burdened with a plethora of beliefs and experiences that affect how you act. So what if your character comes in the same way? One option for this is to make your character an old veteran. They've experienced just about everything the world has to offer, and they've become rooted down into a specific mindset. This also gets a bit into the "familiar/unfamiliar" thing; when this character goes out into the world, they're interacting with familiar things, but they have to use the new context the story has forced them into. Look at "On Your Cutie Marks:" that entire episode is about Apple Bloom struggling with and growing out of her past models of friends spending time together. Alternatively, "Hurricane Fluttershy" does this without any previous episodes to set up the framework. Fluttershy's memories of being bullied during flight camp set the backdrop for her inability to fly at a useful speed. In order to achieve success, she needs to drown out the voices from her past and accept that even a little bit can make a difference. Contrast this with, say, "Filli Vanilli," where Fluttershy's fear of the spotlight isn't grounded in that same sort of previous experience.
Man, I had a ton more I wanted to talk about. Government and religion, romance (again, I know), the way the Guardian instructs the Hero, destiny/fate, the "lowest moment"... maybe this will have to get a part 2. In any case, I hope this gets you to think a little bit about the way you understand some of the fundamentals of story. They're much more fluid than they let on. 
On the topic of "what is evil," I bring to the court NieR. At first blush things seem pretty black and white. Big nasty monsters are busting up my town, wolves are killing people, buggy robot monster messing things up downtown. Kill the bads, save the kid, job well done. And then, upon further playthroughs (and many are required to get the full experience) everything becomes so shrouded in grey even the Everlasting Dragons would be like, "yo guys, maybe expand the color palette a little."
This may be apocryphal, as I heard it during an LP I was watching, but one of the driving development ideas behind NieR was, "could we construct a scenario in which the horrible violence our antagonists perform is actually justified?" I think they mostly succeeded in this regard. Once I got the full story I sympathized with the villains and their motivations, and I'm not entirely sure I wouldn't have done the same in their position.