PIXAR’S 22 RULES OF STORY (RULE #1)

Introduction:
In 2011 a former Pixar colleague, Emma Coats, Tweeted a series of storytelling aphorisms that were then compiled into a list and circulated as “Pixar’s 22 Rules Of Storytelling”.  
She clearly stated in her compilation blog post that the Tweets were “a mix of things learned from directors & coworkers at Pixar, listening to writers & directors talk about their craft, and via trial and error in the making of my own films.”  
We all learn from each other at Pixar, and it’s the most amazing “film school” you could possibly have. Everybody at the company is constantly striving to learn new things, and push the envelope in their own core areas of expertise.  

Sharing ideas is encouraged, and it is in that spirit that the original 22 Tweets were posted.  
However, a number of other people have taken the list as a Pixar formula, a set of hard and fast rules that we follow and are “the right way” to approach story.  
But that is not the spirit in which they were intended. They were posted in order to get people thinking about each topic, as the beginning of a conversation, not the last word.  
After all, a hundred forty characters is far from enough to serve as an “end all and be all” summary of a subject as complex and important as storytelling. 
So since Pixar’s name is associated with that list, I decided it’d be beneficial to the world’s storytellers for another Pixarian to write a series of blog articles to look at the aphorisms one-by-one and analyze them.  
In the spirit of inspiration, exploration and discussion in which the advice was intended, I found points of agreement and disagreement, and offer up caveats, expansions, and excisions that I felt made the advice stronger. 
This book is a compilation of those blog articles (with a few edits, most notably this intro stopping before going off-topic). 
RULE #1: You admire a character for trying more than for their successes.  
In the main, the statement rings true. It’s good foundational advice, especially since many storytellers “go too easy on” their characters because they like them. Drama comes from struggle, and empathy and admiration come from seeing someone trying in the face of difficult odds.  
A film in which the protagonist never fails at anything is rather devoid of conflict and is unlikely to hold anyone’s interest, but the statement is ultimately about the balance between seeing a character fail and seeing them succeed impacting audience appreciation of the character — not about plot dynamics. 
Furthermore, most people consider themselves average, even mundane. When they try to do things, they focus on what they get wrong, and how far short of their own goals they’ve fallen.  
Characters who do the same thing will more readily evoke empathy and sympathy from the audience.  
A classic, easily understood example is the true underdog story: The everyman trying to do something only special men are supposed to be able to do.  
The obvious example is a story like Rudy, but Indiana Jones and John McClaine are beloved, ”relatable” action adventure characters in their first films because they are vulnerable, both physically and emotionally.  
But there is an assumption in the premise of the statement that can also lead storytellers into trouble if they’re not careful: that characters need to be admired.  
Sometimes you want a character to be interesting more than admired, or even sympathetic — perhaps even going so far as creating a protagonist that’s interesting and questionable, unlikable, or even reviled.  
And a character that succeeds more than she fails can be interesting. 
Superhero stories often rely on this to establish that the hero is accustomed to easy success, and so is the world she protects — to underscore how powerful the bad guy really must be to upset this status quo.  
Antihero stories, on the other hand, flip the trope to show you someone who is good at being bad, so when they’re trying to be good you know they’re giving up something that worked for them in order to change. (That sacrifice being a crucial, often overlooked element of a great character arc – one that applies to all characters, not just antiheroes.) 
Another “clever” use of flipping the trope comes in stories where the fact that the protagonist has no conflict in their life is their main source of conflict. But this is uncommon, and is rarely done well.  
So, while the statement is true when your goal is to have your character fit the “admirable, sympathetic character that audiences easily empathize with” — that isn’t the only kind of character people will find engaging. Therefore, if a sympathetic character isn’t what your story calls for, look at how you can change that success vs. failure balance to serve the character you’re creating. next