Category Archives: Dramatica Theory
Beyond Dramatica – a new free eBook by Dramatica co-creator Melanie Anne Phillips
Introducing a new free eBook by Dramatica co-creator Melanie Anne Phillips that explores how insights from the Dramatica Theory of Story can be applied to real world psychology, both for the individual and for society.
Click here to download “Beyond Dramatica” for free in PDF
Click here to download “Beyond Dramatica” Kindle format for $0.99
From the Preface:
In 1994, the book Dramatica: A New Theory of Story was first unveiled to the writing community and almost instantly revolutionized the way authors understood and constructed stories. Since then, its techniques have been employed by Pulitzer Prize winning authors, academy award winning writers and directors, and producers of some of the most innovative series on television.
Melanie Anne Phillips, co-creator of the Dramatica theory, has written hundreds of articles describing Dramatica’s concepts and their application to practical story development. But Dramatica is more than just a writer’s tool to construct fictional stories; by its very nature it has implications in the realm of human psychology at large. This book gathers together some of the most insightful articles by Melanie on the application of Dramatica to the real world.
Assembled and edited by Dramatica expert Sandy Stone, this collection has been organized to provide useful new perspectives on how human thought functions, both individually and societally.
So, put away your preconceptions and prepare to have your eyes opened to a whole new approach to some of the most intriguing questions of our time.
Featured articles include: Storyforms in the Real World and the Mobius Doughnut, Fractal Psychology in the Real World, Narrative Space in the Real World, Dramatica and the Brain, Dramatica Theory Application on World Problems, al-Awlaki, the “Uncanny Valley” and Writing Empathetic Characters, Watson and Dramatica: Building an Artificial Mind, and more!
Dramatic Quads & Dramatic Pairs
In each quad of Elements, we find not only Dynamic (diagonal) Pairs, but horizontal and vertical pairs as well. Horizontal Elements are called Companion Pairs, and vertical Elements are Dependent Pairs. Each kind of pair describes a different kind of relationship between the Elements, and therefore between the characters that represent them.
In addition to the three types of pairs, we can look at each Element as a separate component and compare it to the overall nature of the quad itself. This Component approach describes the difference between any given Element and the family of Elements in which it resides (quad). Therefore, the degree of individuality the characters represent within the “group” can be explored.
Dynamic Pairs describe Elements with the greatest opposition to one another. Whenever two opposing forces come together they will create either a positive or negative relationship. They can form a synthesis and create something greater than the sum of the parts or they can simply tear away at each other until nothing is left (destructive). Within a quad, one of the Dynamic Pairs will indicate a positive relationship, the other a negative one. Which is which depends upon other story dynamics.
Companion Pairs contain the Elements that are most compatible. However, just being compatible does not preclude a negative relationship. In a positive Companion Pair, characters will proceed along their own paths, side by side. What one does not need they will offer to the other (positive impact). In a negative Companion Pair, one character may use up what the other needs. They are not against each other as in a negative Dynamic Pair, but still manage to interfere with each other’s efforts (negative impact).
Dependent Pairs are most complementary. In a positive sense, each character provides strengths to compensate for the other’s weaknesses (cooperation). Together they make a powerful team. In its negative incarnation, the Dependent Pair Relationship has each character requiring the other in order to proceed (codependency).
Components describe the nature of the Elements in relationship to the overall quad. On the one hand, the individual characters in a quad can be a group that works together (interdependency). The group is seen to be greater than the individual characters that comprise it, at the risk of overwhelming the individuality of its members. This is contrasted by identifying the disparate nature of each character in the quad (independency). Seen this way, the characters are noted for their distinguishing characteristics at the risk of losing sight of shared interests.
Dynamic Relationships are the most familiar to writers, simply because they generate the most obvious kind of conflict. Companion and Dependent Pairs are used all the time without fanfare, as there has previously been no terminology to describe them. Components are useful to writers because they allow characters in groups to be evaluated in and out of context.
By constructing characters with thought and foresight, an author can use the position of Elements in the Chess Set to forge relationships that are Dynamic in one dimension while being Companion and Dependent in others. Characters created with Dramatica can represent both the structural Elements of the Story Mind’s problem solving techniques and the dynamic interchange between those techniques.
The Purpose of Stories
To convince ourselves (and others) that our actions are justified, we say things like, “This is going to hurt me more than it’s going to hurt you,” “It’s for your own good,” I had to teach him a lesson,” “She had it coming,” I had no other choice,” “I couldn’t help myself,” “There was nothing I could do,” “It was the right thing to do,” “The end justifies the means,” etc. Each of these statements tries to imply that even though feeling says this is wrong, reason makes a stronger case that it is right (or vice versa).
Whenever the “proper” response is unclear, the legitimacy of our actions is open to interpretation. If there were a way to stand outside of it all and take a truly objective view, we could see absolutely which actions were justifiable and which were not. Unfortunately, we are not afforded this objective view in real life. So, we create stories to try and approximate the objective truth.
Indy… Why does the floor move?
A Dramatica user recently noticed that Elements (the smallest, most detailed story points in Dramatica) are in different arrangements at the bottom of each of the four Dormains. In other words, he was wondering why the “floor” moved. (Click here to download a PDF of the Dramatica Table of Story Elements).
Here’s my reply….
Think of each of the four Domains as four different kinds of filters through which to see the story’s problem. They look at the effects of the problem in terms of Internal and External and divide each of those realms into States and Processes, creating the four Domains – Situation (external state), Attitude (internal state), Activities (external processes), Manipulation (internal processes, psychology or manners of thinking).
By the time you look all the way down to the greatest detail at the element level at the bottom of each Domain, you are seeing the same elements because you are looking at the same central core of the problem – the event horizon of the problem, as it were. Though they are the same elements, because of the four different filters, they appear distorted. It doesn’t change their names (the nature of the elements) but the distortion changes the way they appear to group together. So, while the same elements appear at the bottom of each Domain, the way they are arranged is different due to that distortion.
Always keep in mind that you never actually see the real inequity that is at the heart of the story directly It does not appear as being any particular story point or arrangement of story points. Rather, the inequity exists in the relationships among all the story points. It is the tension created by the gravitational pull of each story point upon all the others (actually the psychological pull, which acts like gravity in a storyform) that describes the effects of that inequity. When the planets are out of alignment – essentially meaning that there is tension in the storyform map of the story mind’s psychology – then there is inequity. And it is that inequity that leads to the unwinding of the story, act by act and scene by scene, like a Rubik’s cube being turned, seeking entropy – equity – in a realignment of all the forces into a stable balance once again.
The true inequity that causes the problem sits at the center of the story, in the middle of all the story points, guiding the celestial psychological orbits of the story points not unlike the unseen black hole at the center of our galaxy. And the elements revolve around it like separate solar systems of mental processes, both logic and passion, wheels within wheels within the space-time of the mind.
Dramatica Class: Mental Sex
Dramatica: Okay, we move on to Mental Sex…
This question is not about the gender of the main Character. And, it is not about their sexual preferences, AND, it is not about masculine or feminine. It is about problem solving techniques,linear, or holistic. More often than not, if you have a male gender, they are male mental sex, and female gender is female mental sex. Sometimes this is not true. Ripley, in the original Alien, was male mental sex. In fact, the part was written for a man,they just changed the names and gender references, but kept the problem solving techniques intact.
That’s why it is so odd when she goes back for the cat! Not that a man wouldn’t go back, but just that they had not given male reasons to, they just assumed she was a woman, so she would go back,but they had created her as male mental sex.
Now, men or women can easily learn to respond in the opposite sex techniques, but underneath it all is a tendency or bias to adopt either spatial or temporal problem solving techniques.
Clarisse Starling in Silence of the Lambs is another male mental sex character, whereas, Tom Wingo, the Nick Nolte character in Prince of Tides, is Female mental sex. Again, most often, go with what you expect.
PGThomas : Wasn’t Ripley saving the cat meant to build horror suspense, regardless of “mental sex”?
Dramatica : But be aware that it will have an influence on the way your main character goes about solving the problem, not the conclusions they come to.
PGThomas : How could they have established that action for Ripley?
Dramatica : Yes, PG, that is the author’s intent, but if the action is out of place to the established character, even though it may build tension, it rings untrue.
Dan Steele : how do linear/holistic relate to spatial/temporal? not clear.
Dramatica : Well, Dan, female mental sex tries to hold it all together, male tries to pull it all together, female tries to “tune-up” the situation with leverage,male determines steps that lead to the desired outcome. And so on, women look at things holistically, because they think with the time side, men look at things in sequence, because they are using the space side to think with.
PG, all they would have needed to do, is to have Ripley have said to Jonesy, the cat, at some earlier time, that no matter what, she would never leave him.
PGThomas : Gotcha
Dramatica : Then, she would have made a commitment, and that is a male contract.
PGThomas : “Commitment” a male contract? Don’t tell my girlfriend that!
Dan Steele : But there are time sequences ie., do a then b then c; and men do that.
Dramatica : Yes, men stand on space to see time, women stand on time to see space.
William S1 : What?
Dramatica : It all goes back to inside the womb in the 12th to14th week of pregnancy…There is a flush of testosterone or estrogen over the brain of the developing fetus. Testosterone boosts serotonin, the neurotransmitter that is an exciter. Estrogen boosts dopamine, the neurotransmitter that inhibits. This does not affect the body, which is controlled by XX and XY chromosomes, but just the foundation upon which the mind is built.
Dan Steele : hmm, going to run into my resistance on these views of male/female intelligences, but not going to make issue.
PGThomas : Does this flush determine the sex of the baby, or vice versa?
Dan Steele : The stand on space to see time thing versus time to see space is too vague for me without clarification, can’t buy it
Dramatica : One sees easily the arrangement of things, and works to figure out how things are going (paths). That’s seeing logic and figuring the emotions. The other sees emotions clearly, which give meaning, but need to work to see what the mechanism is. Again, its only an influence, and training can counteract it, though not eliminate it.
PGThomas : So a male baby could conceivably get an estrogen flush? And vice versa?
Dramatica : Yes, PG, that is true.
Dan Steele : are you saying that basic difference this theory builds on is that men see objects, logic, order, and women see emotion, reasons?
Dramatica : More precisely, Dan, that is just an aspect of the theory, only one of perhaps 80 questions, and it is not exclusive, it says men see linear logic more clearly, and women see holistic logic more clearly, and they lead to different approaches to problem solving. This is always the controversial question, but we found it in our model and can’t deny it.
Dan Steele : Am still bothered by definition of “holistic logic” and the contrast. Is stereotyping people too much I think. But dropping issue now so we can move along.
William S1 : Relax… for the most part males think in male patterns, and females think in female.
Dramatica : Tell ya what Dan, I’ll email you a whole article I wrote on the subject for our newsletter, that can go into more detail than I can here.
Dan Steele : Sure, helpful.
Dramatica : How about an easy question?
PGThomas : Is it possible to have a character equally male AND female mental sex?
Dramatica : PG, when a character switches between the two, they move from problem solving to justification, And that is, in fact what hides problems from the main character, creates a blind spot, and winds up the engine of potential. Its not a sex issue at that point, just like saying things are rotten now, but the reward is worth it, or I don’t care if this leads anywhere, I’m having fun.
William S1 : Don’t we all think in some parts male and female?
Dan Steele : Ah – men tackle problems head-on, women work around them. Confrontational versus nurturing.
Dramatica : There are four levels of the mind, and this only affects one of them. The other three questions about the Main Character, create dynamics for the other three levels. What’s nice is, once you answer enough questions to determine the shape of the message your working toward, Dramatica, the software, starts to see that pattern, and limit out choices that would no longer be consistent with the direction you have chosen. Eventually, it fills in the rest of the blanks, and tells you things about your story you didn’t tell it, and the things “feel” right! This could be formula,but you can start with any question and take any path through them, so there is no bias built into the software at all.
William S1 : What impact does Dramatica have on the intuitive creative process?
Dramatica : That depends on the particular author, Willam, first of all, some writers like to use it right off the bat, to figure out their dramatics so they know where they are going. But others like to write a draft first, then go to Dramatica to look for leaks and inconsistencies. And for the “chain of consciousness” writer, since they are not consciously trying to convey any overall meaning,but are just exploring a path and leaving a trail, then Dramatica has no value to them at all.
Story Structure Part 10 (video)
“The Four Throughlines, Part One”
http://storymindguru.com/dramatica-unplugged/10%20The%20Four%20Throughlines%20-%20Part%20One.htm
In this episode I explore the first two of four throughlines essential to every complete story. Throughlines are based on different perspectives on a story, much as you might have four cameras covering a football game. One is the objective view, which looks at the story from the outside in – it is often called the God’s Eye View of Author’s View. Another is the view of the Main Character as we stand in his or her shoes. it is the most personal view of what it is like to actually be in the story, without that special omniscience of the objective view. A third view is that of the Main Character looking at and considering the one character who most stands in his way philosophically. Often this is a friend or loved one rather than an enemy – a character who urges the Main Character to change his or her ways in some regard. The final view takes in the philosophical battle between the Main and Obstacle Characters as they come into conflict in attitudes and approaches over the course of the story. Like the Objective view, the Subjective view is seen from the outside looking in, but not from outside the whole story, just from outside the relationship between the Main and Obstacle. Each of these four provide a point of view on the story, positioning the reader or audience on all sides of the issues. Collectively, they all create perspective on the central message issue of the story. When the story is put into motion and we follow the progress, growth and change in each of these perspectives, they become “throughlines” because they follow the line of each perspective through the story.
Dramatica’s Semantics Explained
Some words about semantics…
The terminology used in Dramatica is extremely precise. Each word is designed to convey a very particular meaning. But this creates a number of problems from a rather obtuse lexicon to an unfamiliar taxonomy resulting in an almost impenetrable syntax.
See what I mean? Even just talking about Dramatica’s semantics is something of a brain tilt! So, my task in this article is to explain the purpose of all the different kinds of complex language in the theory and then provide a perspective from which all those words become tools, rather than obstacles. To that end, let us begin….
Part One – Classification of Concepts (Taxonomy)
To start with, it is important to note that when we developed the Dramatica theory, we didn’t come to the process with a whole bucket of preconceptions about how structure worked, tried to impose them on stories, and then slapped tricky names on them to obfuscate the issues. (It would be cool if we had, but we didn’t.) Rather, we intentionally didn’t read or study any other previous theories of story structure, just so we could approach the field with fresh eyes and open minds.
So, we looked for patterns – things that existed in stories and processes that drove them. We identified the things as being the building blocks of dramatics, the elements of structure. We identified the processes as the forces that arranged those building blocks, the dynamics of structure.
As these concepts started to pile up, we began to organize them, just to keep it all from becoming a confusing mess. We soon discovered that things were naturally falling into four broad categories: Structure, Dynamics, How Structure and Dynamics relate to one another, and How to Use Structure and Dynamics to build the underlying dramatic backbone or foundation of a story. Let me take just a brief moment to elucidate on each of these four categories…
Structure
Here we grouped all of the dramatic building blocks of a story – the elements that make up character, plot, theme, and genre. The end result was the now-familiar Dramatica Table of Story Elements. Here’s a link to a downloadable PDF copy, if you don’t already have one (and, for that matter, even if you do, it is still a link):
Dramatica Story Structure Chart
As you can see, it is rather reminiscent of the good ol’ Periodic Table of Elements besmirched by generations of chemistry and physics students. This similarity is not surprising. Just as the chemical elements are organized in families of like traits, so too the Dramatica Table groups the elements of structure into families as well. And just as the chemical elements can be combined to create all manner of substances, so too can the Dramatica elements be combined to create the chemistry of characters, plot, theme and genre.
I’ll return to the chart a little later to talk about the specific names of the elements and why they were chosen, but first let’s examine the remaining three categories into which we placed our dramatic concepts as we developed the theory….
Dynamics
Here we grouped the forces that drove the story – such things as whether the main character would eventually change its essential nature or remain steadfast to its long-held ideals, and whether the effort to achieve the story goal would ultimately end in success or failure. As with the elements in the structure chart, the dynamics, handily enough, also self-organize in sub-groups or families. The most familiar of these dynamics (and arguably the most powerful) eventually became known as the 12 Essential Questions (a nice marketing phrase) and you can easily delve into them with a simple search on the internet.
By the time we were done, we had discovered, organized and named several dozen dynamics, each of which is something of a unique point of view from which the elements of structure can be explored.
Relationship of Structure and Dynamics
Our third category held all the dramatica concepts that explored how structure and dynamics could be fitted together to create the jelled structure of a specific story. In other words, we found that structure just says what the pieces are, dynamics is the set of instructions for how they will come into play, and when you put them together in a particular way you end up the form of a particular story. Not surprisingly, we called that a Storyform. Rats! I’ve jumped ahead and described an actual word. Well, no matter, there will be plenty more of that to come. For now, suffice it to say that everything from Acts and Scenes to Points of View and Perspectives fall into this category.
Usage
In our fourth box for story stuff we tossed all of the techniques we discovered for how to actually go about choosing which dynamic to be attached to which structural element in order to get a precise effect in the completed story. We found four stages (or aspects) of communication between author and audience and identified many creative operations that could be applied in each of those four.
Part Two – Vocabulary (Lexicon)
Now we get down to the nitty gritty of how and why specific words were chosen for different kinds of things. I’ll do this by using examples from the Dramatica chart.
First, look at the Dramatica Table of Story Elements (and if you didn’t bother downloading it earlier, you might as well stop reading now, or just bite the bullet and download the sucker). You’ll note that the highest, most broad-stroke level the Table is divided into four families, each identified by a big boldface block letter name – Universe, Physics, Mind, and Psychology.
Now why in blazes are those names there? Where in the world did we come up with such things in reference to story structure? I’ll tell you.
When discovering all the new concepts we talked about in part one, in the structure category we had a whole jumble of words that described human qualities. Things like faith, denial, learning, or manner of thinking. At first we thought they were all of the same “weight” – that is to say, that you could put each of these qualities onto a different index card and then just use them almost as topics or aspects of human nature that came into play like playing cards in the course of a story.
But as we began to discover more of these qualities in story and to start to organize them, we discovered that some of them were traits we used to examine ourselves and some we used to interact with our environment. So, we considered each trait individually to determine whether it belonged in the set of those that looked inward or those that looked outward.
Now we had two groups of traits. The outward looking one we called “Universe” and the inward looking one we called “Mind.” Why? There is an old saying – “What’s Mind? No matter. What’s Matter? Never mind.” And that’s pretty much what we were thinking. Each trait either pertained to something of the physical world or something of the mental one, hence, Universe and Mind.
As for the traits in each of these two groups, we found two interesting things. One, they weren’t all the same weight. in fact, some traits were like family names, and other traits were like members of that family. When working in the Mind group, for example, it is filled with the mental processes we use to solve problems or work things through. And sometimes certain areas of consideration are just parts of an even larger kind of consideration. That larger consideration is an umbrella – a family name – for the similarity of the smaller kinds of considerations that fell within it – that made it up, just as individual member of the Smith family all have individual identities, yet also have roles within the family structure at large, making them all Smiths in on to their own identities. In the Periodic Table of Elements, you have families such as the Rare Earth elements and the Noble Gases (like Argon and Neon) – similar enough to share a family name, individual enough to be separate elements.
The Dramatica Table works much the same. If you scroll down through your downloaded PDF of the table to page 6, you’ll find a more “3D” view of the table, showing families and sub-families on different levels. For example, you’ll see in the upper left that the Universe Class (as we call it – a class of elements, as one might classify plant or animal species) is divided into four sub-families: Past, Present, Future, and Progress. Those sub-families appear in the second level down. And each of those, in turn, is made up of even smaller (or more detailed) kinds of considerations at the third level. And finally, you arrive at the bottom fourth level at which you encounter the quintessential elements of which all families are ultimately comprised.
For the moment, let’s go back up to the level just beneath Mind (the class in the lower right of the 3D table: Memory, Conscious, Subconscious, and Preconscious. To show you how the chart works and why the names in it were chosen, note that the word Memory in the Mind class is in the same relative position to Mind (upper left) as the word Past in Universe (also upper left). What this is saying is that Past is to Universe as Memory is to Mind. In other words, position in the chart is indicative of semantic relationship.
Let’s put that in far simpler terms… When we organized all the elements of structure into families and subfamilies we found that a pattern emerged (and this is the second interesting thing about Universe and Mind I earlier promised to explore): for every element (human trait) in Universe, there was a corresponding trait in Mind. There was a one to one correlation! Another example, Present is to Universe as Conscious is to Mind. Each one deals with the momentary nature of the here and now, one outward-looking, the other inward-looking.
Well now. Armed with this understanding, we began to organize and re-organize all of the various traits (elements) we had discovered, placing them in identical relative positions to each family and sub-family name. When we were done, we realized two things: One, that in some cases we had two elements that were really the same thing, just with a different name. So, we picked the best name and put that in the chart. Two, that sometimes there was a term in one of the classes with no corresponding term in the other class. Therefore, we needed to figure out what was that equivalent term that was missing, and then to give it a name.
We did this by looking at the neighbors of the missing term and comparing them to the neighbors of the term that did appear in the other class. We could begin to sense the semantic difference between the existing term and those around it, and then to calculate what the missing term in the other class would have to be (conceptually) to fill that same space and function. And so, bit by bit, we were eventually able to discard all the redundant terms and to fill in all the holes with appropriate names.
The end result was a balanced table in which a complete spectrum of human considerations had been mapped. And position in the table indicated meaning. In fact (for you mathematically inclined folk) you can draw a vector (line) between any two terms anywhere in the whole table and if you move that line so it connects two other terms completely unrelated to the first pair, the semantic difference between the second two terms will be identical to the semantic difference between the first two. And that line doesn’t have to be just vertical or horizontal – it can be at any vector angle that connects two terms – even ones in different positions within families and at different levels.
Now that’s a hell of a thing. Imagine! We had a chart that mapped all of the principal kinds of considerations we make in our minds, organized into families and named and arranged with such precision that meaning from one space to the next equalled the same distance in meaning, regardless of where it occurred in the table.
We found about one third to one half of those terms in stories, then filled in the holes by comparing similar terms in each class and looking to the neighbors of each to cross-reference what the missing terms ought to be. So, hundreds of generations of storyteller, though trial and error, had gotten us so close to an accurate map of the human mind that we were able to carry the baton the last leg, fill in the rest of the details in that sketchy image, and arrive at a precise Table of Story Elements.
Oh, and for those new to Dramatica who are wondering why I haven’t said anything about those other two classes in the Table (Physics and Psychology) – well, they were two of the holes we filled in. At first we thought is was just external and internal with Universe and Mind. And then we realized that it was also about seeing things in terms of space and time. Simply put, when we take a flash-photo of our environment, we see the fixed state of things. That’s what Universe is all about. And then we turn that camera on ourselves, we get a photo of the fixed state of our minds – things like biases, attitudes, preconceptions or, at a most basic level, our mind set. But, the mind doesn’t just exist as a bunch of attitudes. It is also in constant motion, figuring things out, coming up with plans. So, the mind is partly made up of relatively unchanging things, and also of processes. Similarly, the external world is partly about how things are arranged (space) and the processes at work (time).
Back to the Table, we eventually had come to refine our notion of Universe and Mind by adding Physics and Psychology so that rather than lumping the substance and processes of external and internal into just two classes, we split it all out, so that Universe is an external state, Physics an external process, Mind and internal state, and Psychology an internal process. If you stop to think about it, there’s nothing we can consider that can’t be described at the top most level as being either an internal or external state or process. And that’s why those four class names are at the very top of the consideration table.
It should be pretty obvious that in such a refined chart, choosing just the right word so it fits in its family from the top down, matches the other same-positioned words in the other three classes and is even so precise as to be able to create those vectors of semantic distance I mentioned earlier – well, it was hard. It took us about two years of full-time effort to polish up the vocabulary with the utmost in precision.
And herein lies both a strength and a weakness. As it turns out, the English language isn’t evenly spread around all potential meanings. In fact, it glops together in places where there are many words for the same thing, and then is quite threadbare in other places where there is actually no word at all for a meaning that clearly exists in a class because it exists in the other three. What to do?
After much discussion, we decided there were only two things we could do: One, find the nearest word to the meaning we were trying to describe and then redefine that word more specifically to our target meaning. Two, if there was no word of nearby meaning, just invent one of our own. Depending on the situation, we employed both methods.
Of course, if you are redefining and inventing words, no one is going to know what you are talking about. So, as part of the effort, we wrote a 150 page dictionary of every single term, including ones of common usage and understanding plus all those redefined and all those invented. Problem is, so many words and so many alterations for the common understanding…. It creates quite wall to scale if you want to use the theory or the Dramatica software that implements the theory as a tool for story development.
One solution is just to require every user to learn our definitions. While this is a perfect solutions for accuracy, it isn’t very practical as it makes the learning curve WAY too high to sell more copies than a handful. So, over the years, some key terms have been replaced with more common usage ones, such as Mind becoming Attitude or Psychology becoming Manipulation.
Now for most story purposes, these work okay. And this is because most structure is innately sloppy. After all, no one reads a book or goes to a movie to experience a flawless structure. Rather, we wish to excite our passions. And, driven by our emotional involvement (especially in the storytelling, subject matter and style) we are apt to not even notice a few slightly false beats, as long as they are in the ballpark. In short, show us a good time and we’ll forgive a few things that don’t quite ring true. For purists, however, the original terminology is still there in the software and you can swap it in and out ’til your heart’s content. There’s even two different versions of the Table of Story Elements – the accurate one I provided the link to and the revised, less accurate, more accessible one that I won’t provide a link to because I’m a freakin’ purist, okay!!!
There’s a move on now to make the software even more accessible by providing the capability to employ even more conversational and subject matter oriented language instead of the original terms for purposes of creating a storyform structure in the software. This also has advantages and disadvantages….
Consider if a story is about a problem caused by trash that is left all over the place. Well, the new approach would ask you what the problem of your story was and you’d type in “trash.” The software would bring up all the common phrases that had the word “trash” in them. So, it might then ask you, is your problem about the fact there is trash all over the place, or that people are leaving trash all over the place? Most writers would just answer “yes” and have a hard time picking between the two because, in common usage, they seem pretty much the same.
But, if the problem is that the trash is all over, it is a Universe (fixed state) problem, while if the problem is that people are dropping trash all over, then it is a Physics (activity) problem. In other words, picking one of the common usage phrases over the other could throw your whole story into a completely different class, which would alter where your main character was coming from, the kinds of story goals that might be appropriate to such a story and so on.
Now, add to that a long succession of such choices, each one based more on the subject matter than on the underlying structural position indicated by the original precise nomenclature and you can see the errors in meaning multiply until the final structure presented by the software bears no resemblance to story the user originally wanted to tell.
Still, using common language makes the theory and software so much more accessible an less daunting. And so, many folks who would never buy the product with the difficult original names might be wholly drawn in with the replacement phrases, thereby getting over the rejection hurdle and giving them time to explore, learn, and eventually come to use and understand the accurate original language.
So, it is something of a paradox – the more accurate the terminology, the fewer people will try, stick with, or come to use these valuable concepts. But, the more easily accessible the language becomes, the more inaccuracies will come into play.
The solution, of course, is that common language must be presented with the accurate terms side by side to at least provide guidance at the time the choices are made. And, there needs to be a statement at the very beginning that, as with any complex endeavor, there are levels of skill and accuracy one can achieve. You don’t learn about scarlet, cardinal and vermillion before you learn about red. And you can do an awful lot with red before you find within yourself the need for any of those more refined colors.
And, perhaps it is just a justification on my part, but even with the inaccurate accessible language, Dramatica still provides a clearer picture of the underlying structure and how it works than any other system yet devised.
Part Three – Grammar (Syntax)
Now this section is going to be REALLY short – mostly because I’ve made my points and also because I’ve been writing this in one long marathon session and I’m getting tired and hungry. So I’ll keep it to this – the grammar of story structure describes how you go about creating dramatic sentences. In other words, every time you write a scene, movement, sequence or act you are structuring the dramatic equivalents of phrases, sentences, paragraphs and arguments.
Discovering the exact nature of those “rules” in story structure was another rather intense quest on our part, but it was only possible because we already had the Table of Story Elements to serve as a map. In terms of semantics, suffice it to say that many of these rules were never observed before, and so a whole new set of terms was required to describe the parts and process of how dramatic elements are assembled in such a guided yet flexible manner as to create form without formula.
Conclusion and Summary
I imagine by now you’ve got the idea. We weren’t going out of our way to make Dramatica difficult or to put any layers of confusion into the mix to mask errors or faults with our model. Quite the opposite. We went out of our way to be accurate and complete and, in so doing, could not help but make the learning of Dramatica a daunting prospect.
Twenty years after we began this effort, none of the underlying concepts has changed. Once the model was originally fully built, it was both elegant, complete and true. It is only the wording we use to describe it and the concessions we make to provide the easiest possible entry into it that alter as we consider progressively better means of striking a balance between understanding and usability.
Fair enough.
Why Dramatica Works – Part 1
Over the past twenty years I have written innumerable articles and recorded over one hundred hours of video explaining what the Dramatica is , how to use it and even how it works, but I have never made a concerted effort to describe why it works.
Understanding the difference between “how” and “why” is both a subtle endeavor and a crucial one. For the “how” just deals with the nuts and bolts of Dramatica’s model of story structure, but the “why” describes the reasons behind the form and elements of that model. In other words, rather than trying to teach Dramatica for what it is, perhaps the best way to learn Dramatica is to understand why it is as it is.
To this end, I considered where to begin. What concepts should I start with? Perhaps an overview of the “big picture” view of the model or maybe with elements that most closely connect with more traditional approaches to story structure. And then, the obvious slapped me upside the head: I should begin my explanation right where Chris Huntley and I began our exploration so many years ago.
At that time, we knew virtually nothing about how stories worked and came to the problem with fresh and ignorant eyes. We dabbled in structure for a couple of months, then put it away for ten years before returning to it again, but this time in a nearly four year full-time effort. Each day posed new questions about the elements and forces that drove the underlying framework of stories. We struggled to make sense of what we saw, to grasp why it should be that way, and then to conceive of some manner of documenting it, modeling it, fashioning a function system that described, measured, and predicted it.
Still, I realized that the focus of this approach should not be to create a documentary of our efforts but rather to create an idealized path of discovery inspired by the steps we took but refined and guided by our current understandings having finished our journey and having arrived at the comprehensive perspective we enjoy today.
And so, while I will refer to the questions we asked and the answers that were ultimately revealed, the purpose of this initial article and its successive siblings is to seek the essence of story structure in its pure form, both by its nature and by the natural laws under which it self-organizes. With this as our direction and destination, let us begin our journey….
Enigma
To set the stage. In 1979 and on into 1980 Chris Huntley, Mark Sawicki and I wrote and produced a feature motion picture. We had all met at the University of Southern California in the Cinema department. I had left before completing my degree and was working in the industry. Chris and Mark were still attending when we began. The result was a modest horror movie called “The Strangeness” which, while something of an accomplishment for a budget of thirty thousand dollars, suffered from some rather glaring story problems.
Shortly after its completion, Chris and I decided to write the script for our next effort. But before we did, we thought we should seek to understand what was actually wrong with our previous story so as not to repeat the same mistakes in the new one. To that end, we reviewed our characters and plot. Though we could clearly feel that it was sometimes diverging from some unseen track or dramatic river channel, it was far more a sense of something wrong than a true grasp of what was wrong.
So, we went back over our notes from writing classes we had taken while at the university. What we soon discovered was that every instructor had their own vague notion of story structure, but in terms of anything truly definitive, they were all lacking. The best they had to offer were specific tips, tricks and techniques for story development which they had derived from many years of personal trial and error. In short, our instructors were as clueless as we were.
That being the case, we briefly considered studying the writings of famous investigators of the nature of story – folks such as Joseph Campbell and even Aristotle, not to mention a number of contemporaries who were proselytizing their own brands. But before taking such steps, we determined that if our instructors (who were already familiar with these systems and explanations) had no clear answers, then perhaps it might be better to approach the subject untainted by the conclusions of others. Though we might waste our time re-inventing the wheel, we argued, we also would have the best chance of uncovering something new in places everyone else “knew better” than to look. And so, we met in a small one-room studio “granny house” in the backyard of the home I was renting to ponder the unknown and seek some better grip on the mechanics of story than we had so far encountered.
In regard to our movie’s story, we sensed that our plot, while not excessively clever, wasn’t too far off “the mark” – whatever that was. But when it came to characters, though we had an interesting assortment of personalities, there was something false about the way they acted and interacted with each other. No fault of the actors – we could clearly see that in some cases parts of their scripted personalities seemed to be missing, while in other cases their conversations and actions seemed unmotivated, untrue or inconsistent.
Now we come to the first “why” we asked -“Why do characters ring true in some stories and ring false in others?” We gave it some thought, but try as we may, we could not fathom what was wrong, we could only sense it. So, we attacked the other side of our question and decided to look at really successful characters in other stories that were in a similar genre to ours. It was our assumption that perhaps we might solve our problems by measuring our characters against the template of characters that worked.
To this end, we decided to first investigate the characters in what wast the most popular film of our time: the original Star Wars movie (now called “Episode IV – A New Hope). As a first step, we listed the principal characters – the ones who seemed to be central to the forces that drove the story – the ones the story seemed to revolve around.
Our initial list included the following: Luke Skywalker, Obi Wan Kenobi, Darth Vader, Han Solo, Princess Leia, Chewbacca, C3PO and R2-D2. In our writing classes we had been taught about the Protagonist and the Antagonist – two archetypes that we were told must be present in every story. It made sense to us, so we figured we’d look over our list and identify the Protagonist and Antagonist, which seemed a pretty easy task with something as melodramatic as Star Wars.
It seemed pretty obvious to us and the rest of the movie-going world that Luke was the Protagonist and Darth the “over-the-top” villain. For now, let’s go with that, as it was our initial understanding though it later proved to be massively incorrect in regard to Darth. Turning our attention to the other principal characters in our list, we wondered if the fact that there was a Protagonist and Antagonist in every story might indicate that there were also other character types that must, or at least commonly exist in stories.
As we had not read historical explanations of archetypes, we had no grounding from which to begin our considerations, so we simply set about trying to ascertain the “essence” of each character. In my notes from a writing class I took from Professor Irwin Blacker, he proposed the concept that every character in a screenplay should be a “one hundred percent” character, meaning that each character should embody some essential human quality so that all that it thought or did was exemplary of that quality. For example, one character might be 100% “hate” while another was 100% “hope.” In this way, Blacker explained, we are able to examine the value and flaws of all our own shared traits.
With this small thread as our guide, we sought to label each of the characters in Star Wars as to that quintessential quality they represented and explored. Beginning we those we knew, Protagonist represented our drive to achieve a goal at all costs. Antagonist represented our drive to prevent that effort from succeeding – an enemy with an agenda in total opposition to that goal. Now, this didn’t quite ring true to us, even then, for the Protagonist was for something (destroying the empire) but the Antagonist wasn’t so much trying to prevent the empire from being destroyed as to destroy the rebel alliance. In other words, they were both protagonists, weren’t they? What was the difference? What different human qualities did they represent?
For a moment we thought maybe it is as simple as Hero and Villain – that the Protagonist was just a good guy while the Antagonist was a bad guy. But that also didn’t hold up since there were many characters who represented the quality of “goodness” and quite a few who represented “badness.” So, we left that one unresolved for a while and moved on to other characters figuring that just identifying Luke and Vader as Protagonist and Antagonist was sufficient for now and we could work out their specific qualities later more easily, perhaps, once we discovered what the other characters’ 100% qualities were.
Obi Wan, for example, appeared to be a mentor, teacher, or protector. But this confused us, as those labels didn’t really describe human qualities so much as the jobs he did. Han Solo, on the on hand, was pretty much a cut and dried skeptic. He didn’t believe in the force, didn’t believe in the rebel’s cause, and was only out for himself. So skepticism and perhaps selfishness were in his potential trail list.
Around this time we began to suspect that perhaps not all characters were 100% but might be fifty/fifty such as Han might be half skepticism and half selfishness. If so, then things were a bit more complicated than we had been led to believe. (If we had only know JUST how much more complicated, we would likely have given up right then and there and taken jobs in some other industry where we had some natural talent!)
We strove on, however, and considered the other principal characters. Chewbacca seemed to be all emotionally driven and wild, in contrast to Princess Leia who was the “ice-princess” – pretty much devoid of emotion and also the opposite of wild: staid and controlled as the two hairballs on the side of her head. Perhaps we were onto something here. Just as Protagonist and Antagonist were opposites, maybe Chewbacca and Leia were also opposites. But who was Han’s mirror image? Well, it had to be Obi Wan or one of the droids, C3PO or R2-D2.
It might be Obi Wan. After all, he believed in the force and Han didn’t. And the two of them argued a lot, so it made a certain amount of sense. Yet they didn’t particularly seem a balanced pair. And then there were the droids. What quality did each represent? And though they bickered, were they really in opposition? For that matter, did characters always have to be in opposition? Did each character need a mirror image opponent who exemplified the opposite human quality, such as greed and generosity or kindness and meanness? And finally, did all human qualities have an opposite one, or did the human mind itself have “orphan” qualities that stood alone, without opposition. In short, is there symmetry in stories; is there symmetry in the mind?
Well these questions were clearly too tough for us to answer, so we put aside characters for a bit to focus on plot instead. And here we also made some progress. One of the first things we discovered was something we called the “rule of threes.” This notion was that when you had two characters in opposition, they would meet three times in a story: First, to introduce their conflict, second to engage in conflict and part with no clear winner, third to have it out in a battle royal until only one remains alive, or in power, or simply just left standing.
After trying out the rule of threes we discovered that opposing characters might meet more than three times if their relationship and/or opposition was extremely powerful or complicated, but they had to meet “at least” three times or there would be a plot hole. So we revised our rule to so state.
And then we hit a brick wall. We couldn’t get a step farther in understanding plot and couldn’t see anything new in characters. After a few hapless days, Chris wisely suggested we simply hadn’t had enough life experience to crack this nut, so we should put it aside for a few years until we did and then revisit it. I agreed, and we turned our attention to that second screenplay which, when completed, contained most of the same problems as our first script and even some new ones we hadn’t had before. While interesting, we kinda figured that our time trying to understand story structure was wasted. And so it lay for almost ten years while Chris and I went on to our individual careers in the business.
That’s the end of this first installment in “Why Dramatica Works.” It illustrates how structure is not easy to see and, prior to Dramatica, was more an intuitive endeavor than an intellectual one. Now I may have gotten a few incidental facts out of order or perhaps ahead of where we actually were at the time, but give me a little slack – it was almost a third of a century ago. The important thing is noting the questions that arose: Is there a fixed structure to stories, or at least a fixed set of dramatic building blocks? Do things have to be in opposition (is there symmetry)? Do characters represent jobs or human qualities or both, and which is best used to identify them? If there are other archetypes beside Protagonist and Antagonist, what are they, and do they have to be in all stories or just CAN be in any story? And finally, are there rules of plot that determine how things will come into conflict, how conflicts will resolve, and the order in which events should or even must happen?
In the next installment we’ll come back ten years later in 1991 when we once more picked up the quest which, within six months, had turned into a full-time effort lasting three more years and become (so far) a twenty year career of finding new ways to explain and employ the Dramatica model of story structure we ultimately designed.
Story Structure – Part 4 (Video)
In this episode I describe “The Dramatica Chart” – a periodic table of story elements which presents the building blocks of story structure, organized into families.
Link to the video: