It was heralded as the end of a saga — featuring an epic battle of light against dark, the return of an old foe, and the conclusion of decades of storytelling. Just how successful that conclusion was depends on who you ask. Nonetheless, Star Wars: The Rise of Skywalker can tell us a great deal about the business of storytelling and, in turn, help you make decisions on how you want to tell your story with Trellis.
The deviation of J.J. Abrams’ The Rise of Skywalker from Rian Johnson’s The Last Jedi illustrates several lessons on structure, authorship, and the conversation between creator and audience. Where Jedi was all about deconstruction and subversion, Skywalker is all about nostalgia, callbacks, and fan service. Jedi sought to challenge viewers; Skywalker seeks to placate them. Both films dance around how to navigate fan expectations, drawing very the opposite conclusions.
The result in the trilogy’s finale? A last-minute rewrite of Rey’s origins, a tongue-in-cheek nod to Luke tossing away his lightsaber, and the return of Kylo Ren’s mask, which had been literally and symbolically smashed to pieces in Johnson’s film. For better or worse, the narrative of these movies will forever be inextricably linked to the narrative that surrounded the films. You can’t watch The Rise of Skywalker without noticing that the storytelling vision contrasts sharply with its predecessor and wonder how it all happened.
Rather than pass judgement on either film’s success or failure, we can look at these works as learning experiences for how we tell our own stories. Moreover, like Hollywood, ghostwriting is a collaborative effort. The pitfalls encountered by artists in the film industry can shed light on potential problems in the ghostwriting field. We can avoid them by going into a project with everyone on the same page.
Lesson #1: Have a plan. No matter what side you’ve chosen in the Abrams vs. Johnson debate, you can’t deny that this trilogy had little to no overarching plot planned from the beginning. This problem befalls several writers as well, not only in a planned series of books but also within a single narrative. If you set out to pen a series with intricate plot mechanics and surprise reveals, those need to be determined in advance. Likewise, if you’re penning a complicated murder mystery or setting down a single epic narrative, you can’t simply sit down and start writing and hope you’ll write your way to a cohesive, satisfying conclusion.
Multi-book stories or genres requiring detailed world-building and plot structure will inevitably take longer because of a lengthy planning stage. However, when done well, the payoff is enormous, both for the writers and the readers. If you dream of a book or series with a grand, big-picture design but can’t figure out how to make it happen, a ghostwriter can break down the logistics for you. Just don’t be surprised if that means more work upfront in the brainstorming phase to ensure all the pieces fit together.
Lesson #2: Nothing is created in a vacuum. Yes, your story might be completely original, taking place in a fantastical setting, peopled with diverse, unique creatures, all of it surrounding an airtight, sophisticated plot. But your work inevitably belongs to a genre. That genre has its own conventions, standout examples, and reader expectations. Your work is in conversation with the other works within that genre. Not only do you need to keep that in mind while creating your project, but you also need to be aware of how you seek to either be similar to or different from those conventions, examples, and expectations.
Jedi was having a different conversation with Star Wars fans and the science-fantasy genre than Skywalker, and this is a large part of why the two films aren’t in conversation with each other either. Johnson wanted to talk about the fallibility of our heroes, the unreliability of our collective and individual memories, and the power of everyday nobodies taking their place in a larger universe. Abrams wanted to talk about the past’s inescapable power over us, the comfort and discomfort of the familiar, and the simple pleasure of watching a straightforward battle between good and evil unfold. Johnson wanted to differentiate his work from others through disruption. Abrams wanted to assimilate his work with others through cohesion. Johnson was responding to Star Wars’ black and white thinking with shades of grey. Abrams was responding to Johnson with a return to the status quo of Rebel vs. Empire, Jedi vs. Sith.
Your project isn’t just talking at readers. It’s talking with them, with the genre, with the industry, and with culture. What do you want to say about your genre? Your topic? What are you responding to with your project? What is the bigger conversation surrounding your work? If you don’t know yet, that’s okay! A ghostwriter can help you find your answers.
Lesson #3: Write for the story, for the characters, and for yourself. This piece of advice might sound counterintuitive after Lesson 2. However, you have to find the balance between being aware of what’s expected and still pursuing what’s best for the story. There’s a reason we use the expression “in conversation with.” Your work shouldn’t just talk without taking into consideration what others are saying in your field, but your work also shouldn’t be a pushover, trying to satisfy all readers, all expectations, and all genre conventions. Listen to what other artists are saying and build on it in your own way.
The backlash against Jedi largely stemmed from fan expectations. Regardless of what you thought of the film, Johnson did not write it for all fans. He wrote the story he wanted to tell, see, and experience as both an artist and a Star Wars fan. Faced with some vocal disagreement with this approach, Abrams over-corrected, resulting in a different kind of backlash. He wrote the story he thought fans wanted, while still attempting to maintain elements that he wanted as a fan. Skywalker ended up with shoe-horned elements, unnecessary callbacks, and messy plotting. In short, by trying to please everyone, Abrams pleased practically no one except a select few. This is, to be frank, pandering.
A popular phrase in writing is “murder your darlings.” This means you must kill off beautiful or baroque phrasing or unnecessary characters you love to make sure your finished product is in its best possible form. Murdering your darlings includes removing moments that pander to the audience. It’s part of maintaining artistic integrity. We all want everything tied up neatly in a bow, but is that what serves the story? Or your characters’ arcs? A ghostwriter can help you make tough decisions, cutting out what’s unnecessary, challenging readers when the narrative calls for it, and preserving the internal logic of your story.
Good writers and good collaborative relationships take all these lessons to heart. The story you’re writing, like the Star Wars films, is contained within the larger story of how it’s being written. Trellis not only helps you write your story, but helps you write the story of your story. We’re by your side through brainstorming and logistics. We’re with you as you consider your story’s role in the wider conversation. And we’ll help preserve the creativity and integrity of your ideas, characters, and conclusions.
Now that we’re all on the same page, let’s get started!