Rogue’s Calling — 01
Creating a Story from a Title or Phrase
This is unquestionably the best story title I’ve ever dreamed up. It’s so good, in fact, that I have never been able to decide exactly what the story should be.
I’ve had more than a few ideas, one or two more autobiographical than others, but to be bluntly honest, I’ve never felt any of them lived up to the promise of the title — there is just so much potential in it, it deserves my very best effort.
And there’s the rub. Or perhaps a lesson in how to self-induce writer’s block. Is it better to hoard a superior idea — or, in this case, a title — or just plug it into the queue of stories germinating in my head? I can’t even answer that, because I have never faced that choice before.
So join me as I try and uncover the tale that will do the title justice. I offer insight into my unruly imagination and perhaps hints into my process for untangling order from chaos, but I promise little else. It may be that by revisiting past ideas and reviewing them together, I might pluck an element here, another there and braid a story worthy of ‘Rogue’s Calling.’ And I might not, but you learn far more from failure than success.
Deconstructing the Title
The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines ‘rogue’ used as an adjective, a noun and a verb. As an adjective, it implies dishonesty, corruption, or defiance. A rogue is synonymous with a worthless scoundrel, a mischevious scamp, or just a sketchy vagrant. Some of these might apply to a possible anti-hero protagonist, others are better applied to an antagonist.
What if the story played off the conflict between a protagonist who was a defiant, mischevious vagrant and a dishonest and corrupt but powerful antagonist? But that’s not the tale I wish to tell.
Where it gets interesting is the use of rogue as a verb. To ‘go rogue’ is to act unexpectedly or independently in ‘an uncontrolled way that is not authorized, normal or expected’ (Merriam-Webster Dictionary). Now we’re talking. I can get behind a rebel.
The first use of the word ‘rogue,’ according to M-W, was as a noun in 1561, a year which also birthed ‘filch,’ ‘gib,’ ‘grotesque’ and ‘nemesis,’ possible companions all.
‘Calling’ is a noun most often used to refer to someone’s vocation, but not just any employment. It includes professions where significant training was necessary and pursued with ‘zeal’ (M-W) ‘which one believes onself to be especially suited for.’
What stands out here is that one may not be forced into a calling, but might be compelled to take up a calling due to inherent talent and natural proclivity (itself meaning ‘inclination towards something objectionable’ — M-W).
Nor is a calling a brief or an isolated endeavour — it is a path sustained by desire or inclination — or perhaps satisfaction or empowerment.
The Rogues We Know
Rogues are a popular character type in genres such as science fiction, fantasy and romance, but they appear quite regularly in mainstream fiction as villains.
Heading any list of rogues would be Star Wars’ Han Solo, smuggler and pilot of the Millenium Falcon, which holds the 12 parsec record for the Kessel Run. Does he deserve the throne, though, because he quickly succumbs to Leia’s charms and joins the Resistance?
Lee Child’s Reacher novels follow a retired soldier as he wanders across America from one adventure to the next. ‘Just Reacher’ radiates rogue in every muscular ounce of his 270 pound frame, even when he’s not meting out his brand of fatal justice. Despite his propensity to leave the landscape littered with dead criminals, you just have to root for him.
Jason Bourne goes rogue, taking on corrupt elements of the CIA and Danny Ocean’s team of thieves are rogues to a man — rogue characters appeal to an audience because they do what we could not or dare not and let us share their adventure.
Rogues were always my favourite character class in Dungeons & Dragons for the fact they have such a versatile role and the coolest skill set. They could pilfer like thieves, move with the stealth of monks and lie like bards to learn useful information.
My Rogue
Writing this, it occurs to me a reason why I’ve had such difficulty with this idea. It’s ass-backwards to my normal creative process. Usually, I think about the subject matter, seeking some aspect that intrigues me. Then I find a theme and an emotional growth arc and, let them tell me the kind of character I need.
Defining a character first is creative Russian roulette, and in everything else I’ve written, I advise against it. BUT. This is (or will be) a story about a protagonist unfettered by the normal patterns and rituals of life, so why shouldn’t I ignore my own rules and go rogue?
Rogue’s Calling could refer to a story series as easily as a single tale. Furthermore, if it was to be a series, there is room in the title for the books to be individual stories about different characters who embody a variety of a rogue’s traits.
The characters I’ve cited above tap the same rogue character attributes but in unique amounts. My rogue must do the same.
What I hope will distinguish my rogue and his story is the second word in the title — calling.
A calling requires significant training and expertise. What if the skills learned for one profession could be applied to its darker cousin? What if the skills transfer were made possible by an unrelated ‘inclination’ or unexpected opportunity our protagonist would be stupid not to take advantage of?
And what if my protagonist had heretofore never really considered the rogue lifestyle? It’s been done before, in Breaking Bad. Walt, the series anti-hero protagonist, is diagnosed with advanced cancer. What pains him the most is how little money he will leave for his family, but then he learns how much money there is to be made in cooking meth and teams up with an ex-student. One batch leads to a second, then another, and Walt realizes he loves the risk and danger.
In upcoming parts, I’ll revisit past ideas and what I was thinking. A recent flight of fancy had me thinking of a very bad man recruited to work as the Hand of God. I began a scene that he narrates as he closes in on a victim in a nightclub, but his night takes a crazy turn. So crazy, in fact, it took me months to write the conclusion, but I’d put money on the fact you won’t guess the ending.
Here they are, Heads and Tails, parts 1 and 2:
