Category Archives: Dramatica Theory

Applying Dramatica to the Real World

Analyzing and Predicting the
Activities of Groups & Organizations

 

By Melanie Anne Phillips

 

Based on theories developed by
Melanie Anne Phillips & Chris Huntley

Introduction to Dramatica Theory and Applications

The Dramatica Theory of Story is a model of the mind’s problem solving processes which has been successfully employed for seventeen years in the analysis and construction of fictional stories ranging from major Hollywood productions to novels, stage plays, and television programs.

Software based on the Dramatica Theory is built around an interactive Story Engine which implements the problem-solving model as a method of determining the meaning and impact of data sets and of predicting motivations and actions based on potentials inherent in the data.

This is achieved by creating a Storyform – essentially, a schematic of the problem solving processes at work, their interactions, their outcomes, and the future course they will take.

The Dramatica system and its problem-solving algorithms can be applied with equal success to the analysis of real-world situations as well, specifically in determining the motivations behind the actions of a target group and in the prediction of their future actions and potentials for action.

Scalability and the Story Mind

To illustrate this methodology let us consider a generic target group. This might be a clique, club, movement, political faction, tribe, or nation. This highlights an important benefit of the system: Dramatica is scalable. It works equally well on individuals or groups of any size.

This kind of scalability is described by a Dramatica concept referred to as the Story Mind. In fiction, characters are not only individuals but also interact in stories as if they are aspects of a larger, overall mind set belonging to the structure of the story itself.

If, for example, one character may emerge in group actions and discussions as the voice of reason while another character, driven primarily by passion, becomes defined as the heart of the group.

Stories reflect the way people react and behave in the real world, and when individuals band together as a larger unit, they fall into roles where the unit itself takes on an identity with its own personality and its own psychology, almost as if it were an individual itself, in essence, a Story Mind.

Fractal Storyforms in the Real World

Similarly, if several groups become bound, as when factions join as members of a larger movement, the movement begins to take on an identity and the factions fall into roles representing aspects of individual problem solving processes.

Dramatica can move up and down the scale of magnitude from the individual to the national and even international level, while retaining an equally effective ability to analyze and predict based on its underlying model. This phenomenon is referred to the Fractal Storyform.

In actual practice, many groups of interest are ill defined, have blurry edges and indistinct leadership. Still, the core motivations of the target group can be determined, and from this the edges of the group can be refined sufficiently to create a storyform of the appropriate magnitude to suit the task at hand.

Memes and Story Points

Dramatica makes a key distinction between the underlying structure of a story and the subject matter that is explored by that structure. For example, every story has a goal but the specific nature of the goal is different from story to story. Elements such as a goal which are common to every story and, hence, every problem solving process, are referred to as Story Points.

Similarly a culture, ethnic group, religion, political movement, or faction will employ the same underlying story points but will clothe them in unique subject matter in order to define the organization as being distinct and to provide a sense of identity to its members.

Once a story point has been generally accepted in a specific subject matter form it becomes a cultural meme. Efforts to analyze and predict a culture based on memes alone have largely been unsuccessful.

Dramatica’s system of analysis is able to strip away the subject matter from cultural memes to reveal the underlying story points and thereby determine the specific storyform that describes that group’s story mind.

Essentially, Dramatica is able to distill critical story points from raw data and assemble them into a map of the target group’s motivations and intentions.

Passive Participation and Active Participation

One of Dramatica’s greatest strengths is that it works equally well in constructing stories as in analyzing them. We refer to analysis as Passive Participation and construction as Active Participation.

When dealing with a target group of interest, these two approaches translate into the ability to passively understand the target group and anticipate its behavior, and also to actively create courses of action by which to intervene in and/or influence the group’s future activities and attitudes.

To understand, we determine motivations and purposes.

To anticipate, we project actions and intent.

To intervene, we define leverage points for targeted action.

To influence, we determine nexus points for focused pressure.

Analysis

The passive approach is comprised of Analysis and Prediction. Analysis is achieved by first identifying independent story points and then determining which ones belong together in a single storyform.

Identifying Story Points 

In addition to cultural memes, story points can also be derived from the target group’s public and private communications, in news publications and vehicles of propaganda, in works of art (both authorized and spontaneous), in popular music and entertainment, in the allocation of resources, and in the movements and gatherings of individuals. In short, any data can directly or indirectly provide valid story points.

Identifying a Storyform

Once a collection of story points has been assembled, it must be determined which ones belong together in the same storyform. Each storyform represents a different state of mind, but there may be many states of mind in a single target group. These are not different mind sets of individuals, but different mind sets of the group itself:. And just as stories often have subplots or multiple stories in the same novel, target groups may have a number of different agendas, each with its own personality traits and outlook.

This can be illustrated with an example from everyday life: a single individual may respond as a banker at his job, a father and husband at home, a teammate in a league and a son when he visits his own parents. Similarly, a target group may have one storyform that best describes its relationship to its allies and another that describes its relationship to its enemies.

It is crucial to determine which storyform is to be analyzed so that an appropriate subset can be selected from all derived story points.

Results from Limited Data

The Story Engine at the heart of the Dramatica software cross-references the impact and influence of different kinds of story points as they interact with one another, both  for individual story pointsand for groups of story points.

Once the scope of the storyform is outlined, the software can actually determine additional story points within that closed system that had not been directly observed as part of the original data set. This creates a more detailed and complete picture of the situation under study than is evident from the limited data.

Spatial Data vs. Temporal Data

Unique to Dramatica’s software, the Story Engine is able to determine the kinds of events that must transpire and the order in which they will likely occur, based on the static picture of the situation provided by the complete storyform.

In stories, the order in which events occur determines their meaning. For example, a slap followed by a scream would have a different meaning that a scream followed by a slap. Similarly, if one understands the potentials at work in a storyform derived from story points pertaining to the target group, the Story Engine is capable of predicting what kinds of events will likely follow and in what order they will likely occur.

Conversely, if the originally observed data set includes sequential information, such as a timeline of a person’s travels or of the evolution of a sponsored program, the Story Engine can convert that temporal data into a fixed storyform that will indicate the motivations and purposes of the group that led them to engage in that sequence of events.

Prediction

The Dramatica theory and Story Engine (when properly used by experts) is able to translate the spatial layout of a situation into a temporal prediction of how things will unfold from that point forward.

Signposts and Journeys

The Dramatica storyform breaks events into Signposts and Journeys. These concepts are similar to the way one might look at a road and consider both the milestones and the progress being made along the path.

In stories, this data is described by Acts, Sequences, and Scenes, concepts which represent different magnitudes of time. Acts are the largest segments of a story, sequences one magnitude smaller, and scenes are even smaller dramatic movements.

Wheels within Wheels

It is commonplace to think of story events as simply being driven by cause and effect. A more accurate model may be roughly visualized as wheels within wheels, where a character sometimes may act in ways against its own best interest. For example, larger forces may have been brought to bear and might carry greater weight.

The outside pressures that are brought to bear on the target group build up these potentials as if one were winding a clock. In stories, this creates potentials that make each wheel (such as an act of a scene) operate as if it were a dramatic circuit.

Each story point within a given dramatic circuit is assigned a function as a Potential, Resistance, Current, or Power. Determining which of these functions is associated with each story point is essential to accurately predicting the nature and order of a target group’s future activities based on an understanding of the different magnitudes of motivation at work.

Closed Systems and Chaos

Storyforms are closed systems. They are snapshots of a moment in time in the mindset of a target group. But just as an individual or a character in a story is constantly influenced by outside events, new information, and the impact of others, so too is the target group. To the ordered world of a storyform, such outside influence is seen as chaotic interference.

The accuracy of a storyform analysis and its predictions has a short shelf life. The more volatile the environment in which the target group operates, the more quickly the accuracy of the storyform degrades.

Fortunately, storyforms can quickly incorporate new data to be updated in real time to give a constantly refreshed accuracy to the analysis.

In addition, just because a target group’s motivations and agenda is continually being altered by outside events does not mean the effects upon it are completely chaotic.

Some influences, such as an earthquake, an unexpected death, or a surprise attack are truly chaotic, while other influences only appear to be chaotic because they are not part of the closed storyform. Rather, they are part of a larger story.

Applying the concept of the fractal storyform, it is possible to create additional storyforms of both larger and smaller magnitudes to surround the target group so that it is seen not only by itself, but also as a player in a larger story or in terms of individual players within it. In this manner many events which previously appeared chaotic can be predicted and the accuracy of the target group storyform is enhanced.

Movie Frames

Another method for minimizing inaccuracy in prediction is to create a series of storyforms for the target group over a given period. These are then assembled in sequence, like frames in a movie, to determine the arc of change over time.

Truly chaotic events will largely cancel out, but ongoing influence from larger and smaller storyforms with their own individual agendas will create a predictable curve to the manner in which the target group’s storyform is changing, thereby allowing us to anticipate not only what the target group might do on its own, but what it is likely to do as the situation in which it operates continues to evolve.

Direct Intervention

In contrast to Passive methods, with Active methods we consider altering the actions and attitudes of a target group by either direct intervention or indirect influence.

Identifying a Problem

Once a storyform has been created and analysis and prediction have been employed, an assessment must be made to determine if the target group is currently of a mindset contrary to our interests and/or if it will be in the future.

Before a response can be developed, the specific nature of the problem must be fully defined. Again, the storyform and its component story points offer an accurate mechanism for determining the specific nature of the problem: the story point or story point arrangements that are in conflict with our interests.

Identifying a Solution

Some solutions simply require the alteration of a single story point to a different orientation within the storyform (corresponding to a slight shift in attitude, motivation, or actions by the target group). Often, once the specific nature of the problem is understood, a direct surgical impact on that story point may alter the direction of the story. Modifications to the storyform must be approached with caution, because a single small ill-advised move can sometimes do far more damage than the original problem. More complex problems may require replacing the current storyform with a completely different one.

“What If” Scenarios

Fortunately, Dramatica’s Story Engine allows for altering one or more story points to see the nature of the new storyform that will be created as a result. A large number of alternatives exist by simply altering a few story points, resulting in the ability to game out “what if” scenarios in real time to determine a wide variety of alternatives that would accomplish the same end.

Risk Analysis

By comparing the effectiveness, ramifications, and projected timelines of each alternative storyform solution, it is possible to create an effective risk analysis of each available option to ensure maximum impact with minimum risk.

These alternative storyforms can indicate the kinds of risks involved in each potential response to the problem, as well as the magnitude and likelihood of each risk.

Indirect Influence

Direct intervention may be inadvisable for any number of reasons. Also, if the problem with the target group is its overall attitude, the strength of its motivation, or its unity of purpose, any overt action might prove ineffective or even counter-productive, resulting in a response opposite to that intended.

In such cases, it may be more prudent to exert a gradual influence or series of influences over an extended time. Here again, Dramatica is able to provide tools to know when and for how long to apply specific kinds of visible and/or invisible influence to ultimately obtain the desired changes in the target group’s mindset.

Identifying Problem Qualities and Directions

At times, there may currently be no problem, but the storyform may reveal that, if left unaltered, the course of events will lead the target group into an undesired orientation. This allows for the allocation of our own resources in advance so that we might prevent the Target group from taking that particular course and opting instead for one more consistent with our interests.

Again, the first step is to create a storyform from available data and then determine the qualities of the target group’s story mind that are contrary to desired attributes.

Determining Desired Qualities and Directions

Once the problem qualities and/or directions have been defined, alternative storyforms can be created using “what if” scenarios and risk analysis to determine the best choice for a new storyform we would like to see in place.

This storyform may represent a new state of mind for the target group as a unit, or a different path that will take it through an alternative series of actions than it would otherwise instigate.

Context and the Larger Story

One method of manipulating a target group into a new outlook or attitude is through the subtle placement of the psychological equivalent of shaped charges. Rather that the direct impact of intervention, a number of small, seemingly unconnected exposures to information or manipulated environments can combine to create a single and powerful influence that will provide an immediate course correction to the undesired qualities and directions of the target group.

To effect such a subtle and undetectable influence is possible due to the depth and detail of the Story Engine’s ability to calculate the collective influence of many small magnitude story points on the overall storyform.

Movie Frames

Returning to the “movie frame” concept in a proactive, rather than analytical manner, it is possible to create a series of storyforms, each of which is slightly different that the previous one. As with individuals, the mind of a target group is more open to accepting small changes and establishing a new normal than to larger immediate changes which raise resistance.

Over time, subtle influences can follow a planned arc of change that leads the target to a new mindset, perhaps even diametrically opposed to its original viewpoint.

It is important to recognize that any long-term arc must be constantly updated and adjusted so that new influences are brought to bear to limit or leverage the impact of chaotic influence on the chosen alternative course.

Potential Future Implementations

Currently, the story engine requires manual operators versed in the Dramatica theory for processing and creating storyforms for purposes of Analysis, Prediction, Intervention, and Influence.

In the future, natural language processing can be coupled with the story engine’s operations to bring a degree of automation to the identification of story points using hub theory to locate them in large quantities of raw data.

Influence networks can be employed to determine which story points are likely to belong to the same storyform and to assemble them into alternative storyforms which may co-exist in the same raw data.

Employing a real-time version of Dramatica’s Story Engine could allow for real time analysis of ongoing data flow and indicate new storyforms as soon as they manifest in the mindsets of target groups, alerting operators when existing storyforms have dissolved or altered due to ongoing influences.

Natural language output can provide continuously updated options in time-crucial situations with a series of live “what if” scenario suggestions.

In Summary

The Dramatica Theory of Story and the software that implements the theory in an interactive story engine has, for the last seventeen years, successfully enabled accurate analysis and creation of story structures in motion pictures, novels, stage plays, and all forms of narrative communication.

By identifying the crucial story points in the mindsets of target groups of any size, the Story Engine is equally effective in analyzing and altering a target group’s current and future attitudes and behavior in the real world.

Written June 5, 2011 – Revised June 6, 2011 – Copyright Melanie Anne Phillips

“Ability” in Story Structure

What’s “Ability” have to do with story structure?

If you look in Dramatica’s “Periodic Table of Story Elements” chart (you can download a free PDF of the chart at http://storymind.com/free-downloads/ddomain.pdf ) you’ll find the “ability” in one of the little squares. Look in the “Physics” class in the upper left-hand corner. You’ll find it in a “quad” of four items, “Knowledge, Thought, Ability and Desire”.

In this article I’m going to talk about how Dramatica uses the term “ability” and how it applies not only to story structure and characters but to real people, real life and psychology as well.

To begin with, a brief word about the Dramatica chart itself. The chart is sort of like a Rubik’s Cube. It holds all the elements which must appear in every complete story to avoide holes. Conceptually, you can twist it and turn it, just like a Rubik’s Cube, and when you do, it is like winding up a clock – you create dramatic potential.

How is this dramatic potential created? The chart represents all the categories of things we think about. Notice that the chart is nested, like wheels within wheels. That’s the way our mind’s work. And if we are to make a solid story structure with no holes, we have to make sure all ways of thinking about the story’s central problem or issues are covered.

So, the chart is really a model of the mind. When you twist it and turn it represents the kinds of stress (and experience) we encounter in everyday life. Sometimes things get wound up as tight as they can. And this is where a story always starts. Anything before that point is backstory, anything after it is story.

The story part is the process of unwinding that tension. So why does a story feel like tension is building, rather than lessoning? This is because stories are about the forces that bring a person to chane or, often, to a point of change.

As the story mind unwinds, it puts more and more pressure on the main character (who may be gradually changed by the process or may remain intransigent until he changes all at once). It’s kind of like the forces that create earthquakes. Tectonic plates push against each other driven by a background force (the mantle). That force is described by the wound up Dramatica chart of the story mind.

Sometimes, in geology, this force gradually raises or lowers land in the two adjacent plate. Other times it builds up pressure until things snap all at once in an earthquake. So too in psychology, people (characters) are sometimes slowly changed by the gradual application of pressure as the story mind clock is unwinding; other times that pressure applied by the clock mechanism just builds up until the character snaps in Leap Of Faith – that single “moment of truth” in which a character must decide either to change his ways or stick by his guns believing his current way is stronger than the pressure bought to bear – he believes he just has to outlast the forces against him.

Sometimes he’s right to change, sometimes he’s right to remain steadfast, and sometimes he’s wrong. But either way, in the end, the clock has unwound and the potential has been balanced.

Hey, what happened to “ability”? Okay, okay, I’m getting to that….

The chart (here we go again!) is filled with semantic terms – things like Hope and Physics and Learning and Ability. If you go down to the bottom of the chart in the PDF you’ll see a three-dimensional representation of how all these terms are stacked together. In the flat chart, they look like wheels within wheels. In the 3-D version, they look like levels.

These “levels” represent degrees of detail in the way the mind works. At the most broadstroke level (the top) there are just four items – Universe, Physics, Mind and Psychology. They are kind of like the Primary Colors of the mind – the Red, Blue, Green and Saturation (effectively the addition of something along the black/white gray scale).

Those for items in additive color theory are four categories describing what can create a continuous spectrum. In a spectrum is really kind of arbitrary where you draw the line between red and blue. Similarly, Universe, Mind, Physics and Psychology are specific primary considerations of the mind.

Universe is the external state of things – our situation or envirnoment. Mind is the internal state – an attitude, fixation or bias. Physics looks at external activities – processes and mechanisms. Psychology looks at internal activities – manners of thinking in logic and feeling.

Beneath that top level of the chart are three other levels. Each one provides a greater degree of detail on how the mind looks at the world and at itself. It is kind of like adding “Scarlet” and “Cardinal” as subcategories to the overall concept of “Red”.

Now the top level of the Dramatica chart describe the structural aspects of “Genre” Genre is the most broadstroke way of looking at a story’s structure. The next level down has a bit more dramatic detail and describes the Plot of a story. The third level down maps out Theme, and the bottom level (the one with the most detail) explores the nature of a story’s Characters.

So there you have the chart from the top down, Genre, Plot, Theme and Characters. And as far as the mind goes, it represents the wheels within wheels and the sprectrum of how we go about considering things. In fact, we move all around that chart when we try to solve a problem. But the order is not arbitrary. The mind has to go through certain “in-betweens” to get from one kind of consideration to another or from one emotion to another. You see this kind of thing in the stages of grief and even in Freud’s psycho-sexual stages of development.

All that being said now, we finally return to Ability – the actual topic of this article. You’ll find Ability, then, at the very bottom of the chart – in the Characters level – in the upper left hand corner of the Physics class. In this article I won’t go into why it is in Physics or why it is in the upper left, but rest assured I’ll get to that eventually in some article or other.

Let’s now consider “Ability” in its “quad” of four Character Elements. The others are Knowledge, Thought, Ability and Desire. I really don’t have space in this article to go into detail about them at this time, but suffice it to say that Knowledge, Thought, Ability and Desire are the internal equivalents of Universe, Mind, Physics and Pyschology. They are the conceptual equivalents of Mass, Energy, Space and Time. (Chew on that for awhile!)

So the smallest elements are directly connect (conceptually) to the largest in the chart. This represents what we call the “size of mind constant” which is what determines the scope of an argument necessary to fill the minds of readers or an audience. In short, there is a maximum depth of detail one can perceive while still holding the “big picture” in one’s mind at the very same time.

Ability – right….

Ability is not what you can do. It is what you are “able” to do. What’s the difference? What you “can” do is essentially your ability limited by your desire. Ability describes the maximum potential that might be accomplished. But people are limited by what they should do, what they feel obligated to do, and what they want to do. If you take all that into consideration, what’s left is what a person actually “can” do.

In fact, if we start adding on limitations you move from Ability to Can and up to even higher levels of “justification” in which the essential qualities of our minds, “Knowledge, Thought, Ability and Desire” are held in check by extended considerations about the impact or ramifications of acting to our full potential.

One quad greater in justification you find “Can, Need, Want, and Should” in Dramatica’s story mind chart. Then it gets even more limited by Responsibility, Obligation, Commitment and Rationalization. Finally we end up “justifying” so much that we are no longer thinking about Ability (or Knowledge or Thought or Desire) but about our “Situation, Circumstance, Sense of Self and State of Being”. That’s about as far away as you can get from the basic elements of the human mind and is the starting point of where stories begin when they are fully wound up. (You’ll find all of these at the Variation Level in the “Psychology” class in the Dramatica chart, for they are the kinds of issues that most directly affect each of our own unique brands of our common human psychology.

A story begins when the Main Character is stuck up in that highest level of justification. Nobody gets there because they are stupid or mean. They get there because their unique life experience has brought them repeated exposures to what appear to be real connections between things like, “One bad apple spoils the bunch” or “Where there’s smoke , there’s fire.”

These connections, such things as – that one needs to adopt a certain attitude to succeed or that a certain kind of person is always lazy or dishonest – these things are not always universally true, but may have been universally true in the Main Character’s experience. Really, its how we all build up our personalities. We all share the same basic psychology but how it gets “wound up” by experience determines how we see the world. When we get wound up all the way, we’ve had enough experience to reach a conclusion that things are always “that way” and to stop considering the issue. And that is how everything from “winning drive” to “prejudice” is formed – not by ill intents or a dull mind buy by the fact that no two life experiences are the same.

The conclusions we come to, based on our justifications, free out minds to not have to reconsider every connection we see. If we had to, we’d become bogged down in endlessly reconsidering everything, and that just isn’t a good survival trait if you have to make a quick decision for fight or flight.

So, we come to certain justification and build upon those with others until we have established a series of mental dependencies and assumptions that runs so deep we can’t see the bottom of it – the one bad brick that screwed up the foundation to begin with. And that’s why psychotherapy takes twenty years to reach the point a Main Character can reach in a two hour movie or a two hundred page book.

Now we see how Ability (and all the other Dramatica terms) fit into story and into psychology. Each is just another brick in the wall. And each can be at any level of the mind and at any level of justification. So, Ability might be the problem in one story (the character has too much or too little of it) or it might be the solution in another (by discovering an ability or coming to accept one lacks a certain ability the story’s problem – or at least the Main Character’s personal problem – can be solved). Ability might be the thematic topic of one story and the thematic counterpoint of another (more on this in other articles).

Ability might crop up in all kinds of ways, but the important thing to remember is that wherever you find it, however you use it, it represents the maximum potential, not necessarily the practical limit that can be actually applied.

Well, enough of this. To close things off, here’s the Dramatica Dictionary description of the world Ability that Chris and I worked out some twenty years ago, straight out of the Dramatica diction (available online at http://storymind.com/dramatica/dictionary/index.htm :

Ability • Most terms in Dramatica are used to mean only one thing. Thought, Knowledge, Ability, and Desire, however, have two uses each, serving both as Variations and Elements. This is a result of their role as central considerations in both Theme and Character

[Variation] • dyn.pr. Desire<–>Ability • being suited to handle a task; the innate capacity to do or be • Ability describes the actual capacity to accomplish something. However, even the greatest Ability may need experience to become practical. Also, Ability may be hindered by limitations placed on a character and/or limitations imposed by the character upon himself. • syn. talent, knack, capability, innate capacity, faculty, inherant proficiency

[Element] • dyn.pr. Desire<–>Ability • being suited to handle a task; the innate capacity to do or be • An aspect of the Ability element is an innate capacity to do or to be. This means that some Abilities pertain to what what can affect physically and also what one can rearrange mentally. The positive side of Ability is that things can be done or experienced that would otherwise be impossible. The negative side is that just because something can be done does not mean it should be done. And, just because one can be a certain way does not mean it is beneficial to self or others. In other words, sometimes Ability is more a curse than a blessing because it can lead to the exercise of capacities that may be negative • syn. talent, knack, capability, innate capacity, faculty, inherant proficiency

Word Salad: Slicing and Dicing Story Structure

A writer recently asked:

I’ve read what you wrote about slicing and dicing the Dramatica chart on your web site and in Dramticapedia. It’s very interesting.

Two questions if I may:

* Limiting depth: “When you limit depth, you simple don’t explore one or more aspects of a story: Character, Plot, Theme, or Genre.”

Q: If you don’t explore Plot, you don’t have the signposts. So how does your story move along?

* Limiting breadth: “Two throughlines provide a conflict. But three seems to be one conflict and another superfluous throughline that bounces off nothing.”

Q: In Dramatica I thought 3 throughlines — MC, OC and SS — were necessary to explore the conflict between the main and obstacle characters. I guess I didn’t get that right?

Examples of those two approaches would be great of course!

My reply:

In answer to your question on “Limiting Depth”:

Q: If you don’t explore Plot, you don’t have the signposts. So how does your story move along?

Two points: First, stories may be all about character growth. For example, a character may simply explore their feelings about life, people they know or thematic values and topics. There need be no events, happenings, or progress to illustrate how that character is growing, how the thematic message is evolving or how the genre is adding depth and richness as the story progresses. For example, look to the classic play, Waiting for Godot by Samuel Beckett. In this play there is no plot to speak of, yet the two principal characters progress along lines of growth or at least exploration of their feelings, make thematic points and establish a genre.

Other stories in a similar stream of consciousness style (as also used by Virginia Woolf) while including events, do not concern themselves with creating a full-story meaning for the happenings, but simply a series of random occurrences which transpire. This illustrates a second approach to writing without plot, per se: to have things take place, but not to use them to convey meaning. In such a story, one is not exploring plot – in fact, one has not created a true plot, just sequence of events. These serve to give the characters something to do other than talk, yet are intentionally presented so that the reader or audience understands no message is contained in the jumble of activities. Virginia Woolf’s Orlando is an excellent example of this style.

Also keep in mind that there is a big difference between a tale and a story. A tale is a simple linear progression of characters, plot, theme, and genre. A story uses each scene as a building block in a larger mosaic that creates a “big picture” message. So, even if the events make sense as a logical series of happenings and function well as a tale, this does not mean the events contribute as part of a story’s plot in terms of an overall message. Orlando, at times, does indicate a reason-based progression but its impact has little to do with the growth of the main character or the development of the theme. At most, it adds some elements to the genre, but in the storytelling sense, not structurally.

In answer to your second question on limiting breadth:

Q: In Dramatica I thought 3 throughlines — MC, OC and SS — were necessary to explore the conflict between the main and obstacle characters. I guess I didn’t get that right?

Actually, all three throughlines are indeed necessary to exploring that conflict, but what if you don’t explore the conflict? Suppose you have a one-person show where the Main Character presents just his own reasons for what he did and his own value standards that he questioned in the process. You might explore all four levels of the Main Character throughline without ever mentioning the influence of an Obstacle Character, any Subjective Story conflict between the two, or even an Objective Story involving anyone else.

Or suppose you have just a Obstacle Character explaining, “I had to change his mind… I knew he was on the wrong track. At first I appealed to his reason while sharing the bus together one day on the way to work. Failing any impact from that, I tried another tack, the passionate approach, and tried to invoke some sort of emotional response. And still, nothing.” This could be a wonderful opening to a story that only explored the Obstacle Character throughline without ever describing the Main Character’s point of view or the specific arguments between them.

Now here’s an advanced concept that applies to both Slicing and Dicing:

Just because characters are almost always built from elements doesn’t mean you can’t build them from the other levels of the Dramatica Table of Story Elements. At the level of the Table above the elements are the Variations. Though these are usually employed as the building blocks of the theme, they might equally be represented as characters instead. So, for example, you might have a character representing “hope” or “rationalization” or “wisdom”.

In a Sliced story with only the variation level, you might choose to illustrate the Variations as characters and simply have each stating his or her (or its) belief in the preeminence of the quality it represents. Or, in a Diced story with only one throughline, you could mix it up so that the Variations are represented by characters, the Elements by the plot, the top “Class” level would indicate the thematic issue (such as Physics, external processes, seen as the focus of the theme) and the Types become the Genre components.

Such stories are occasionally told, though they are not popular as they require an awful lot of work by the reader or audience to shift their minds around to see things in that way. It is not impossible, just difficult, and puts a burden of effort on the recipient of the story that normally resides with the author.

Finally, consider that many of the stories told are not really stories but tales. As referenced above, a tale is nothing more than an unbroken chain of events and/or experiences that make logical and/or emotional sense. Tales are free of the restrictions and requirements that bind stories, and so they can be far more free form, make incomplete arguments just for effect, and can include any number of random happenings either for intended impact on the readers/audience or for simple convenience to the author, or for stream-of-consciousness expression as part of the creative effort.

In such a case, any fragment or level of a story structure, sliced or diced, will easily mix into the overall word salad.

Melanie

Descrepencies in Dramatica Terminology?

A Writer recently asked:

Dear Melanie,

I think, if I understand this correctly, that there is an incongruence between the Dramatica software terminology and the book – in that the software calls it the “Main vs. Impact Storyline” whereas the book calls it the “Subjective Storyline”. Am I correct in assuming that both mean the same thing?

Best wishes,

Jens

My reply:

Hi, Jens.

There are a few terms over which I and the other co-creator of Dramatica, Chris Huntley, don’t completely agree.

So, when we teach separate classes, we usually go with what we each think is best. When we teach together, we go with what is in the software because that is how most people come to Dramatica.

Example: “Main vs. Impact Storyline” is the same as the “Subjective Story”. Just different names.

Additionally I don’t use the term Impact Character at all, because this character does not necessarily have any physical impact on anything. In fact, even the old term “Obstacle Character” also seemed to me to give a wrong impression. Chris changed it from Obstacle to Impact to improve it, but in my writings on Dramatica I use the term “Influence Character” because that (to me) more clearly indicates its role as the most influential character over the Main Character in regard to his or her central, personal drive or issue.

For example, the lost diary of a long-missing poet might make that poet the Influence Character for a young Main Character who is a young aspiring poet himself. The Main Character learns from the writings how to avoid self-destruction, to continue the example, and does not commit suicide like his idol does at the end of the diary. There is no “impact” or “obstacle” in this storyline, but a lot of gentle and gradual influence.

But, you did ask the right question in the first place. What is really important is the concept, not the term, and on that Chris and I both agree.

Melanie

Story Perspectives

Another excerpt from the new book I am writing on the Dramatica Theory:

It should be noted that there is a big difference between reading a map and actually traveling the road in person.  While both have value, a map most clearly shows you the terrain; a journey gives you the most immediate experience.

If they are to fully captivate an audience, stories must be able to provide these contrasting perspectives.  In fact, they do so through an Objective View, which is like a wide angle look at the story as a spectator, much as one might watch a football game, and a Personal View which is like that of a participant on the field.

We are all familiar with the Objective View.  From it, we see a Protagonist and an Antagonist as if they are opposing soldiers in a battle.  We watch them fight it out over the effort to achieve a goal.  Sometimes they both want the goal, but only for themselves.  Other times, one wants to attain the goal and the other wants to prevent that.  Either way, though we may very well become all worked up in rooting for one side or the other, we are still sitting in the stands.

In contrast, the Personal View is provided by the Main Character.  We, the readers or audience, walk in his or her shoes and look through his or her eyes.  We experience the story as if it were happening to us.

Often, the Protagonist is chosen by an author to also provide the Main Character View as well, and though that is common, it isn’t the only choice.  Any character can be the Main Character, just as we might attach a helmet-camera to any player on the field.

In addition to providing an avatar for the reader or audience, it is also the Main Character who grapples with some crucial inner problem or personal issue around which the passionate side of the story seems to revolve.

In the Story Mind, the Main Character represents our sense of self – that is, the awareness of our own identity as in “I think, therefore I am.”  Since the Story Mind is modeled after the human mind, it is not surprising that story structure must include such an essential component of being human.

Up to this point, we have referred to the readers or audience as if they were passive recipients of the author’s argument, but they are much more involved than that.  In fact, communication is a collaborative effort and the audience brings its own active participation to the process.

When a story presents an involving Main Character, the audience forgets itself and identifies with that character, heart and soul.  Certainly most of us have had the experience of being sucked into a story to the extent that we laugh when that character is happy and cry when they are hurt, almost as if it were happening to us in real life.

(It is often interesting to watch how many movie-goers recklessly drive out of a parking lot after having enjoyed an action picture, and how many people have dreams that draw on elements of a truly “moving” picture they had seen earlier in the evening.)

When the Protagonist is also selected as the Main Character, you have the beginnings of a typical “Hero,” as in “the hero’s journey.”  While there is nothing wrong with that arrangement, it is much overused, and in fact there are many other interesting stories to be told if those two types of character functions are not placed in the same person.

For example, in both the book and film version of To Kill a Mockingbird, those roles are not combined.  Rather, the character of Atticus (the righteous 1930s Southern lawyer played by Gregory Peck in the movie) is the Protagonist, for it is he who is trying to acquit the black man wrongly accused of raping a white girl.

The Main Character, however, is Atticus’ young daughter, Scout, for the story is told through her eyes – from her point of view.   As the reader/audience identifies with Scout, they are shown how the nature of prejudice appears to an innocent child – something that would not have been possible if the audience identified instead with Atticus.

In fact, there are far more reasons in Mockingbird why the Protagonist and Main Character attributes were split, and we’ll explore them all in the section of this book devoted to characters.  For now, consider that if you have only been creating typical heroes, you may have been limiting yourself from exploring other options.

Now before we leave this brief overview of perspective behind, there are two more critical points of view that need to be included in a story for the readers/audience to become completely involved in the story’s argument.

The first of these is called the Influence (or Obstacle) Character View.  To get a feel for this unfamiliar character, let us think (for a brief moment) of a story as if it were a battle between two great armies, one of them led by the author and the other commanded by the audience.

The author hopes to make a successful story argument in two ways: First, to make his case logically through the “headline” we spoke of at the very beginning of this book and second, through the “heartline” that is its compatriot argument.

On the field of battle, the Protagonist is leading the charge of the logistic argument as he or she attempts to achieve a goal, while the antagonist is rallying the forces of opposition, which include all those other ways of logically solving the situation that the audience might consider as alternatives.  By the end of the story, the author hopes to prove that the Protagonist’s approach is either the best of the worst of them all, depending upon the intended message.

Similarly, the Main Character heads up the passionate argument as he or she attempts to resolve a personal issue, while another character (soon to be introduced) opposes that approach philosophically, and marshals all the passionate arguments contrary to the Main Character’s attitude or approach.  Again, by the end of the story, the author hopes to sway the audience’s feelings to match his or her proposed message.

If successful, by the time the audience leaves the theater or the reader closes the book, the author will have swayed both their hearts and minds.

So who is this unnamed character who stands in philosophic opposition to the Main Character?  To answer that question, let me tell you a tale.

In this war for hearts and minds, the Audience is like a general on the hill, watching the maneuvers below.  (The author sits on a hill on the other side of the valley, pushing forth his argument).  The view from atop the audience’s perch is the Objective View with which we are already familiar – that of the spectator.

Now, imagine that the reader/audience could zoom down onto the field to stand in the shoes of and experience the battle through the eyes of a single soldier in the heart of the clash.  That soldier would provide the Main Character View with which we have also already become acquainted..

And so, to recap, the readers or audience can concurrently see what forces are awaiting the Protagonist and all his forces on the other side of the forest, while through the Main Character they can only see what is right in front of them.

In a nutshell, the General’s Objective View illustrates all the grand strategies and the overall flow of the battle, but the Soldier’s Main Character View gives the first-hand impression of what it is like to try and defend oneself while avoiding the bullets whizzing overhead.

The Main Character,then, is trying to accomplish his mission and save his skin at the same time as he marches forward into the fray when suddenly, through the smoke of dramatic explosions, he spies a murky figure standing right in his path. In this fog of war, the Main Character cannot tell if this other soldier is a friend or foe. Either way, he is blocking the road.

As the Main Character approaches, this other soldier starts waving his arms and shouts, “Change course – get off this road!” Convinced he is on the best path, the Main Character yells back, “Get out of my way!” Again the figure shouts, “Change course!” Again the Main Character replies, “Let me pass!”

The Main Character has no way of knowing if his opposite is a comrade trying to prevent him from walking into a mine field or an enemy combatant trying to lure him into an ambush. And so, he continues on, following the plan that still seems best to him.

Eventually, the two soldiers meet, and when they do it becomes a moment of truth in which only one will win out. Either the Main Character will alter course or his steadfastness will cause the other soldier to step aside.

This other soldier is called the Obstacle (and sometimes Influence or Impact) character. He represents that “devil’s advocate” voice we all have in ourselves that makes us consider changing our ways.

In our own minds we are often confronted by issues that question our approach, attitude, or the value of our hard-gained experience. But we don’t simply adopt a new point of view when our old methods have served us so well for so long. Rather, we consider how things might go if we adopted this new system of thinking.

We look at it, examine it from all sides and ask ourselves, how would my life, my self-image, my identity be if I were to become that kind of person by giving up my old views in favor of this new, unproven one that is only potentially better?

It is a long hard thing within us to reach a point of change, and so too is it a difficult feat in a Story Mind. In fact, it takes the whole story to reach a climax in which all the research has been done that can be done. And even then, both sides of the argument are so well balanced that the Main Character cannot see a definite edge to either.

Since logic cannot help the Main Character decide, he or she must ultimately rely on his or her heart – the culmination of the passionate argument of the heartlien.  This crucial moment leads to those weighty decisions where Main Characters step off the cliff into the darkness, hoping they’ve made the right choice – the classic “Leap of Faith.”

Of course, not all decisions are that cataclysmic. And as we shall later see, there are many other ways the differences between Main Character and Obstacle Character points of view can resolve in a gradual shift of opinion.

But for now, it suffices to acknowledge that a Story Mind that did not include an Objective view, a Main Character view, and an Obstacle Character view could not possibly feel like our own minds in real life as we seek to make the best choices based on our best information and guided by our feelings.

Many novice authors fashion only the first two points of view (Objective and Main Character), believing that providing an epic panorama and also a personal view is enough. But more experienced authors recognize the need to show an alternative philosophy to that of the Main Character, and they therefore include the Obstacle Character as well. But a surprisingly small percentage of authors ever realize that a fourth perspective is necessary or a story will feel incomplete.

What is that final view point? It is the actual passionate argument between the Main Character and the Obstacle Character that runs the length of the story, right up to the climax. You would think that if an Obstacle Character is included, that duel over philosophic ideals  would almost unavoidably occur in the course of the story.  In fact, this is not the case.

As an example, the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas has an overall Objective story, a Main Character with a problem, and an Obstacle Character.  Yet for all that, it is lacking any real interaction between Main and regarding their opposing views.  They simple take positions, describe them, and let it stand at that.

Specifically, in “Nightmare,” Jack Skellington is not happy with his true nature.  This is the Main Character View.  His girlfriend states that he should be content with who he actually is, and not to try and be something that really isn’t him.  (This is the Obstacle Character View).

Jack will have none of it, and sets a plan in motion (kidnapping Santa Claus) that causes all the problems of the story.  (This is the Objective View).  In the end, he realizes she was right and resolves from now on to be the best of what he truly is.  (This is the message.)

But the problem is that they never discuss these differing philosophies. They simply state their opposite beliefs and in the end, Jack changes course and she remains on the road where she started.

Though there is a message, without the give and take between the Main and Obstacle we are given no information on how to achieve that change of heart within ourselves. The author makes no passionate argument as to the pros and cons of either position.  So the message is simply acknowledged as being noble, but it isn’t personalized or taken to heart by the readers or audience.  As it is, the movie is strong.  If this other perspective has been included, it would have been even stronger.

This fourth perspective is called the Subjective View. It is the story of the battle over philosophies, the war of ideals, that explores the value of each belief system fully and completely, testing one against the other and pitting them against each other in all contexts. Only if this is seen in the Story Mind does it satisfy the part of the minds of the readers or audience that do the same thing when they consider changing their feelings in regard to an issue.  Only through the Subjective View will the audience become convinced that the message is of real value to them.

So, these four perspectives – Objective, Main, Obstacle, and Subjective are all required for a story structure to both make sense and feel complete. They likely seem pretty strange and unfamiliar in contrast to your usual way of approaching stories.  Fortunately, there is a much simpler way to get in touch with them.

The Main Character View comes across to us as the “first person” perspective: “I” (This is what I believe).  The Obstacle Character’s philosophy appears to us as “You” (That is what you believe). We consider the personal skirmish between himself and the Obstacle character as defining “We” (This is where we are coming from).  And finally, we see what all the other characters are doing in the overall story as “They” (That is what they are doing).

I, You, We, and They – the simpler, familiar equivalents of Main Character View, Obstacle Character View, Subjective View, and Objective View. They are the four perspectives we have in real life, in our own minds, and they must all be represented in stories through the Story Mind if an author is to successfully press home both the logistic and passionate arguments to the readers or audience.

Structure and Dynamics

When we pull away the curtain of storytelling we finally get a good look at the dramatic mechanism behind it.  And one of the first things we notice is that it actually has two parts: dramatic components (such as the goal) and dramatic processes (such as character growth).  For clarity, Dramatica refers to the components as Structure and the processes as Dynamics.

Structure by itself delineates the building blocks of dramatics and how they can be assembled together, as if we were constructing a machine, while dynamics put that machine in motion and describe how it works and what it does.  Taken together, structure and dynamics outline the psychology of the Story Mind.

As described earlier, the Story Mind is a projection of the workings of the human mind, materialized in an author’s argument.   In our own minds, for example, we all have goals.  And so, we would expect stories have goals as well, and they do.

Having goals is a quality of all people, but we don’t always have the same kind of goal – that is part of what makes us different.  And so it is with stories – while they all have goals, the particular kind of goal is part of what makes one story structure different from another.

Similarly, in terms of mental processes, we all grow but we grow in different areas.  So again, we would expect stories to also illustrate growth, yet the particular area in which growth takes place would partially delineate one structure from another.  And it is so.

Guided by these concepts, we looked to both the human mind and the subject matter of stories and set about creating a list of different kinds of goals and areas of growth (among other dramatic concepts which we shall explore later).

Eventually, we had compiled quite a set of topics.  It quickly became apparent that many of them shared certain general qualities, so we created a table that grouped and organized them in families.

The Dramatica Table of Story Elements

  Flat Projection 

  3D Projection

The Dramatica Table of Story Elements is not unlike the Periodic Table of Elements in chemistry. With it, you can create the chemistry of your characters, plot, theme, and genre.

One of the first things you might notice is that the flat projection on the left really does look a lot like the familiar Periodic Table.  The 3D projection on the right, however, is likely a bit more unfamiliar.

The reason there are two versions is that the flat projection makes it easier to see how the elements of story fall into families in the structure while the 3D projection will help us when we explore how story dynamics twist and turn the Table like a Rubik’s Cube to wind up the dramatic potentials that drive story.

So, as you can see already, the Dramatica Table incorporates both the structure that comprises the story’s topics and the dynamics that move them around to make the author’s argument.  This is important to note in order to dispel any erroneous first impressions the Table might give that Dramatica is a fixed mechanical system, when in fact (as we shall see in chapters to come) it is completely fluid and organic.

Structure

No doubt you’ve noticed the prominent words Universe, Physics, Mind and Psychology on the Dramatica Table.  These represent the four fundamental families of topic areas that might exist in a story’s argument.  For this overview we’ll introduce each of them briefly, and fully explore them in chapters to come.

First, a word about the terminology itself: You may think that the terms Universe, Physics, Mind, and Psychology, are a little antiseptic, perhaps a bit too scientific to be applying them to something as intuitive as the writing of stories.  We think so too.

But back when we were naming the concepts in the structure of the Story Mind, we were faced with a choice – to either use extremely accurate words that might be a bit off-putting or to use easily accessible words that weren’t quite on the mark.

Ultimately we decided that the whole point of the Dramatica theory was to provide an accurate way of predicting the necessary components of a sound story structure. Therefore, we elected to use the terms that were more accurate, even if they required a little study, rather than to employ a less accurate terminology that could be grasped right away.  Sorry about that.

Since we’re both stuck with all these names, let’s see if we can illuminate what those first four terms really mean (and what they can do for us) so as to provide an initial feel for the nature and usefulness of the Dramatic Table, before we move on to other things.

Each of the four terms describes one of the basic families of topics that might be explored in a story’s argument.

Universe is an external state (any fixed situation)

Physics is an external process (any kind of activity)

Mind is an internal state (any fixed attitude)

Psychology is an internal process (any manner of thinking)

So, what the Table is telling is that whatever story argument you might want to make can be classed as being about an external or internal state or an external or internal process.

To get a feel for this, try it in real life.  Think about any issue or kind or growth you have encountered.  No matter what it is, it can best be classified as an external or internal state or process.  (Whenever you want to better understand a story concept, it often helps to try it in the real world.)

Right off the bat this four-family approach is a very useful concept.  It allows us to take the whole world of arguments we might wish to make in a story and pare it down into one of four broad categories.  In one stroke, we are able to eliminate three fourths of the issues we might have had to explore in our story’s argument and can focus all our efforts on the real case we wish to make.

Universe stories are about the unchanging elements of our external environment. Anything that is a fixed situation falls into this category. For example, being stuck in a well, being held captive, or having only one eye are all situational “Universe Class” arguments.

Physics stories, on the other hand, are all about activities. Honey bees dying off across the country, the growth of a militant organization, and the progress of a cancer are all “Physics Class” arguments.

Mind stories are the internal equivalent of Universe – a fixed internal state. So, any prejudice, bias, fixation, or fixed attitude would be the kinds of issues explored in “Mind Class” story arguments.

Psychology is the Physics of the mind – an internal process.  A “Psychology Class” story would be about someone who makes a series of assumptions leading to difficulties, or someone whose self-image and confidence are eroding, for example.

Going into a bit more detail, inside each of those four major families are sub-families into which topics are further sub-divided and then sub-divided again.  Eventually, we get down to the smallest topics or, put another way, the tiniest details in the underlying story argument in a feature length movie or stage play, or in the average book.

(Later, we shall see that the Story Mind actually has a maximum size and learn why, but for now, simply think of the size of the Table as being sufficient for the typical full-length story.)

Naturally, a full explanation of how to apply the Table to story development will be the subject of a great number of the chapters to follow, but to continue this brief introduction to what lies behind the curtain of storytelling let us now turn our attention to the 3D projection of the chart.

Dynamics

Imagine that you printed out the flat projection of the Dramatica Table onto a piece of paper, then crumpled that paper into a ball in a random fashion.  If you could look inside that ball, you’d see that some of the items in the Table come into close contact, while others may be separated by many layers of crunched paper.

This is a rough analogy to how a human mind, starting out all nice and balanced, is rearranged by the experiences and inequities of life. It also illustrates how a perfectly happy and contented Story Mind manages to get all bent out of shape and full of dramatic potential.

If you were to print out five copies of the Table (or five hundred) and crumple them one at a time, you’d find that while some of them may share a few dramatic conjunctions, no two are exactly alike.  In fact, you could arrange them almost like a spectrum of all the different kinds dramatic potential that can be created from that original potential-free Table.

Now rather than crumpling a new chart each time you wanted a new story structure (and a random one at that), what if you made a master list of all the possible ways that  the items in the chart might come together and then simply plotted them on a nice flat uncrumpled Table?

That’s pretty much the purpose and function of the 3D projection of the Dramatica Table of Story Elements.  As you see in the illustration at the head of this section, the 3D projection appears orderly and stable.  But looks can be deceiving….

When we first created the Table, we tried plotting on it these different dramatic items (like goal) and progressions (like character growth).  Sure enough, there were patterns.  Some patterns looked like circles.  Others looked like the letter “N” or “Z” as we followed how one topic gave way to the next over scenes, sequences, and acts.  And still others resembled a hairpin.  And there were scores of such patterns scattered all over the Table even for just one story structure.

Though we could clearly see we were on the right track, it soon became evident that there were no obvious “rules” that dictated where and when which pattern would best describe the dramatic relationships in a particular story: at least, due to the complexity of the patterns, none that we could readily see.

And then we had a breakthrough.  It occurred to us that rather than plotting complicated dramatic patterns on a fixed and static Table, what if we continually rearranged the table itself so that the patterns became simple?

You see, the flat table we had created was just a visualization of what was going on in the story’s psychology.  For structural purposes, the flat projection works best because it makes it easiest to see such things as how goals and the requirements needed to meet them are related to a character’s motivations, for example.  In other words, the flat projection works best for plotting the relationships among the components of structure.

But to understand story dynamics, you need to stop thinking of the families just as groups and see them more like spokes on a wheel.  Then, you can much more easily observe dramatic progressions, such as character growth, by the turning of the wheels in each specific area of growth.

And so, the 3D projection of the chart was born to show how all the families and sub-families of dramatic topics functioned like wheels within wheels.  This new view enabled us to show how an obstinate character who refuses to change perhaps causes the wheels to rotate in one direction while a character who embraces change rotates them in another.

(Now keep in mind nothing is really rotating here – it is just a handy way to visualize how dramatic items come in and out of conjunction based on the kinds of pressures that are applied to the Story Mind’s psychology.)

In addition, we discovered that the items in each family could also flip or exchange positions.  As an example, think about a character or a real person who tries everything he or she can to solve a problem with logic, only to ultimately realize they must follow their heart.  In that case, they have essentially substituted feelings for logic or, in a sense, those two qualities have exchanged positions with feeling now becoming their motivation or drive instead of logic.

On the Dramatica Table, this can be represented by actually flipping the relative positions of logic and feeling (both of which terms appear in one of the families, by the way).

And so, each family can flip and/or rotate like a wheel as well.  And in this way, the Dramatica Table is able to not only plot but also to analyze the effect of dramatic pressures on the story mind.  And even more usefully, the Table can also predict such things as whether a character should change or remain obstinate in order to create a particular kind of dramatic effect.

This, then, is the real power of the Table.  It can be used both for analysis of structures to find holes and inconsistencies, but can also be used for the creation of structures to ensure consistent completeness.

Of course, that is all pretty sophisticated stuff that is enough to make your head spin (and flip).  And that is why we programmed it all into a Story Engine that became the heart of the Dramatica story development software.

But this book isn’t about the software – just the story theory behind it.  So, suffice it to say in this introductory chapter that, in the end, the Dramatica Table is very detailed and very powerful, yet when all is said and done, the Table is just a map of dramatic topics and the story’s dynamics are what drive the reader or audience on a journey across that territory.

Problem, Symptom, and Critical Flaw

A writer recently sent these questions.  First, their letter, then my response:

Kris:

I’ve been following Dramatica for almost a year now and when you think you’ve got everything sorted out, something comes along to make you question what you thought you knew!  In Dramatica some of the traits you have for the Main Character are :

  • Critical Flaw
  • Problem
  • Symptom

The reason I’m lost is how does this relate to other theories talking about a main character just having a need and a want (aside from their external goal)? I get that the ‘need’ is Dramatica’s ‘solution’ but what is the ‘want”s (their superficial want right at the beginning of the story) equivalent in Dramatica’s terms? They talk about the ‘want’ as being something main characters usually overcome in realisation that they have a much deeper inner need which is fueling this ‘want’. I was thinking that Critical Flaw maybe this ‘want’ because it hinders their progress but main character’s don’t overcome their Critical Flaw do they? Otherwise you’d have a character who could overcome their external problem, internal problem AND critical flaw – that seems like too much of a stretch.

I guess what i’m asking is if you could help enlighten me on what a main character’s (external/superficia/what-they-think-will-solve-the-problem) ‘want’ is in Dramatica terms? Is it the Symptom? (If that’s the case then – e.g. in the Social Network, the main character’s ‘Symptom’ is to get into one of the elite Harvard clubs when you could argue his ‘Solution’ is to get back with his ex-girlfriend which he doesn’t seem to realize truly until the end of the film)

Any help would be greatly appreciated,
Kris

My response: 

Hi, Kris.
The Main Character isn’t driven by a single source but by the combination of several different story dynamics.
 
For example, the Problem represents the source motivation for the character.  The word “problem” is misleading, as it really is the drive they have, which is only a problem if it is misplaced or inappropriate.
 
The “critical flaw” on the on other hand, is a thematic item – the counterpoint to the “unique ability”.  Dramatically (and psychologically), the unique ability is the quality that makes the Main Character uniquely able to determine whether the effort to achieve the goal will end in success or failure.  It does not mean the MC must even be directly involved in the quest – simply that they hold the key to success or failure in that venture through their action or inaction.  Critical flaw is the MC quality that either undermines their ability to employ their unique ability or that undoes their unique ability accomplishments after the fact.
 
As an example, we all know MCs about whom we say, “If they would only XXXXX, then they could solve the problem.  “XXXXX” is what their unique ability would have them do, but their critical flaw is what holds them back from doing it.  Or, another MC about whom we say, “Great.  Problem solved.  Now if only they won’t XXXXX this time.”  In this case, the critical flaw comes in to wipe out the gains made through using their unique ability.
 
As for the “symptom” you mention, there is really a quad of items that primarily drive the MC – the Problem, Solution, Focus, and Direction.  They are the equivalents of a Disease, Cure, Symptom, and Treatment for the symptom.  And so, an MC will not see his or her real drive (or problem) because they are Focused on the symptom.  In response, they pursue the Treatment for that symptom by moving in a particular Direction.  In the end, they will either treat the symptom until that relieves the situation enough for the problem to cure itself, or they will realize the problem is just getting worse, see it for what it is, and address it directly with the cure.  That is, of course, if they ultimately are to succeed.  If they continue treating the symptom when a cure is needed, they will fail, just as if they keep searching for a cure when there really is none, and should have simply kept treating the symptom until the problem can resolve itself.
 
Hope this helps.
 
Melanie
Storymind

The Dramatica Chart

The Dramatica Theory

A Conversation on Story Structure

by Melanie Anne Phillips

1.4 The Dramatica Chart

As a part of that book, we developed the Dramatica Chart of Story Elements which is not unlike the Periodic Table of Elements in chemistry. With it, you can create the chemistry of your characters, plot, theme, and genre.

Nonetheless, in chemistry it is not only knowing what the elements are but understanding how they can be put together that allows a chemist to design all of the amazingly varied substances we have today.  So fortunately, the Dramatica theory did not stop with the chart, but when on to discover and organize the dynamics of story as well.  We’ll cover these in later chapters, but for now a brief introduction to the structural side of Dramatica is that point at hand.

The Dramatica Chart

  Flat Projection

  3D Projection

The Dramatica chart lists and organizes all the psychological processes that must exist in a Story Mind (that, in fact, exist in the human mind).  The first thing you might notice is that the flat projection on the left really does look a lot like the familiar Periodic Table of Elements.  The 3D projection on the right is likely a lot more unfamiliar.

The reason there are two versions is that the flat projection makes it easier to see how the elements of story fall into families while the 3D projection will help us later when we explore how story dynamics twist and turn the model like a Rubik’s Cube to wind up the dramatic potentials that drive story.

At its most simple level, the chart can be seen as having four principal areas (called classes): Universe, Physics, Mind, and Psychology. These represent the four fundamental kinds of problems that might exist in stories (or in life!)

Universe is an external state (any fixed situation)

Physics is an external process (any kind of activity)

Mind is an internal state (any fixed attitude)

Psychology is an internal process (any manner of thinking)

Essentially, whatever problem you might confront can be classed as either an external or internal state or an external or internal process.

Right off the bat this is a very useful concept.  It allows us to take the whole world of problems we might encounter in a story and initially classify them into one of four broad categories.  In one stroke, we are able to eliminate three fourths of the issues we might have had to explore and can center our search for solutions in a much smaller realm.

In later chapters, we’ll use the chart to continue to refine the nature of the story’s problem by sub-categorizing its nature into smaller and smaller sub-families in the chart until we get down to its elemental nature (the smallest units in the flat projection which also appear on the very bottom level of the 3D projection.

But for now, let us focus on those four broad categories at the very top of the chart so that we can get a sense for how the Dramatica organizes the elements of story.

Universe then is our external environment. Anything that is a problematic fixed situation falls into this category. For example, being stuck in a well, being held captive, or missing a leg are all situational “Universe Class” problems.

Physics, on the other hand, is all about activities that cause us difficulty. Honey bees dying off across the country, the growth of a militant organization, and the growth of a cancer are all “Physics Class” problems.

Mind is the internal equivalent of Universe – a fixed internal state. So, any prejudice, bias, fixation, or fixed attitude would be the kinds of problems found in the “Mind Class”.

Psychology is the Physics of the mind – an internal process.  A “Psychology Class” problem would be someone who makes a series of assumptions leading to difficulties, or someone whose self-image and confidence are eroding.

In stories, as in real life, we cannot solve a problem until we can accurately define it. So, the first value of the Dramatica Chart is to present us with a tool for determining into which of the four fundamental categories of problems our particular issue falls.

Now you may think that the terms Universe, Physics, Mind, and Psychology, are a little antiseptic, perhaps a bit too scientific to be applying them to something as intuitive as the writing of stories.  We think so too.

Back when we were naming the concepts in the Dramatica Theory, we were faced with a choice – to either use extremely accurate words that might be a bit off-putting or to use easily accessible words that weren’t quite on the mark.

Ultimately we decided that the whole point of the theory was to provide an accurate way of predicting the necessary components of a sound story structure. Therefore, we elected to use the terms that were more accurate, even if they required a little study, rather than to employ a less accurate terminology that could be grasped right away.  Sorry about that.

Returning to the chart itself, the 3D version appears as four towers, each representing one of the four classes we’ve just described and each class having four levels.

As we go down the levels from top to bottom we subdivide each kind of problem into smaller and more detailed categories, thereby refining our understanding of the very particular kind of problem at the core of any given story.

There is far more power, meaning, and usefulness to the Dramatica Chart than so far described, just as the understanding and application of the Periodic Table of Elements doesn’t stop at simply noting that it divides elements into families.

We’ll explore all of these aspects in later chapters, but in this introductory overview, suffice it to say that the Dramatica Chart accurately lists and organizes all of the dramatic elements necessary to contrast any effective story structure.

From The Dramatica Theory

Ideas vs. Theories

One of my pet peeves and personal frustrations is how great ideas – truly revolutionary paradigm shifts – are often lost in the bundled clothing of a larger concept, hypothesis or theory.

A case in point:  In the Dramatica theory of story which I co-created, there are probably several hundred such ground-breaking concepts, but they are all embedded in the overall theory like raisins in rice pudding.

One of these, as an example, is that the Main Character in a story does not have to be a Protagonist.  Main Character is the one the story revolves around passionately, specifically in regard to that character’s point of view on some moral issue (in most uses).  What happens to them, their growth and whether or not they eventually change their world view or point of view is the essence of the Main Character.  The Protagonist, on the other hand, is a functional character in the drama – far more plot-oriented, and does not (as part of their function) have to change or even have a point of view.  Simply, the Protagonist is the guy leading the charge to achieve the overall story goal.

So, you’ve got one person trying to drive toward the goal at all costs and another one trying to work out a personal or moral issue.  Often, these are combined into a single player – a person who does both these jobs at the same time.  That defines a typical “hero”, as in the “hero’s journey.”

While there is nothing wrong with this, the two jobs can also be split into two separate characters, as in To Kill a Mockingbird, wherein the Protagonist is Atticus (the Gregory Peck part in the movie version) but the Main Character (who also, by the way, represents the audience’s position in the story) is his young Daughter, Scout.  It is through her eyes that we explore the meaning of prejudice, and in the end it is she who grows and changes (especially in regard to Boo, to whom she had previously been prejudiced against) whereas Atticus remains the same stalwart upright beacon of moral altruism as when he began.

Now that concept alone – that a hero is really made of two parts – Protagonist and Main Character – is revolutionary.  But its just another drop in the bucket of the Dramatica Theory, which is so damned extensive and detailed and far reaching that people don’t see the trees for the forest.

And that is what truly burns me – all the gems are being overlooked because people are focusing on the ornate treasure box that holds them.

But, this is really just symptomatic of our time.  Sound bites are the new monologues and no one embraces a revolutionary concept unless it can be proven in strict scientific terms and rubber stamped by the scientific community as a whole.

Here’s another one for you:

Dramatica is all about the mind of the story itself, as it the story were a person with its own overall personality and its own overall psychology.  Characters (and plot and theme) are really just aspects or facets of that overall story mind.  And yet, each character must also possess its own complete personality and psychology in order for the audience or reader to identify with it.

Just another drop in the theory bucket, but again, revolutionary.  And SO revolutionary that it has implications far beyond story into the realm of psychology and even physics.  But nobody notices because it is just another part of the explanation of the Dramatica theory, and so it not taken to be worthy of much thought in and of itself.

Here’s why it should be:

The concept basically infers that when people get together in groups, the group will self-organize into a human psychology but one magnitude larger.  And, it even infers that several of those larger harmonic psychologies might cluster together so that they function as an even larger psychology one more magnitude up, with no upward limit.

What a concept!  Nobody ever said that before, at least not to my knowledge. I call it Fractal Pyschology, and you can learn more about it on my you-tube channel for story structure (user name, Storymind) or on my web site for story structure at dramaticapedia.com.

But the point is, to suggest that when people group together, the group itself becomes a viable virtual psychology that can have motivations, neuroses, memories, and aversions – well, that just spits in the face of science, doesn’t it?  Or does it?

And yet, there’s one more inference that comes from this – a question really: If this works in making larger psychologies, might we ourselves be made up of smaller ones?  In essence, does the dynamic fractal relationship hold true in both directions?

Again, I say yes (another revolutionary concept).  In fact, I believe that the functioning of the neurons of the brain, the ganglia, or a plexus – the biochemistry (neurotransmitters), the action potential, the synapse, the boutons and dendrites, all of these items and the functions all operate in a dynamic system that is exactly replicated (dynamically) in the elements and functions of high-level psychology.

Whoa.

Yep, that’s what I said – that if you look at the structure and dynamics of the process of the mind and how they interrelate, you will find that there is an EXACT parallel of that system and the structure and dynamics of lower-level neurobiology.  In other words, each is a dynamic fractal (a systemic harmonic) of the other.

It is my contention that any system generates organizational waves into the ether (for want of a better term).  Essentially, as a system operates, its ripples run through whatever medium surrounds it, and creates harmonic copies of itself by automatically organizing whatever it encounters in that medium by the flow of energy from the ripples.

In short, the mind works the way it does because the brain works the way it does.  And, they systems of the brain, structure and dynamics are identical to the systems of the mind in terms of structure an dynamics.

Lastly – if you take a mental process and treat it as an object, then it becomes a part of the mental structure I’m talking about – a building block like a tinker toy, but it is really a process – just like object-oriented programming.

Now, if you see how those process-objects fit together, how they interrelate and how they function as a machine, you will see that it perfectly matches the objects of the brain (be they physical objects or process objects (such as the firing of the synapse and the period of time after a firing where it cannot fire again even if stimulated, for example) and the way they interrelate and function as a machine.

In other words, you could create a flow chart of the parts and functions of the brain and you could replace every item, ever term, with one pertaining to psychology and you would see the systems would be identical, carbon copies in terms of the elements and their dynamic relationships.

Well, them’s fighting words in science – of this I am sure.  But I am equally sure I am correct, based on twenty years of study of the Dramatica theory and its implications.

But the real point is, Dramatica is just filled with those kinds of insights (as I like to think of them, though I’m sure others may have less complimentary terms for them), yet they are almost completely ignored because everyone keeps focusing on Dramatica as a mechanical imposition on the organic and magical nature of storytelling.

Pisses me off.