One of the great pleasures in fiction is coming across characters who are focused, determined, and know exactly what they want in life, and if you’re a writer, you’ve probably looked into creating such a character yourself. Like most writers, you’ve probably read about how you’re supposed to ask what your characters want to learn more about who they are. While it’s sound, timeless advice, there’s a deeper, more meaningful aspect to it that’s rarely discussed.

First, though let’s take a look at some famous villains and what they want:

1. Sauron wants to conquer Middle-Earth, and he has the strength, the military might, and the intelligence to pull it off; all he needs is his ring, and he will stop at nothing to retrieve it.

2. The Deacon from Waterworld wants to find and pillage Dryland, and he never gives up, no matter what obstacles are in his way, including the incompetence of his underlings.

3. Disney wants to buy every corporation, media franchise, and nation on Earth, and they won’t let pesky things like laws, common sense, or an outraged public stop them.

Now, let’s look at some famous heroes and what they want:

1. Gandalf will stop at nothing to prevent Sauron from taking over Middle-Earth, but while he puts his allies and assets in harms way, he doesn’t hesitate to put himself in harm’s way as well.

2. Luke Skywalker will redeem his father from the Dark Side and refuses to give up, no matter the odds, even when he has to turn himself over to the Empire and stand before the most powerful and evil being in the galaxy.

3. Jack Dawson may be a scrappy beggar with nothing to his name but the clothes on his back and sketches of naked French prostitutes, but he’s not going to let anything get in his way from saving Rose aboard the Titanic.

All these heroes and villains have simple, identifiable goals, but have you noticed that there’s a common thread among them?

None of them will take ‘no’ for an answer.

This is the deeper meaning behind ‘what do your characters want?’ What do they want so badly that they will refuse to give up, no matter the odds, no matter how many people say, ‘no, you can’t do that,’ or even if they lose everything dear to them? Combine this determination with the classic advice and we get a new, richer version:

‘What do your characters want so much that they won’t take ‘no’ for an answer?’

Answer this question and you’re already halfway there to creating a determined, focused character. Even better, combining an antagonist who refuses to accept ‘no,’ and a protagonist who refuses to accept ‘no,’ results in guaranteed conflict, the lifeblood of any story. Better yet, make both sides morally ambiguous and the conflict becomes even richer:

1. A soldier has to maintain a quarantine on a city infected with zombies and knows that if any break out, his family will eventually be attacked and turned into zombies themselves. But while guarding a vulnerable section of a wall, a desperate survivor with her little boy comes up to escape. Problem is, her boy has been bitten and will inevitably turn and spread the virus. Her mother is aware of this, but is determined to find a cure and is willing to kill to get her son out of the city.

2. Two battlefleets sail towards each other: one is from an empire that is on the verge of total victory in the galaxy, and only needs to conquer one last planet to obtain complete control over the galaxy so they can use every world’s resources to build a fleet to combat an even bigger, more dangerous alien fleet that’s heading their way. But the fleet from the last planet will stop at nothing to protect their people from a lifetime of slavery, even if it means deploying planet-destroying weapons and wiping themselves out to defeat their enemies.

3. A terrorist organization sneaks into a city to plant a nuclear bomb and blow it up to kill an evil and corrupt president and his cabinet who have turned their once-democratic country into a third-world dictatorship; wipe them all out with one bomb, and the country has a chance to recover. The city’s police officers – who have dedicated themselves to protecting the innocent – set out to stop the terrorists no matter what the cost, even if some innocents are caught in the crossfire.

It’s easy to come up with ‘my character wants to save the world/get rich/win the baking competition/stop the Disney corporation from taking over the world,’ motivations when developing our characters, but if we take the time to ask what they want so badly that they will sacrifice everything to get, we will get to know them better, and make them even more compelling for our audiences to follow.

What We Can Learn From The Biggest Plot Hole In ‘Titanic’ (And No, It’s Not That Hunk Of Wood)

No matter how careful or methodical a director or writer may be, mistakes and plot holes will always sneak into movies and books, and 1997’s ‘Titanic’ is no exception; despite being the most historically accurate film about the famed ship at the time, fans and viewers have long pointed out about how Jack describes Lake Wissota before it was created, about extras bouncing off foam capstans as the stern rises into the sky , and have gone on and on about how Jack could have fit on that hunk of wood after the Titanic sank, letting him and Rose survive the freezing waters of the Atlantic.

Yet, despite being out for over twenty years, one plot hole seems to have escaped notice, one that, if taken to its logical conclusion, would make the events of the film impossible.

In ‘Titanic’s opening scene, treasure hunter Brock Lovett and his motley crew retrieve a safe from the ship and bring it to the surface in search of the Heart of the Ocean, but find only random artifacts, including Jack’s drawings of Rose, which eventually leads to her coming out to the salvage ship and captivating them (and us) with her tale of love, loss, and survival. It’s a great start to the story, but there’s just one problem:

How did the salvage crew get the safe to the surface?

Now, this question seem silly, but the longer you think about it, the more apparent it becomes that getting the safe out of the ship is nearly impossible because of two factors:

1. The weight of the safe.

2. The safe’s location.

Let’s begin with the weight issue: I was unable to find any information online about the safe’s weight, the manufacturer, or the model used in the film, but a search on other safes of similar size from the early 1900’s revealed that they typically weigh around two to three hundred pounds, so we can assume the safe in the film has roughly the same weight (it’s telling that the only time we see the safe being moved in 1912 is when it’s been wheeled into Cal’s suite on a dolly).

Next, let’s look at the safe’s location: The safe is still inside of Cal’s suite on B deck, and within a fairly short distance to the remains of the grand staircase. To get to it, Brock has to dispatch his rover down two decks, go down a hallway, then go through two doors to reach the safe and then pull it out the same way.

Now, at first glance, that sounds difficult, but not insurmountable. But remember that Brock is trying to retrieve a safe that weighs a minimum of two hundred pounds. And unlike in real life, where a safe was retrieved from Titanic’s debris field, Brock can’t just attach the safe to a cable and pull the safe straight up. He has to somehow drag that heavy safe out of the suite, across B deck, and get it to the stairwell. Complicating matters further is that the only tool he has at his disposal is a rover that is not capable of moving heavy objects, much less a two hundred pound safe.

A potential solution to this problem might be to have the control ship Keldysh attach a net to the tow cable on the stern, lower it directly into the stairwell, and then have the rover maneuver the net into the cabin, put said net over the safe, and then winch it out of the ship. But this wouldn’t work: First of all, the end of the cable looks like this:

How is that big, bulky thing supposed to be dragged into B deck and through two staterooms by a tiny robot?

Second, imagine a helicopter hovering five hundred feet above a rotting two story house; it lowers a thick, bulky hook on a cable down the chimney and uses a tiny drone to try and maneuver that hook into a bedroom twenty feet away from the chimney, and then into a closet, then have the rover drape the net over a safe. What do you think will happen when the helicopter tries to winch the safe out of the closet? That’s right: the hook’s housing is going to get caught on the roof, the door frame, or any other number of obstacles. Applying more pressure will just damage the house, make the cable get caught on something else, or even fray it to the point of snapping, and that’s also assuming the net would even stay on the safe and not just slide off.

Now, if Brock wants to do something simpler, a more logical way would be to have the hook snaked in through the windows of the suite’s promenade deck and attach it to the safe, then drag it out through the window. The main advantage of this route is that the distance the safe needs to travel is much shorter, but I don’t think it would work, either; again, the end of the cable is much too big and can’t be maneuvered through the windows. Even if it was, it would get stuck on the window when it was being retracted. Secondly, considering how the metal has been rusting underwater for over 80 years, there’s a reasonable chance that it could break or shatter, creating sharp edges that could cut the cable, and that’s assuming that the safe doesn’t get stuck on debris on the suite’s floors while it’s being dragged about.

When we add in the factors of the safe’s weight, the distance it has to travel, the limited tools at Brock’s disposal, and the difficulty of getting such a heavy object out of a shipwreck, we are faced with one inescapable conclusion: there is no logical way to get the safe out of Titanic. And if there’s no safe, there’s no drawings, and there’s no movie. It would end with Brock being forced to give up his quest, Rose dying in her bed at home, and the movie being only eight minutes long.

And yet, even with all that in mind, this plot hole really doesn’t matter in the long run. At this point in the story, the point is to have the safe retrieved and Jack’s drawings be discovered. How that happens really isn’t important from a story perspective. And while that may sound like a cheat, consider other similar situations from other movies and TV shows:

1. King Kong: The crew of the Venture needs to get Kong from Skull Island to New York City. The story has two options:

Option A: Show Driscoll and the others constructing a raft, tying Kong to it, and sailing hundreds of miles while constantly trying to keep Kong unconscious and unable to break free.

Option B: Just cut to New York a week or two later.

2. Star Wars: A New Hope: Luke, Leia, Han, and Chewbacca are separated deep in the bowels of the Death Star, a moon-sized fortress they’ve never been in before and are unfamiliar with, and they have to get back to the Millennium Falcon to escape. The story has two options:

Option A: Show the four trying to find maps, read directions, and otherwise stumble around until they finally meet up again and find a way to the Falcon.

Option B: Just show them meeting up and seeing the Falcon.

3. The Last Ship: A small squad attacks a Russian warship that’s a long distance away from their own ship and need to be picked up.

Option A: Have the protagonist’s group mount a rescue operation and somehow retrieve the strike team from such a long distance without being blown up or captured by the Russians.

Option B: Cut to the protagonists sailing away from the battlezone with everyone onboard while discussing their next plan of action.

4. Godzilla vs Kong: Kong has to climb from the center of the Earth to the surface to fight Godzilla, a distance of over 12,000 miles, in less than ten minutes.

Option A: Have Kong struggle to reach the surface, taking frequent breaks to try and regain some of his strength from having to climb 1,200 miles a minute, finally reaching the surface so exhausted and so worn out that he has a heart attack and dies.

Option B: Ignore physics and have the giant gorilla get to the surface with no problem and with plenty of strength to fight the radioactive lizard.

In all of these examples, the problems they pose to the story are considerable, and in some cases logically impossible. And yet, they aren’t a problem because it isn’t necessary to see all the steps needed to move a story forward. With a limited runtime or amount of pages, a movie or book has to be choosy about what to focus on and what to show the audience (when was the last time you saw characters stopping to take a bathroom break?).

I think the ultimate takeaway from all this is that a plot hole can sometimes be ignored if it isn’t absolutely required to move the story forward. While writers can and should try to make a story as logical and airtight as possible, we should focus more on telling a good story with engaging characters, keep the momentum moving, and focusing on important details instead of explaining each and every detail. If we do our jobs well, our audiences will either be willing to overlook a problem, or not even notice them at all.

PS: If any readers have a good explanation about how the safe was pulled out of the wreck, please leave a comment and I’ll be happy to update this article with said information.