If you’ve been around the fiction-writing-reference block, you’re probably familiar with the concept of GMC… Goal, Motivation, Conflict.

(If you aren’t, I strongly recommend you go grab a copy of either Debra Dixon’s book of the same name, or a copy of ROCK YOUR PLOT, which touches on it as a foundation for plotting.)

Basically, your protagonists’ GMCs are both the focus of the story and the engine that propels the story forward. It’s what they want, and why they want it, and what’s in the way. Without GMC, odds are good your story is going nowhere fast.

 

You are the protagonist.

Getting the hang of GMC isn’t just useful in stories, as it turns out.

If you’re looking at getting more focused in your writing life, knowing your personal GMC can be a game changer.

Rather than casting about rudderless, or chasing the latest shiny thing, or feeling stuck, going back to your personal GMC can help you clarify what you want, why you want it, and what’s in the way… just like it can for your main characters.

 

External GMC.

There are two kinds of GMC: external and internal.

External, as I teach it, means a tangible goal, clearly defined. It’s a ticked-box to-do. You know when you’ve achieved it.

“Finish writing first draft by September 1” is an external goal.

“Feel better about my writing choices” is not an external goal. (It might be an internal, and we’ll touch on that in a sec.)

Basically, externals are often SMART goals, like they’ve often taught in corporate culture: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, and Time-bound.

Yes, this sounds dry. And it’s easy to grab something out of thin air and then start sprinting towards it, full of enthusiasm… until you hit the wall.

Which brings us to the other side of this equation.

 

Internal GMC.

In fiction, the external GMC is usually the thing on your book description or back cover blurb. It’s the story question. It’s what your readers are rooting for, and it’s very specific.

To have a strong external goal, one that we care about, you need a well crafted, well understood internal goal. That’s what gets the character up in the morning, driven to do something. (Or, conversely, to avoid something, like pain, or feeling insecure, etc.)

 

What do you want?

Take a swing at your GMC. Doesn’t matter which one you start with, but you do need to have an internal and an external.

Let’s say your external goal is “make #1 in my Amazon category” for your next release. By and large, that works. It’s measurable, it’s clearly defined. You might want to check the “achievable” element if you’ve, say, never written or published a book before, but it’s a start.

You’d then look at what your internal goal is. Do you want to be a full time writer, writing for traditional? Just want to self-publish books at your own pace and slow-build an audience in addition to your day job? Film deals and the whole shebang? Just publish one magnum opus and the heck with it? No judgment. You can choose whatever you want.

You do then need to ask why you want that.

Just like any other protagonist, you’ll want to do more than a cursory exploration of this. We don’t want two-dimensions or sloppy, quick explanations so we can “get on to the fun stuff.” Why do you want what you want? You don’t have to tell anyone else, ever. But the more you know, the stronger your motivation and the better equipped you’ll be to pursue the goal.

 

What’s in the way?

You know what you want, and why you want it. You know what’s driving you, as best you can, and how it influences whatever goal you’ve set.

Now… why can’t you get it? What’s stopped you in the past? What do you feel is in the way?

This may seem depressing initially, but it’s easier to deal with conflict when you have an idea of what you’re up against, and most importantly, you can start thinking, protagonist-style, of how to overcome it.

 

The more you know.

There are a number of benefits to this exercise.

From a writing standpoint, the more you think about what makes you tick will actually help you create main characters that are three-dimensional, because you’ll understand what makes them tick, and why they make the choices they do.

From a personal standpoint, it’s a process. You’ll do what Becca Syme calls “Questioning the premise.” Is what you’ve always assumed you’ve wanted really what you want? Are the obstacles in your way as insurmountable as you’ve made them? Is the reason you’re not where you want to be a lack of focus… or is it because you’ve jumped the tracks three scenes back, and you’re pursuing the wrong thing?

 

You can always plan for Q3.

There are six months left in the year, and plenty of time after that. It’s the perfect time for a re-evaluation and a fresh start. Get planning, get noodling, and get writing. I believe in you.