Karpman Triangle or Christian Allegory?

I recently read a post talking about “Karpman’s drama triangle” – a theory that story characters arrange themselves into Hero, Victim, or Villain roles – and how this had a negative effect on stories and society. (It’s under Point 8.)

The post writer suggested making sure all characters had “agency” – or meaningful choice – within the story. This is important, as far as it goes…personal responsibility for actions is very important.

However, when I first heard her explain “Karpman’s drama triangle”, I said to myself, “Isn’t that exactly what we see in the Bible? Don’t stories follow this pattern so often because we’re resonating with the eternal story of creation?”

The Triangle of History

This triangle, as I understood it, talked about how someone would require rescuing, so someone else would rise to rescue him.

This is what we see in the Bible.Karpman Triangle or Christian Allegory? — Kimia Wood

We are in trouble. Deep trouble. Classic damsel-in-distress type stuff.

We (humanity) were born into a perfect world…but then the Villain struck! Yep – us, again.

(I didn’t say “Satan”, because that gives him too much cred. The world didn’t break because Satan disobeyed God…the whole universe broke because Adam disobeyed God! Thanks, Great-Granddad…)

So here we are (each individual human being), playing the Villain role (taking up arms against God and hurting things wherever we go) and the Victim role (hurting ourselves at every turn, and totally helpless to fix ourselves).

There’s nothing we can do to change this state of affairs. Nada. Trust me, humans have been trying for thousands upon thousands of years. We can’t patch up our relationship with God, and we can’t free ourselves from our own evil desires…just like addiction.

The whole human race is addicted to badness.

Enter: the Hero! Jesus. Son of God. Totally awesome, Lawful Good, and kick-butt (can I say that?!).

He humbled Himself, went through the famous “Dark Night of the Soul“, all that classic Hero stuff…literally died. Was dead for three days.

Then? Happily ever after! Jesus kicked death in the face and came alive again!

With the “dragon” slain, the “prince” “rode up on his horse” and asked the “damsel” if she would marry him!

So…will you say “I do”?

It’s not just the overarching story of salvation, either.

God cares about individual widows, too. Check out Deuteronomy 14 (yes Deuteronomy):

God is telling Israel about tithing – giving a tenth of your grain, your fruit, your wine, your produce to God so you remember that He gave you everything.

Then God tells them, every three years pile the tithe food in the middle of the city and let the widows, orphans, and foreigners (with no land inheritance, family network, etc.) eat their fill from it (Deut. 14:28-29).

See? Yes, God cares about rescuing his Church (Bride)…but He also cares about the “helpless” widows and orphans – the “victims” of unavoidable tragedy who don’t have the resources to help themselves.

He cares, and that’s why He commands His people to act as “heroes” in His name, extending aid to those worse off than ourselves.

Want an example from the New Testament? How about James 1:27? James’ theme is that talking the talk is worthless unless you walk the walk. (You say you believe in God? Super. The demons believe the same thing – and have the sense to be afraid of Him! Js. 2:19.)

That’s why James points out that God wants us to act out the faith we say we have by: being a “hero” to the “helpless”…the weak, tired, and alone. The “victims” of this sin-scorched world. (The “villain” being: ourselves again.)

Back to the Psychologists

Karpman wasn’t talking about God, though. He was a psychologist, trying to explain human relationships and human behavior through “Science!”.

And he’s right about one thing. When human beings try to mimic the role of God (Hero), we mess even that up.

Karpman and his friends called it things like “encouraging dependency”, “ignoring their own problems by focusing on helping others”, “taking advantage of the rescuer”, “perpetuating the victim’s feelings of helplessness”, and other things.

All of which is trying to turn something organic (a relationship) into something algorithmic (turning human interactions into a series of equations – which they’re not).

I think the Bible says it all much more succinctly:

So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food…she took some and ate, and gave to her husband, and he ate. And the eyes of both were opened, and they saw that they were naked. (Gen. 3: 6-7)

There is none righteous – no, not one! No one understands…no one seeks for God! (Rom. 3: 10-11)

For all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God and are justified freely by His grace which is ours in Christ Jesus! (see Rom. 3: 21-24)

Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth… (Rev. 21: 1)

Back to the Story Authors

Karpman Triange or Christian Allegory? — Kimia Wood

I think I’ve figured out why I get all swoony over the Master Chief and Zavala. Because they are quintessential heroes – the definitive “good guys” – and in that way they mimic my own dear King Jesus.

So, I will proudly write stories about heroes rescuing…people who need rescuing. But I agree with the original poster that “character agency” is also very important.

After all, we got ourselves in this mess. No sneaky Devil forced us off the cliff of our own desires! We raced there all on our own, because we wanted what we couldn’t possibly have: to be God.

It also makes sense that Character Agency is important because God gave it to us! When a story denies characters agency, or denies them the reality of making bad choices or choices that matter, the story falls flat…because we instinctively know it doesn’t line up with our real experiences.

God doesn’t let us write the story, though. He is the Author of this interactive, choose-your-own-adventure we call “life”! We participate, but only within the bounds that He allows (Job 1:12, 2:6).

And this is where the sovereignty of God (fancy, church-word for “God’s the boss-man”) and free-will (not-so-fancy church-word for “we get a choice”) come together and hug and all the theologians go, “But I thought you two weren’t speaking to each other!”

Yes – God is totally in charge. AND – yes, each individual human being gets a choice in how their life will go.

How does that work? God hasn’t explained in detail…probably because our brains would explode if we tried to understand.

Just trust God that it works.

And keep trying to write stories and show how FULLY AWESOME He is…because that’s what it’s all about, m’kay?


Karpman Triangle or Christian Allegory? — Kimia WoodKimia Wood currently lives somewhere in the American midwest, bracing for the collapse of society by knitting, baking, writing, hobby-farming, and reading as much Twitter as possible before the web goes dark.

Subscribe to the mailing list for a FREE e-copy of her post-apocalyptic adventure Soldier, plus periodic updates on her latest reading and writing exploits!

“Save the Cat” by Blake Snyder

"Save the Cat" by Blake Snyder — Kimia Wood As Mr. Snyder says in his prologue, “Why do we need another book about writing?” Apparently even in 2005 when he first published Save the Cat, you couldn’t swing a cat without hitting an eager, helpful guru determined to instruct young writer hopefuls in his way to plot, write, and sell.

So what makes Save the Cat any different, and why has it taken the industry by storm to be required reading for newbies and professionals alike?

I decided it was time to buy it and find out. Continue reading

White Mesa Hiatus + New Work-in-Progress

Sometimes You Need Something New

I typed the first words of the first scene of Book 1 in the White Mesa Chronicles on April 2, 2015. That day we were moving all the stuff out of our house (into Grandpa’s basement), and I sat on the carpet in the bedroom I grew up in to get in a few words amidst all the chaos. (Why? ‘Cause that’s the carpet where I nestled on the floor in the corner and thrashed out the lion’s share of Hayes and Hayes.)

White Mesa has been a great journey, trying to look forward to what life will be like after the U.S.A.’s death throes. I (with help from my family) got to construct an entire world, and populate it with people with motivations and thought-patterns different from my own!

When you get the cover done before writing the actual book…

But it’s time to move on.

I decided this after typing 1 and 3/4 first-drafts of Book 6: Feral. That’s 53,290 words of a NaNoWriMo draft, plus 27,490 words of a fresh “blind draft”. I found myself going days or weeks without looking at the file, and whenever I did sit down to work I had to drag the words out. I figured such uninspired dreck might well give readers the same sense of lethargy that it gave me…

So, we folded it up and put it on the shelf. Books 1 through 4 are out for your reading pleasure, and Book 5 has good bones. After a breath of fresh air, and turning my mind to new projects, I’ll be able to finish the last three books with more energy…more passion…more joy.

So What “New Project” Is Next?

I’m currently story-boarding the story of a perfectionist assassin who realizes he’s been given corrupt orders.

Yes, sweet little churchy Kimia is writing about an assassin.

I am the girl who brutally poisoned one of my leads in Sons of the King, and gave a teenage boy an OD in Hayes and Hayes. But it probably won’t be as bad as all that.

This is how I’m plotting it:

Winds of Change — Kimia Wood

Image from Pixabay

But this is probably how I’ll write it:

Winds of Change — Kimia Wood

Image from Pixabay

I once wrote a short story about ritualistic human sacrifice. Know how my dad responded? “Cute.” Yes, “cute”!

So despite my best efforts to be “gritty” and “realistic”, I doubt my style will be much different from the up-beat, family-oriented narrative you’ve come to know and expect from Hayes and Hayes to Renegade.

What’s this New Story Actually About?

Well, check out this first draft blurb and see what you think! 😊 (Then, come back when it’s actually written and find out how different it is from what we planned!)

Eric likes his job. Why not? He’s very good at it.

Get in. Don’t be seen. Dispatch the target. Exit. No collateral damage or stray casualties.

Sure, he’s killing people; but they’re bad people. Someone has to stop them and protect the rest of society. And with his amplified abilities, his agency has a track record of always taking out the right targets – and no one else.

Until the night he follows his tactical Heads-Up into a room…and discovers his target is a seven-year-old boy.

As his faith in the system crumbles, his protests to his handler yield no answers. This is the correct target…well, somebody’s target.

Eric aborts the mission – and finds everyone he used to work with shooting at him.

He was always one of the “good guys”. What’s going on? He’s determined to keep protecting the innocent…but can he?

And will he live long enough to try?


Kimia WoodKimia Wood lives with her family somewhere in the American midwest, bracing for the collapse of society by knitting, baking, writing, hobby-farming, and reading as much Twitter as possible before the web goes dark.

Subscribe to the mailing list for a free copy of her post-apocalyptic novella Soldier, plus updates on her latest projects and other cool stuff whenever we think of other cool stuff.

“The Collins Case” by Julie C. Gilbert

"The Collins Case" by Julie C. Gilbert — Kimia Wood — Christian Despite having a “Mystery/Thriller” cover and blurb, this book is actually a “Christian/Inspirational” story. If I had known better what to expect, and if the pacing had moved faster, I might have enjoyed this much more.

Slow Start

The story is ham-strung from the very beginning, where for the first chapter and a half, the only conflict is that Rachel Collins is unequally yoked – married to an unbeliever.

The scenes of the “happy little family” living their lives and unaware of the calamity awaiting them is a classic writer move to get readers to connect to the characters. Unfortunately, I had recently read the blurb and knew they got kidnapped – and I was aware of the author-ly tricks at work – and so was very un-invested.

If I was advising the author, I would suggest beginning with Mr. Collins coming home and discovering melted groceries on the counter, his wife’s car in the garage, her phone on the counter, and his family nowhere to be found. (This scene already exists, but is sapped of tension since we’ve already witnessed his family be snatched.) This kind of scenario is visceral enough to connect with readers without the lead-up…a lead-up that lost me before the plot even began. Continue reading

Books 3 and 4—White Mesa!

The post-apocalyptic saga continues with the launch of books 3 and 4 this past week! Even if you haven’t read the first two books yet, you can still enjoy these adventures as Ben and Ricco face their own unique struggles in this harsh world.

(Scroll to the bottom for a peak at Gladiator: Chapter 1! Then find them at your favorite retailer, and in your favorite format!)

Books 3 and 4—White Mesa — Kimia WoodGladiator

Ben McConnell has heard all about the New Republic – the rising city-state that plays fast and loose with the deadly z-germ parasite.

Desperate to know more about their medicine and the program that spreads it, he slips into the city to recover a sample for White Mesa’s doctors.

Tommy Thaxton worries about Ben…but then, he worries about everything. Then Ben is captured, and he finds his concern well-founded.
When the White Mesa security council deems a rescue attempt too risky, it’s up to Tommy and a couple friends to face the dangers of the city and get Ben out.

Can Ben survive the fight ring without stooping to the gangs’ standards?

Will Tommy find a way to get Ben home – before he’s killed by the New Republic’s primitive criminal justice?

Amazon* — Amazon Kindle — Lulu** — Smashwords (all digital formats) — Barnes & Noble(paperback)— Kobo

*Part of Kindle MatchBook: buy a paperback copy, get the Kindle version free!

**In case you like paperbacks but want an option other than Amazon!


Renegade — Kimia Wood — White Mesa ChroniclesRenegade

White Mesa seems like a utopia in the midst of a gangland waste.

For Ricco, though, it means rules, chores, and endless lectures on morality from his dad…make that his adoptive dad. After being expelled from the militia and banned from all activities off the family farm, Ricco might only have one choice to make a life of his own: join the New Republic, his homeland’s polar opposite in the city.

How could he imagine the consequences his actions will have for his entire world?

Amazon* — KindleSmashwords — Barnes & Noble (ebook) — Kobo

*Part of Kindle MatchBook: buy a paperback copy, get the Kindle version free!


Gladiator

1–Burglar

The overcast night was dark except for the glow of the New Republic’s border lights, several blocks away. Ben glided from cover to cover down the city street, the echoing of Security patrollers’ boots creating a map of movement in his mind. Up ahead, he spotted the low apartment building he’d been making for, a pool of yellow light marking the torch by the front door.

Ben crept alongside the building, and crouched near a basement window. He could hear a sentry pacing and clearing his throat by the front door.

Inside, the Afflicted workers would be fast asleep in their dormitories, while the few guards watching them would be grouped together playing dice. The medical supplies – the Afflicted’s daily injection – they kept in one of the side rooms.

That much had been easy to learn, especially with the help of Daisy, the girl who lived across from his apartment. She’d been more than willing to show a new immigrant around the New Republic, and had never asked questions about Ben’s eagerness to learn. She did odd jobs and made deliveries for the black market, so her “live and let live” mindset made sense.

Slipping a screw driver out of his pocket, Ben eased it behind the plywood sheet that blocked the ground-level window beside him. It took several moments before it worked free and he leaned it against the wall.

Behind the plywood, two-by-fours spanned the space horizontally. Ben pursed his lips a moment, then rocked back on his hands, gripping the lowest board with his feet.

With a soft crunch, the board yielded. Ben balanced it on his leg for a moment, and pulled it through with his hands, setting it beside the plywood.

For an instant, he thought he detected the thumps of quiet feet on the edge of hearing. It wasn’t the first time tonight, but once again when he scanned his surroundings, he couldn’t pick up any unnatural movement.

Dismissing the sound, Ben rolled onto his stomach and snaked backward. His feet went through the window into the dark space beyond — then his legs, hips, and torso wormed after.

Ben dropped through the opening and crouched against the interior wall, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

He was in the Afflicted barracks – a place his friend Tommy had spent much too much time in. But short of passing alert guards, fences, (sometimes) electrified wire, and raiding the central HQ complex itself, this was his best bet for grabbing a sample of the medicine.

Whatever weird experiment the New Republic was doing with z-germ, Dr. Radcliff and White Mesa needed to know.

After Tommy’s mission in the New Republic – and the sorry wreck he’d been upon his return – the security council had ruled further “interference” with the New Republic too risky. But Dr. Radcliff really, really wanted a sample of the Republic’s medicine, Ben and his family had no objections to a covert mission, Ben had gotten a few months’ vacation from the militia (possibly with the help of General Thaxton), and boom – here he was, in the middle of the enemy’s base.

Assessing his surroundings, Ben found himself in a long, narrow room, tables and benches marching down the middle in orderly rows. Perfect for feeding zombies workers, or the guards who baby-sat them.

Ben glided toward a nearby doorway, ears pricked for any sign he’d been noticed. Muttering and clattering came from behind the door. The dice game.

He moved to the other end of the meal room, where a second door opened into a dark hallway. Feeling his way forward, Ben listened some more. Snoring or breathing sounds came from doors on either hand – the zombies.

How like the apartment building where he himself stayed! That had been a cinch to sneak around in, as well.

Halfway down the hall was a door that must be a broom closet of some kind (from the size and position). Pressing his ear to it, Ben could hear no sounds of breathing or shifting in sleep. When he tried the handle, he found it was locked.

Digging in the cargo pocket of his trousers, Ben fished out a long, skinny bit of metal and knelt beside the lock. Mr. Jones had coached him. He closed his eyes to force himself to work by feel. There wasn’t enough light here for his eyes to be any use.

Easy, gentle, twist…click! Ben grinned and tugged at the door, moving slowly to keep the noise down. The door glided open as the whisper of a creak sighed down the hallway.

Ben held his breath, but nothing in the building stirred. Rising, he squeezed himself through the door and blinked around at the new room.

Total darkness filled the internal space. Wishing he had a flashlight from White Mesa, Ben eased the door almost closed and pulled out a legacy lighter that he’d bought from a black marketer at great expense. The expense was because it had several drips of fuel in it still, perhaps scavenged from some abandoned house on the outskirts of the city, or some sealed apartment that had not yet been cracked by raiders.

With a flick of his thumb, light flashed in the room. Fire danced from the end of the lighter, then vanished as Ben let go of the button.

A table stood against the opposite wall. Two steps brought Ben to it. He had seen cabinets underneath it, but he groped on top for a black bag. Holding the lighter in his off hand, he clicked on his light again and poked in the bag, finding several needles, a few damp clothes – and several screw-top glass jars.

Ben grabbed one of these and held it up in his sputtering light. Tommy had described the substance as clear, and this was clear. He didn’t see any other samples of drugs around, and at the very least he could deliver it to a White Mesa scavenge team and come back to the Republic pending further instructions. The militia officers hadn’t sanctioned his mission, but the teams still stopped by at R6 in case he’d left a message or something.

Shoving his light back into his pocket, and securing the vial of drug, Ben slipped back out the door, pausing to lock it again before continuing down the corridor.

The sounds of the night had not changed. The snores and sighs behind the doors in the hallway continued undisturbed. As Ben pulled himself up through the window he’d entered by and slid the plywood back over it, he smiled.

A presence disturbed his senses. His instincts tingling, he whipped around, his back to the wall. A dark shape lunged at him out of the darkness.

Ben blocked, throwing off the attacker’s grab. Having felt roughly where his opponent’s head should be, Ben threw a punch. A loud thump against the pavement assured him he’d connected.

Footsteps surrounded him. Ben abruptly bent over to drop his profile and made a dash down the road toward the fence-line.

He rammed into someone with his shoulder, and someone else grabbed him around the neck. As he was throwing the second person against the wall of the building, the light of lanterns burst around a nearby corner.

Ben staggered and blinked, struggling to focus as dark figures darted around in front of the bright flames. Men – wearing the blue uniforms of the Security – surrounded him, most hefting the unloaded legacy rifles that served them as clubs and symbols of authority.

“You’re under arrest!”

As Ben was just getting his bearings again, one of the Securitymen threw his arms around him, trying to knock him to the ground.

Ben threw him off, only to trip over another guard and fall to his knees. Someone held a lamp up in his face, forcing him to squint and blink. Four or five others pounced on him, forcing him to the ground and dragging his arms behind him to bind his wrists.

“Ow! What gives?” Ben cried. Since force wasn’t an option anymore, he’d go for bluffing.

“Don’t you know you’re breaking curfew?” demanded a guard from above his head.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Just what were you doing climbing into that building?”

“What building?”

“That one,” answered a Securityman with a captain’s badge. “That we saw you climbing through the window of.”

“Oh, that.” It was time for the cover story, apparently. Tommy and Dr. Radcliff had made sure it was deep enough to be convincing.

“Well, I guess the patrols around here are heavier than I figured,” he chuckled.

“Actually,” muttered one of the guards, “We got a tip.”

A tip? From whom? And about what?

“Hey,” cried one of the Security as they pulled Ben to his feet. “What’s this?”

He unbuttoned the front pocket on Ben’s jacket and pulled out the glass bottle of drug Ben had collected.

The captain’s glare turned ugly. “We’ll see what you have to say about this,” he growled. “Back to HQ.”

The HQ, eh? The infamous inner compound, where – according to Tommy – the Alderman of Security did his mysterious experiments with ferals. What was waiting for Ben now? And how would he get the vial back?

Ben watched the guard hand it to the captain, who pocketed it. Dr. Radcliff needed that sample to find out exactly what the New Republic was doing with their drone program, and what it meant for the number of ferals in the waste.

With Security surrounding him on all sides, they headed toward the middle of the New Republic, and the main government compound. Ben reviewed in his mind what he was to say – Tommy had helped write the cover explanation, so it must be good.

Besides, even if it didn’t work, White Mesa could come get him, as it had come for Tommy. Mr. Grimthorpe and the security council would have conniptions, but whatever. His one worry was what would happen to the drug sample. He needed that, or his mission would be a waste.

Apocalyptic Stories – How, What, and Who

Apocalyptic Stories – How, What, and Who — Kimia Wood

Published in connection with the Indie Author e-Con 2018. Find more here

When you enter “post-apocalyptic” into Amazon’s search bar, you get lots of things. 30,000 results, to be exact.

But hey, there’s always room for one more version of civilization’s death throes, right? What if you want to craft your own apocalypse tale? Where do you need to start?

When eating an elephant or an apocalypse, start with one bite at a time. Continue reading

The Writer’s Vicious Cycle

A brand-new author on the block–
Trying to learn ’bout this “marketing” talk.

She follows the people who seem to know;
They say, “Do like me! Now, GO, GO, GO!”

Except, they’re all talking ’bout “author marketing”,
So she ends up talking to authors marketing.

The Writer's Vicious Cycle — Kimia Wood

Image credit: torrilynn@hubpages

And the readers are stuck with their SPAM and eggs
(When they’d rather be blowing up castles and Dregs).

They think that my book (titled Sons of the King)
Is all like “How TWITTER Can Get You the BLING!”

The Auto-DM allows no escape;
We’re firmly wound up, like with clear packing tape.

What’s my Theme? What’s my Brand? I must find my own Style!
(Oh, well; another post for the “Didn’t Work” pile.)

My genre is novels! But which Fiction shelf?
I just couldn’t find one that quite matched myself.

The Writer's Vicious Cycle — Kimia WoodSo I pushed some books over, down here on the end,
And scribbled my name there — Mark will understand.


Kimia Wood currently lives somewhere in the American midwest, bracing for the collapse of society by baking, knitting, blogging, writing…and other excuses for not gardening.

Subscribe to the mailing list for a FREE copy of her post-apocalyptic adventure Soldier.

Top Ten Relationships

“Top Ten Tuesday” is a list-making meme currently hosted by That Artsy Reader Girl, and the topic for this week is “Love Freebie (Romances, swoons…) etc.

I’m not actually a fan of romances, and I’ve already shared my top “ten” romantic hits-and-misses and the top ten fictional guys I really admire (and would have crushes on if I did the “crush” thing), so to avoid just talking about the Master Chief again I want to share the Top Ten Relationships (friendships, platonic bonds, etc.) that I find most compelling.

1– Frodo and Sam (Lord of the Rings, Tolkien)

Frodo is the meta heroic protagonist who goes from quiet-living aristocrat in an ivory-tower corner of the world, to laying down his life to save all creation.

Sam is the down-home, unassuming, cleaning-the-toilets type who’s there to take care of his employer…and ends up helping to save the world. Continue reading

The Huge Crisis for Christian Romance

The Huge Crisis for Christian Romance

There’s something rotten in Christian fiction. Personally, a romance in a book has to work pretty hard to impress me, but I want to specifically address the authors who claim the name of Christ publicly while including romance in their fiction.

Romance itself is not bad or disrespectful to God; evidence: Ruth, Genesis 24, Ephesians 5 (vs. 25), etc. I’m looking at a few specific issues I’ve noticed in some recent Christian romance novels that I think every sincere follower of the Lord Jesus Christ needs to take seriously. Continue reading

Why Are Bad Book Reviews So Important?

Why Are Bad Book Reviews So Important?

Some people on the internet refuse to write or publish “negative” book reviews. They claim the writing world is a community, that every book took a lot of effort and tears from its author, and to “support” each other, we shouldn’t air our concerns or disappointments with another’s work.

The problem with that is that this community is about more than patting each other on the back, or smiling politely at something we think is sub-par. And we’re more than just writers – the readers who consume our work have a right to receive the best possible product we as writers can supply!

How do “bad book reviews” serve that purpose? Let’s break it down by who is benefitted by critical reviews: the reader, and the author. Continue reading