Photo by cottonbro studio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/woman-sitting-on-the-floor-near-a-couch-10496653/
I couldn’t help but follow up my recent series on redemption, villain, and leader-in-decline posts with a list of worthy revenge stories both in print and on the screen. There are many, and quite a few overlap between mediums. A handful of titles legitimately belong to two categories.
You can also watch my recent YouTube Video on revenge stories to hear more about my thoughts on why we love them and how they serve us.
And if you can think of any titles I’ve missed, please leave them in the comments, and I’ll add them to the list.
NOTE: The headings used to group the titles are based on the event that happened to bring about the desire for revenge.
PART A — THE FILM LIST, TAGGED FOR PROSE ORIGINS
I. Family Murder / Murder of Loved Ones
*The Count of Monte Cristo* (1934, 2002) Novel — Alexandre Dumas, 1844
*Death Wish* (1974) Novel — Brian Garfield, 1972
*The Crow* (1994) Graphic novel — James O’Barr
*Rolling Thunder* (1977)
*Mad Max* (1979)
*Once Upon a Time in the West* (1968)
*John Wick* (2014–)
*Blue Ruin* (2013)
*The Revenant* (2015) Novel — Michael Punke, 2002
*Mandy* (2018)
*Peppermint* (2018)
*Law Abiding Citizen* (2009)
*A History of Violence* (2005) Graphic novel — John Wagner & Vince Locke
*The Nightingale* (2018)
*A Prophet* (2009)
*I Saw the Devil* (2010)
*Rambo: Last Blood* — character originated in David Morrell’s novel *First Blood* (1972), though this installment is an original story
II. Rape / Sexual Assault
*I Spit on Your Grave* (1978)
*The Last House on the Left* (1972) — inspired by Bergman’s *The Virgin Spring*, itself drawn from a medieval Swedish ballad, not a novel
*No Country for Old Men* (2007) Novel — Cormac McCarthy, 2005
*Michael Clayton* (2007)
XIII. Quiet, Devastating, Slow-Burn Revenge
*Blue Ruin* — see above
*The Assassination of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford* (2007) Novel — Ron Hansen, 1983
*Burning* (2018) Short story — Haruki Murakami’s “Barn Burning”
*Cold Fish* (2010) — inspired by a real Japanese murder case, not a novel
*A Simple Plan* (1998) Novel — Scott Smith, 1993
PART B — PROSE-ONLY: REVENGE NOVELS WITHOUT (or beyond) THEIR FILMS
Organized in the same taxonomy. These either have no major adaptation, or the novel’s reputation/structure stands well apart from any film version.
I. Family Murder / Murder of Loved Ones
***The Count of Monte Cristo*** — Alexandre Dumas (the urtext; worth treating as primary source material in its own right, not just “the book the movie is based on”)
***Gone Girl*** — Gillian Flynn (marital betrayal as the “murder” of a self; revenge is psychological, not physical)
***Wuthering Heights*** — Emily Brontë (Heathcliff’s lifelong campaign against two families is one of literature’s purest slow-burn revenge structures)
II. Betrayal / Framing / Moral Reckoning
***The Talented Mr. Ripley*** — Patricia Highsmith (inverted revenge — the wronged party is barely visible; Ripley enacts a kind of preemptive vengeance against his own exclusion)
***Rebecca*** — Daphne du Maurier (the dead first wife’s quiet, posthumous revenge on the household that replaced her)
III. Rape / Sexual Assault
***Speak*** — Laurie Halse Anderson (revenge reframed as reclamation of voice rather than violence — useful counterpoint for your “soft political” framing)
***A Vine in the Blood*** is niche; better international entries: ***The Vegetarian*** — Han Kang (bodily refusal as a quiet act of revolt against a controlling family structure)
IV. Bullying / Humiliation / Social Cruelty
***Carrie*** — Stephen King (again — the novel’s epistolary structure does something the films can’t: it frames Carrie’s revenge as already-historical disaster reportage, which changes the moral temperature considerably)
***We Need to Talk About Kevin*** — Lionel Shriver (revenge turned inside out — not enacted by the wronged party but inflicted upon one)
V. Systemic Oppression / State Violence
***V for Vendetta*** — Alan Moore & David Lloyd (graphic novel; arguably more political and less romantic than the film)
***The Handmaid’s Tale*** — Margaret Atwood (revenge is mostly deferred/implied — useful for discussing restraint as a craft choice)
VI. Moral / Philosophical Revenge
***Crime and Punishment*** — Fyodor Dostoevsky (technically inverted — a meditation on whether self-appointed justice corrodes the self that administers it; pairs beautifully with *Unforgiven*)
***No Country for Old Men*** — Cormac McCarthy (the novel is colder and more nihilistic than the film; Anton Chigurh is revenge-logic stripped of any moral frame at all)
VII. Quiet, Slow-Burn Revenge
***The Count of Monte Cristo*** (again, it really does belong in two drawers)
***My Sister, the Serial Killer*** — Oyinkan Braithwaite (revenge as inherited family pattern, delivered in a dry, darkly comic register)
Photo by cottonbro studio: https://www.pexels.com/photo/portrait-of-a-man-looking-up-7885471/
Redemption has been on my mind a lot lately. I love a good redemption story, and I’ve been thinking about why that is.
This has, in part, come to mind and stayed, because of the story unfolding in Maine around Democrat Graham Platner’s senatorial campaign. At this writing, he has just won the primary against Janet Mills and will go up against Republican Susan Collins for the senate seat.
Platner’s story is a messy one, and it led me to discuss the way we think about redemption, especially in a volatile political climate over on my YouTube channel.
I talk about that and three of the stories presented below—Beloved, Shawshank Redemption, and One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest. Please go have a watch, and leave me a comment over there about your thoughts. And if I’ve omitted a worthy redemption story below, let me know, and I’ll add it to the list.
NOVELS
Crime and Punishment— Fyodor Dostoevsky
Lead character: Raskolnikov
A murderer who convinces himself crime is justified by intellectual superiority. His redemption is excruciating — not a clean conversion but a slow psychological collapse into confession and moral reckoning. Dostoevsky makes his self-deception completely legible.
Les Misérables— Victor Hugo
Lead character: Jean Valjean
His arc is the archetype: a bitter ex-convict undone by a single act of unexpected grace (the bishop’s candlesticks). His redemption is never finished — he spends the novel quietly paying it forward under an assumed name, always one step from being reclaimed by his past.
A Tale of Two Cities — Charles Dickens
Lead character: Sydney Carton
A dissolute, self-loathing lawyer who finds meaning only at the moment he sacrifices his life for another. His redemption is entirely self-immolating — he gains nothing except the knowledge that it matters.
The Brothers Karamazov — Fyodor Dostoevsky
Lead character: Dmitri Karamazov
Passionate, impulsive, and morally chaotic. Wrongly convicted, he finds genuine spiritual transformation in suffering — not despite the injustice but because of it. His arc suggests redemption has nothing to do with deserving it.
East of Eden — John Steinbeck
Lead character: Cal Trask
Haunted by the belief he has inherited evil from his mother, his arc turns on the word ‘timshel’ (thou mayest) — the idea that choice, not fate, determines who we become.
The Scarlet Letter — Nathaniel Hawthorne
Lead character: Arthur Dimmesdale
His sin is hidden; his suffering interior and self-inflicted. His redemption comes through public confession — delayed, painful, and fatal. He is the character who cannot live with a lie even while living it.
Middlemarch — George Eliot
Lead character: Bulstrode
A hypocritical, self-righteous banker undone by a past crime. George Eliot refuses easy condemnation — we watch his humiliation and the small gestures toward making it right with something like pity.
The Picture of Dorian Gray — Oscar Wilde
Lead character: Dorian Gray
Remarkable because redemption fails. Dorian cannot escape the moral weight of his portrait. Wilde constructs a character whose conscience is externalised and finally destroys him — an anti-redemption arc that defines the genre by inversion.
Atonement — Ian McEwan
Lead character: Briony Tallis
The crime is a false accusation made in childhood. The entire novel is the attempt to write atonement — but Briony comes to understand that some acts cannot be undone, only witnessed. McEwan makes her redemption structurally impossible and yet earnest.
The Kite Runner — Khaled Hosseini
Lead character: Amir
His betrayal of Hassan is an act of cowardice, not malice, which makes it harder to forgive than deliberate evil. His eventual return to Afghanistan is not triumphant — it is limping, costly, and incomplete. That incompleteness is the point.
A Christmas Carol — Charles Dickens
Lead character: Ebenezer Scrooge
The most compressed redemption arc in English literature. His transformation is genuinely warm — Dickens doesn’t punish him, he thaws him. The ghosts give him something rare: the ability to see himself from outside.
The Count of Monte Cristo — Alexandre Dumas
Lead character: Edmond Dantès
His arc complicates redemption by running it through revenge. He pursues justice so meticulously it becomes a new moral prison. The novel asks whether vengeance and redemption can coexist — and eventually answers no.
Invisible Man — Ralph Ellison
Lead character: The unnamed narrator
Redemption here is from false consciousness — the narrator must shed every identity projected onto him by white society and by Black political movements before he can see himself clearly. A deeply American arc.
The Remains of the Day — Kazuo Ishiguro
Lead character: Stevens the butler
His redemption never quite arrives — he has sacrificed love and moral integrity for professional dignity, and only sees it clearly when it is too late to change. Ishiguro’s refusal to grant him release is devastating.
Beloved — Toni Morrison
Lead character: Sethe
Morrison refuses the sentimental redemption arc. Sethe’s act of killing her own child to protect her from slavery is not something narrative closure can heal. Her arc is about learning to live inside history rather than being consumed by it.
Notes from Underground — Fyodor Dostoevsky
Lead character: The Underground Man
An anti-redemption character who articulates every reason why people resist being saved. His self-loathing is so rigorous it becomes philosophically precise — Dostoevsky’s most uncomfortable protagonist.
Tess of the d’Urbervilles — Thomas Hardy
Lead character: Tess Durbeyfield
What distinguishes Tess is that she requires no redemption — the world demands it of her anyway. Hardy constructs a character of complete moral innocence destroyed by a society that insists she is fallen.
The Grapes of Wrath — John Steinbeck
Lead character: Tom Joad
Tom’s arc moves from selfish survival instinct toward collective conscience. His farewell speech — ‘I’ll be there’ — is one of literature’s clearest statements about individual redemption becoming something larger than the self.
NOVELS ADAPTED TO FILM
Les Misérables (Hugo → film 1935, 1998, 2012)
Lead character: Jean Valjean
On film, the role requires conveying decades of quiet moral labor. Hugh Jackman’s 2012 version captures the way Valjean’s goodness costs him everything publicly while giving him everything privately.
A Christmas Carol (Dickens → numerous adaptations)
Lead character: Ebenezer Scrooge
The theatrical versions emphasise the comic warmth of Scrooge’s transformation. Alastair Sim’s 1951 version remains the gold standard — he plays both the cruelty and the joy as expressions of the same enormous personality.
Crime and Punishment (Dostoevsky → multiple adaptations)
Lead character: Raskolnikov
Notoriously difficult to adapt because the drama is interior. The most successful versions lean into his unreliability as a narrator — we are never fully inside his logic.
The Kite Runner (Hosseini → film 2007)
Lead character: Amir
The film compresses the novel’s long guilt incubation. What it does well is keep Amir sympathetic without excusing him — we never forget what he failed to do.
A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens → film 1935, 1958)
Lead character: Sydney Carton
Ronald Colman’s 1935 performance set the template — a man whose charm masks contempt for himself. The closing scaffold scene is one of cinema’s great moments of sacrificial grace.
East of Eden (Steinbeck → film 1955)
Lead character: Cal Trask
James Dean made Cal the defining cinematic portrait of adolescent moral confusion — desperate for paternal love, terrified he is fundamentally bad. His final act of care toward his paralysed father is heartbreaking because it may be too late.
The Count of Monte Cristo (Dumas → film 1934, 2002)
Lead character: Edmond Dantès
Film adaptations tend to simplify the revenge-vs-redemption tension. Jim Caviezel’s 2002 version leans into the cost of hatred — he arrives at mercy not because he is good, but because vengeance left him empty.
Atonement (McEwan → film 2007)
Lead character: Briony Tallis
Saoirse Ronan (younger) and Vanessa Redgrave (older) together play the entire arc across a lifetime. The film’s final revelation — that Briony has rewritten the ending she couldn’t give in life — makes the structure itself the act of atonement.
The Remains of the Day (Ishiguro → film 1993)
Lead character: Stevens
Anthony Hopkins gives a masterclass in repression. Every suppressed feeling is visible in the set of his jaw. The film is almost unbearable in its portrayal of a man who chose duty over love and can only half-admit he chose wrong.
Beloved (Morrison → film 1998)
Lead character: Sethe
Oprah Winfrey’s performance is monumental — physically and emotionally massive. The film’s difficulty is Morrison’s difficulty: it refuses catharsis.
The Grapes of Wrath (Steinbeck → film 1940)
Lead character: Tom Joad
Henry Fonda’s Tom is leaner than the novel’s — but the farewell speech lands with complete conviction. John Ford strips the story to its moral skeleton.
Schindler’s List (Keneally → film 1993)
Lead character: Oskar Schindler
Liam Neeson plays a war profiteer whose redemption arc is the least planned in cinema — he slides into saving lives the way he slid into exploiting them. His final breakdown (‘I could have got more’) is the most wrenching admission in Holocaust cinema.
One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest (Kesey → film 1975)
Lead character: R.P. McMurphy
McMurphy doesn’t redeem himself in a conventional sense — he redeems others by refusing to be broken. Jack Nicholson plays him as pure charismatic life force; his sacrifice gives Chief Bromden his freedom.
The Shawshank Redemption (King → film 1994)
Lead character: Andy Dufresne / Red
Two complementary arcs: Andy’s patient, invisible resistance to institutional dehumanisation, and Red’s surrender to hope after decades of cynicism. The film makes the case that hope itself is the redemptive act.
To Kill a Mockingbird (Lee → film 1962)
Lead character: Atticus Finch / Boo Radley
Boo’s arc is the quieter of the two — years of captivity and stigma resolved in a single act of protection. Gregory Peck’s Atticus is the moral centre; Boo is the unexpected proof that the world contains more goodness than appearances suggest.
The Secret in Their Eyes (Sacheri → film 2009)
Lead character: Benjamín Espósito
A retired detective reopening a decades-old case becomes a reckoning with his own failures of courage — professional and romantic. The film’s structure, circling back on itself, mirrors how guilt and love both refuse to age.
Papillon (Charrière → film 1973, 2017)
Lead character: Henri ‘Papillon’ Charrière
Steve McQueen’s physicality in the 1973 film carries the whole arc — pure stubborn will refusing to be extinguished. Redemption here is simply surviving with your self intact.
The Mission (Bolt → film 1986)
Lead character: Rodrigo Mendoza
A slave trader who becomes a Jesuit lay brother — Robert De Niro drags a bag of armour up a cliff face as penance in one of cinema’s most literal depictions of the weight of guilt.
FILMS
Gran Torino (2008)
Lead character: Walt Kowalski
Clint Eastwood as a racist Korean War veteran who gradually bonds with his Hmong neighbours. His arc is a slow dismantling of prejudice — and ends in a self-sacrifice that explicitly echoes Christ imagery. Stark and unsentimentalised.
The Dark Knight (2008)
Lead character: Harvey Dent / Bruce Wayne
Harvey Dent’s fall is the film’s real tragedy — a genuine good man destroyed by grief and the logic of vengeance. Batman’s arc is about accepting that heroism requires absorbing injustice without becoming it.
Magnolia (1999)
Lead character: Frank T.J. Mackey / Earl Partridge
Paul Thomas Anderson runs multiple redemption arcs simultaneously. Frank (Tom Cruise) is the most bravura — a misogynist self-help guru forced to confront his dying father and the performance of masculinity he has built his life around.
Good Will Hunting (1997)
Lead character: Will Hunting
A genius who uses intelligence as armour against intimacy. Robin Williams’ therapist cracks him not through technique but through shared vulnerability. The arc is about allowing yourself to be known — which is harder than any trauma.
American History X (1998)
Lead character: Derek Vinyard
Edward Norton’s performance is fierce: a neo-Nazi whose prison experience forces genuine confrontation with his ideology. The film is complicated by its tragic ending — redemption saved Derek but couldn’t save what he had already set in motion.
Unforgiven (1992)
Lead character: William Munny
Eastwood’s anti-western meditates on whether a violent man can ever truly leave violence behind. The answer is no — but the film treats that honestly, without nihilism. Munny is the Western hero who admits what Western heroes actually did.
Calvary (2014)
Lead character: Father James
A good priest receives a death threat as punishment for the Church’s institutional crimes. His arc is about choosing to stay — to offer himself as witness and expiation for evil he didn’t commit. Brendan Gleeson is extraordinary.
The Verdict (1982)
Lead character: Frank Galvin
Paul Newman as a washed-up, alcoholic lawyer who refuses a settlement and fights a medical negligence case on principle. The arc is about recovering professional and personal integrity — small-scale, completely convincing.
Tender Mercies (1983)
Lead character: Mac Sledge
Robert Duvall (Oscar-winning) as a country singer hitting rock bottom in a Texas motel. The film is spare, almost silent about his internal transformation — the change is visible only in action, never explained.
Tsotsi (2005)
Lead character: Tsotsi
A South African gang leader accidentally takes a baby from a carjacking victim. The infant’s helplessness reawakens something in him he had entirely suppressed. Simple premise executed with rare emotional honesty.
A Prophet (2009)
Lead character: Malik El Djebena
This one complicates redemption deliberately — Malik’s arc is also a rise through criminality. What redeems him is not virtue but self-determination: he refuses to be anyone’s instrument.
Fruitvale Station (2013)
Lead character: Oscar Grant
The film reconstructs the last day of Oscar Grant’s life. Redemption here is retrospective — we watch a young man making small repairs to his relationships just before his death. Ryan Coogler refuses sentimentality without refusing compassion.
A Beautiful Mind (2001)
Lead character: John Nash
The arc is about learning to live alongside illness rather than being erased by it. Nash’s redemption is cognitive and relational — choosing to distrust his own perceptions and trust the people around him instead.
Ikiru (1952)
Lead character: Kanji Watanabe
Kurosawa’s masterpiece: a terminally ill bureaucrat who has wasted his life on procedure finds meaning in his final months by building a children’s park. The most quietly devastating portrait of wasted time and its partial remedy.
Manchester by the Sea (2016)
Lead character: Lee Chandler
Noteworthy as a film that refuses the redemption arc entirely. Lee cannot forgive himself for accidentally killing his children; the film insists some grief is not redeemable. Casey Affleck’s performance is the most sustained portrayal of dissociation in American cinema.
The Place Beyond the Pines (2012)
Lead character: Luke / AJ
A structural meditation on how fathers pass damage to sons across generations. Luke’s arc ends early; the redemption, partial and hard-won, belongs to the next generation.
Warrior (2011)
Lead character: Tommy Conlon / Brendan Conlon
Two estranged brothers with a shared abusive past. Tom Hardy and Joel Edgerton make the climactic fight an act of involuntary love — brothers who can only reach each other through violence finding a way back to tenderness anyway.
Prisoners (2013)
Lead character: Keller Dover
Hugh Jackman as a father who tortures a suspect in the hunt for his missing daughter. The film watches a good man do monstrous things and asks whether the arc back from that is possible. It leaves the question open.
12 Years a Slave (2013)
Lead character: Solomon Northup
Redemption here is freedom — and the film is clear that freedom required both Solomon’s tenacity and structural help. The moral weight falls on the society that required this arc at all.
Whiplash (2014)
Lead character: Andrew Neiman / Terence Fletcher
Fletcher’s final act is ambiguous redemption — is he giving Andrew the push he needed, or still abusing? The film deliberately refuses to decide. Andrew’s arc is about learning what he is willing to sacrifice and whether it was worth it.
Babette’s Feast (1987)
Lead character: Babette Hersant
A French refugee who spends her entire lottery winnings on a single transcendent meal for a puritanical village. Her redemption is in the giving — the restoration of her art, her dignity, and quietly, the community around her.
Winter’s Bone (2010)
Lead character: Ree Dolly
Ree redeems her family’s honour through sheer tenacity and refusal to be silenced. Jennifer Lawrence’s breakthrough role: a girl who holds the world together by will alone.
An important, symbolic plant from Miranda’s Garden—when the reader meets Crystal and Ray, and when Miranda meets Ray for the first time.
Delicate yet striking, the Colorado Columbine (Aquilegia caerulea) sways in the mountain breeze like a secret waiting to be told. Its pale blue and white petals seem almost too perfect for this world, yet its story reaches far beyond beauty—into the realms of symbolism, healing, and myth.
Love and Faith in a Flower Today, the Colorado Columbine is often seen as a symbol of love and faith. But flowers have a way of wearing different faces through time. In the Victorian language of flowers, Columbine could mean love and faith—or, in another context, betrayal and foolishness. Color, circumstance, and the teller of the tale all shaped its meaning.
Medicine and Caution For centuries, Columbine found its way into herbal medicine for heart conditions, headaches, fevers, and stomach troubles. Yet beauty can be deceiving—Columbine contains toxic compounds, including cyanogenic glycosides, that can be harmful or even deadly in large amounts. This is one bloom that asks for respect and distance when it comes to physical use.
Legends in Bloom Across cultures, the Columbine has been a flower of love:
In Native American traditions, it was sometimes carried as a love charm.
In Greek myth, it’s linked to Aphrodite, the goddess of love.
In Norse stories, it’s tied to Freya, goddess of love and fertility. Each tradition adds a layer, turning the Columbine into a living tapestry of devotion, attraction, and enchantment.
A Final Thought From alpine meadows to the pages of myth, the Colorado Columbine whispers a reminder: beauty can heal, inspire, and captivate—but it always carries its own power, and that power must be met with respect.
This is the last in a series about how to utilize my Writing Through the Body Method™ which uses the chakra system as a practical tool for uncovering a character’s desires, wounds, and motivations. By exploring these psychological foundations, writers are able to portray their characters’ behaviors, reactions, and responses on the page with greater depth and emotional truth.
For example, the Crown (seventh) Chakra rules Spiritual Power and Understanding. The crown relates to the ability to conceive of and create spiritual context for life experiences, which leads to resiliency and bliss. The Crown Chakra says I KNOW.
By considering how your characters connect to their own meaning-making (from the Third Eye Chakra), you’re able to take them through their transformation—their new normal.
Below is a brief explanation of the Crown Chakra, its traits and characteristics, and some ways you might integrate its attributes into your character development.
Seventh Chakra – Crown Chakra Location Top of head
This does not directly apply to your character but is used for visualization purposes when doing certain exercises within the Writing Through the Body™ method, offered here as an FYI.
Primary strengths Faith in inner guidance/trust that overrides fears, mystical/intuitive connections, ability to create and live by a personally chosen belief system, ability to put life’s challenges in a spiritual context, positive attitude, awareness in the divine—whether in a self-proclaimed higher power or within other humans/living entities
This is about how your character responds to situations that call for them to have gained perspective, to be on the other side of their struggle(s) throughout the story.
Primary fears and fearful expressions Disassociation, ‘holier-than-thou’ attitude, spiritual crisis, inability to let go of the past, greed, lack of inspiration, apathy, elitism/superiority
This is where you’re able to see your character’s “full circle” or “transformational” moment. This is where they arrive in a more settled place after having run the gauntlet of the story’s trajectory, have put it in perspective, and are in a position to start living their “new normal.”
_____________________
Writing exercise
Take some time to sit quietly, and think about the aspects of the Crown Chakra as they relate to all your characters.
Write a sketch of a character that may not be materializing as fully as you would like, and answer the questions below as fully and exhaustively as possible.
Tip: Every time you arrive at a new place of understanding or identify a particular behavior or response in your character, ask “why?” Continuing to ask “why?” is how we get to the deep psychology of our characters.
Example: Your protagonist has completed a difficult thing—taken difficult action, spoken out against the powers that be, put themself in physical danger, ended a relationship, etc.
Questions to begin your exercise:
• What is the thing they did?
• How did this inform their understanding of the situation, of themselves, of the world?
• Where does this new-found understanding leave them?
What will they do next—in the next week, the next month, the next year (whether this belongs in the story or not)?
How do you, the writer/author, see them now that you’ve guided them through?
This is the next in a series about how to utilize my Writing Through the Body Method™ which uses the chakra system as a practical tool for uncovering a character’s desires, wounds, and motivations. By exploring these psychological foundations, writers are able to portray their characters’ behaviors, reactions, and responses on the page with greater depth and emotional truth.
For example, the Third Eye (sixth) Chakra rules Mind Power. The third eye relates to the ability to distill wisdom from life experience, clarity about what is best for one’s highest good and joy—it’s about the intuition. The Third Eye Chakra says I SEE.
By considering how your characters connect to their intuition and ability to make meaning of life will give you clues about the ease with which they move through the world and within the story.
Below is a brief explanation of the Third Eye Chakra, its traits and characteristics, and some ways you might integrate its attributes into your character development.
Sixth Chakra – Third Eye Chakra Location Lower forehead, between the eyes
This does not directly apply to your character but is used for visualization purposes when doing certain exercises within the Writing Through the Body™ method, offered here as an FYI.
Primary strengths Strong intellectual abilities/skills, self-acceptance, mental flexibility, ability for objective contemplation, high emotional intelligence, open to wonder
This is about how your character responds to situations that call for them to think beyond the here and now. This is how they make meaning (and have made meaning) of life, and what they do with that understanding.
Primary fears and fearful expressions Fears of one’s shadow side/looking within, inability to self-reflect or identify illusion, pushing oneself to extremes, poor intuition/concentration, fear of unknown, judgmental/overly analytical, mental fog/overwhelm
This is where you’re able to start seeing your character respond in ways that may not make sense to them, as if they’re driven by something they don’t see or understand.
_____________________
Writing exercise
Take some time to sit quietly, and think about the aspects of the Third Eye Chakra as they relate to all your characters.
Write a sketch of a character that may not be materializing as fully as you would like, and answer the questions below as fully and exhaustively as possible.
Tip: Every time you arrive at a new place of understanding or identify a particular behavior or response in your character, ask “why?” Continuing to ask “why?” is how we get to the deep psychology of our characters.
Example: Your protagonist has just done something they are not proud of. There is one person in the world they trust—living or dead. Write a letter from your character to their trusted person.
Questions to begin your exercise:
• What is the thing they did?
• When did they do it? Was it recent or many years ago… something they’ve been carrying around, like a dead weight?
• What has moved them to disclose this now?
• What happens—both within them and in their life—after the disclosure?
