Getting Into Character: Seven Secrets a Novelist Can Learn From Actors by Brandilyn Collins

Denial, and then things will turn even worse—a Devastation. Scenes this strong are often major turning points in a novel. We’ll see an example of such a scene in the Study Samples at the end of this chapter.
    To understand how Action Objectives work, let’s look at the opening scene between Mr. Lockwood and Mr. Heathcliff in Emily Brontë’s Wuthering Heights , which takes place in 1801. We’ll take the scene step by step, noting how the Action Objectives of Lockwood change as conflict arises, and how those objectives prompt him to specific responses.
    Lockwood’s initial Action Objective for the scene is: “To place myself within the good graces of my new landlord so I can remain in my rented home.” Without being told the details that lead to this Action Objective, we are led to believe that Lockwood must have had good reason to think he’d angered the landlord. We come to understand this as we see the enduring strength of the Action Objective in light of all that occurs.
     
[Mr. Heathcliff] little imagined how my heart warmed toward him when I beheld his black eyes withdraw so suspiciously under their brows, as I rode up, and when his fingers sheltered themselves, with a jealous resolution, still further in his waistcoat, as I announced my name.
“Mr. Heathcliff!” I said. A nod was the answer.
“Mr. Lockwood, your new tenant, sir. I do myself the honor of calling as soon as possible after my arrival, to express the hope that I have not inconvenienced you by my perseverance in soliciting the occupation of Thrushcross Grange: I heard yesterday you had had some thoughts—”
“Thrushcross Grange is my own, sir,” he interrupted, wincing. “I should not allow anyone to inconvenience me, if I could hinder it—walk in!”
     
    Because of his host’s obvious displeasure at his visit, Lockwood’s Action Objective now becomes: “To enter the house without displeasing the landlord further.” This motivation lead to his response. He quickly accepts the grudging invitation, choosing to think of Heathcliff’s demeanor as merely “reserved” and choosing not to take the surliness of Heathcliff’s servant personally.
     
The “walk in” was uttered with closed teeth, and expressed the sentiment, “Go to the deuce”: even the gate over which he leaned manifested no sympathizing movement to the words; and I think that circumstance determined me to accept the invitation: I felt interested in a man who seemed more exaggeratedly reserved than myself.
When he saw my horse’s breast fairly pushing the barrier, he did put out his hand to unchain it, and then suddenly preceded me up the causeway, calling, as we entered the court—”Joseph, take Mr. Lockwood’s horse; and bring up some wine.”
Joseph was an elderly, nay an old man: very old, perhaps, though hale and sinewy. “The Lord help us!” he soliloquized in an undertone of peevish displeasure, while relieving me of my horse: looking, meantime, in my face so sourly that I charitably conjectured he must have need of divine aid to digest his dinner, and his pious ejaculation had no reference to my unexpected advent ….
Before passing the threshold, I paused to admire a quantity of grotesque carving lavished over the front, and especially about the principal door; above which, among a wilderness of crumbling griffins and shameless little boys, I detected the date “1500,” and the name “Hareton Earnshaw.” One step brought us into the family sitting room, without any introductory lobby or passage …. It includes kitchen and parlor, generally; but I believe at Wuthering Heights the kitchen is forced to retreat altogether into another quarter …. In an arch under a dresser reposed a huge, liver-colored bitch pointer, surrounded by a swarm of squealing puppies; and other dogs haunted other recesses ….
Mr. Heathcliff forms a singular contrast to his abode and style of living. He is a dark-skinned gypsy in aspect, in dress and manners a gentleman: