I had a minor breakthrough the other day…

My main character, let’s call him Frank Quantum. That’s not his actual name, but anyway. Frank Quantum has a girlfriend. We’ll call her Lucille.

Frank and Lucille get separated by circumstances beyond their control–torn apart by the villain of the story. We’ll call this villain Peter although that’s not real name. Get used to the alternate name thing… you know the drill.

So Peter starts some things in motion that separate Frank Quantum and his girl Lucille. Frank already has his character arc established. In fact, most of Frank’s details, hooks, positioning, and his development over the course of the story are all set in stone.

But I had a problem. Frank’s girl Lucille was useless. I’d always wanted to turn her into a spinoff character–a strong female character that could star in some stories of her own. I hadn’t given her too much thought, and for the roughing out of Frank’s story she was just a shell. She was “just kinda there” in the beginning, and then separated from him after Big Stuff Happens.

Now, the Big Stuff is none other than the primary motivation for Frank to complete the story. It’s the Major Wrong that he has to right. But it didn’t involve Lucille much. Frank gets isolated for a little while… which is where the seriousness of the problem hits him, and where his character starts to evolve a little.

Meanwhile, Lucille is just twiddling her thumbs wondering where Frank is…

But that’s boring.

Yet I just couldn’t think of what to do with her. I didn’t want her milling about, biding her time. I’d thought maybe about having her grow and evolve a little on her own, and maybe be changed or different when Frank reunited with her–to the point that they just didn’t get along anymore, and went their separate ways.

But all of this stank too much of been-there-done-that domestic drama, or something you’d see on the Lifetime channel. No thanks.

So I was seriously stuck. It’s a bit hard to explain in hindsight why I was stuck, but it had to do with the way I was looking at the whole problem. My solution actually came from an interesting angle.

Bear with me for a brief aside.

I’ve never been much of a comic book fan. Sue me. While I enjoy the Superman movies, and I can enjoy superhero movies like X-men, it doesn’t exactly tickle me with delight. I’m not thrilled by fantasy characters with mysterious or contrived super powers. Superheroes fall more into the generic fantasy category for me. I like there to be reasons and explanations for everything, sometimes to a fault. You could say I’m too rational of a person, if there is such a thing.

So I don’t appreciate a lot of the gobbleteegook that is the comic book arena as a medium.

The other day I was in Deep Ellum, the trendy bar and night club area of downtown Dallas. My wife and I ate at bar called Fat Ted’s. There was a mural on the wall that was a 1940s or 1950s comic book called Detective. I’m not sure if that’s a real comic or not, but it looked real enough to me.

It depicted a car load of either detectives or thugs (not really sure) brandishing weapons towards a waitress on rollerskates at one of those oldsk00l drive-throughs.

Aside from the fact it was a carload of guys threatening this poor waitress, there was something about the mural that struck me. Sexist or not, right or wrong, the mural had style.

Although not a huge comic fan I’ve read a couple graphic novels, including Sin City which I generally like. The movie oozed style as well. Fluff Style, if you will… the style is just there in excess and doesn’t serve any particular purpose… which doesn’t say much for substance, but it’s style nonetheless. Attitude.

So I thought to myself “Forget superhero crap… where are THESE comics?” You know, the hardcore gritty comics. Not that superhero magical mystical power stupidity. Maybe what I’ve missed out on in the comic book world is the Real McCoy, the grit, the dirt, the grime… the realism. The brutality. The Good Stuff.

After doing some searches online and asking some coworkers I hit upon paydirt: Transmetropolitan, Preacher, 100 Bullets.

There is some seriously sick stuff in these comics. Some of the things the characters go through is either really bizarre, or really twisted, or both.

While not exactly 1950s true crime comics they had a certain amount of realism while providing a darker edge. Exactly what I was looking for…

And then it hit me. BAM!

The problem with my character Lucille wasn’t necessarily to do with just picking something for her to do while Frank was away… the solution was more stylistic.

Something really awful needs to happen to her. Not just a minor setback, mind you. She needs to get destroyed, and go through her own character arc, her own development. But what’s strong enough to do that?

The villainous Peter has to throw her to the wolves. She has to be fed into the machinery of vice… abandoned to animalistic impulses and all sorts of terrible things. And not just subjected to them, but forced to stay in a dark gruesome psychological place until Frank returns or she can escape. Only then can her transformation into a proper Hero for her own stories be complete.

Bingo! Bammo! Golden.

And so the solution to this particular problem came from a synthesis, a merging of separate ideas. For me it was an unlikely place–comics.

This illustrates the need for creative people to seek out fresh things, new things, things they haven’t examined before. You can’t synthesize without proper Input. And not just the same old humdrum Input will do… you’ve got to find something different or new.

Abandoned your usual sources!