One of my favorite (nerdy) things to do is study Greek and Latin roots and affixes. BOOOOORING! I know. It seems like a snooze-fest to be sure, but it’s actually fascinating once things start clicking. I can promise you my baby ladies will be studying some Latin. A-men.

Take today’s subject: the inciting incident. The root word “cit” means to “call” or “start”, as in to call forth or instigate. So an inciting incident would be an event that sets the proverbial ball in motion; it calls forth a reluctant protagonist into action and creates a conflict. That sounds bad, but it’s actually  good thing.

Of course, we need an example. I’m gonna go with M. Night Shyamalan’s film The Village. It’s one of my favorites and is inspired by Shirley Jackson’s short story “The Lottery”. Don’t worry, though; if you’re not familiar with either–I’ll just go with the basics.

Ivy Walker, played by Bryce Dallas Howard in The Village

The Village takes place in colonial America in a small–you guessed it–village. The action follows two main characters: outspoken Ivy and her love, the shy and socially inept Lucius. Ivy, not being one to wait around for her backward love to pick up the pace of their relationship, decides to take matters into her own hands and proposes marriage to Lucius. It goes something like this:

“When we are married, will you dance with me ?” Girlfriend’s got some serious cojones, no?

Well, Lucius, as much as he loves himself some Ivy, is frustrated she beat him to the punch, saying, “Why must you lead, when I want to lead? If I want to dance, I will ask you to dance. If I want to speak, I will open my mouth and speak. Everyone is forever plaguing me to speak further. Why? What… good is it to tell you you are in my every thought from the time I wake? What good can come from my saying I– I sometimes cannot think clearly, or- or do my work properly? What gain can rise from my telling you… the only time I feel fear as others do, is when I think of you in harm? That is why I am on this porch, Ivy Walker. I fear for your safety above all others. And yes… I will dance with you on our wedding night.”

Sigh. That’s some fine stuff, Mr. Shyamalan, gotta say. Thanks and good night.

It’s actually a done deal right then and there for those two crazy kids as they are now betrothed to be hitched. The old ball and chain. No more raucous nights of drinking out on the prairie for Mr. Lucius and his compadres (not that he has any). The whole village is a twitter with news of their engagement, and everyone is just thrilled…

Almost everybody. There happens to be a friend of both Ivy and Lucius who is not at all down with the news of their betrothal. Seems he’s been carrying a rather large torch for Ivy for some time. (This is an incredibly simplified  description of their characterization and relationships, but it’s got to be in case you’ve never seen this delightful drama. Once you have seen it, you’ll realize how ridiculous the term “delightful” is in this context.) 

So, there’s a bit of an inconvenient love triangle thing going on here. Ivy loves Lucius. Lucius loves Ivy. Noah loves Ivy. Nobody loves Noah, though they’re quite fond of him as a friend. Noah, is not okay with the impending nuptials and decides to take matters into his own hands by stabbing his friend Lucius. 

The end.

Not by a long shot. Ivy discovers her love Lucius bleeding out. Soon, he’s wrapping on death’s door due to infection. No problem, right? Wrong. The doctor needs an antibiotic to treat Lucius, but–wait for it–the village has no such modern conveniences (a little foreshadowing for you there). What’s a lovestruck protagonist to do?

Girlfriend’s gotta go get her guy some good ‘ole “medicines” (a.k.a., antibiotics) from a neighboring town. The journey will be a treacherous one, complete with mythological and deadly creatures. And did I mention our girl Ivy is blind, too? It’s a ginormous poo storm in the making, but Ivy must do it in order to overcome her conflict or problem (Lucius is dying) and meet her goal (saving him from a too-close–and–too-soon–encounter with a fella carrying a scythe), so she can wear her some Vera Wang and get her groove on with her man at the wedding reception. (No, the option of someone going instead of her is not a realistic one; to explain more would TOTALLY ruin the film. Trust.)

While Ivy is quite the admirable heroine, it should be noted here that most of the time our inciting incidents do not create life-threatening conflicts; however, in order to a get an unaware and often reluctant protagonist to be great hero or heroine, sometimes a swift kick to the peaches is required.

Case in point: me. Throughout my twenties I struggled to feel well. I was sick a great deal, all the time, really. This can be very taxing on a person and her spouse–God bless him. Some unfortunate things happened (yada, yada, yada…) which led to an unfortunate diagnosis of the health variety. It’s the kind of diagnosis that doesn’t kill you but doesn’t necessarily make you stronger either. Now, there’s no point in disclosing the illness because, a) it doesn’t affect anyone else and, b) I’m actually doing quite well now–better than ever, in fact. Truthfully, sometimes folks try to make an inciting incident the whole story, and that my friends is ABSOLUTELY NOT the case here. My inciting incident was a scary, nasty, gnarly, wonderful, amazing, changed-my-life kind of gift.

Because it called me into action. I could no longer afford to be asleep, coasting through life. Not truly happy. Not truly sad. Just there, existing in the background and trying to survive. Sometimes there’s a whisper calling us to react and other times, other times it’s a foghorn directly in your ear. The latter visited me a couple years ago, creating a conflict. How I react to that conflict defines me as a protagonist. That conflict created new goals and new missions. Where there was a dessert, there is now a vast oasis. Do I always get it right? Some of the time? Eh. That I don’t know. I only know that I’m at least aware of the conflict and the goals, and I’m actively engaged in trying to … (insert “whatever” here). 

Not all inciting incidents are loud clanging gongs or deafening foghorns, but there is always a call… if we’d only keep an ear to the ground.

As for our girl Ivy, well, you seriously need to get the Shyamalan hookup and rent some of that goodness. As with all good thrillers, there is a twist! at the end. So watch it with the lights on in the afternoon if you’re a wuss like me. 

Maybe that should be a post…”A Wuss Like Me”? Wonder what the root of “wuss” is?