Category Archives: Dramatica

Comparing Writing Software Paradigms

The variety of software programs for story development employ different structural paradigms. Each of those programs (with the exception of Dramatica) relies on a variation of the hero’s journey. Truby does it directly, tailored to specific genres, Collaborator relies on Aristotle’s version as laid out in “Poetics.” Power Structure doesn’t rely on one concept or perspective, but still lines things out in “steps” that you can tailor to any “journey-type” approach. New Novelist follows suit.

Essentially, you work on each step independently, referring to what you created in other steps, then string them all together to see what needs to be done when. You end up with a linear list of instructions for writing your story, containing all the specific information you developed along the way.

Dramatica differs insofar as it is NOT based on the Hero’s Journey concept. In fact, when I started Dramatica, I’d never heard of the Hero’s Journey – I was just interested in what made stories tick and set out to discover it for myself. Everyone assumed that’s the direction we were taking – until they actually saw the work. But, the biggest problem people have trying to understand and figure out how to use Dramatica is that they can’t let go of the Hero’s Journey and try to stuff Dramatica into that mold in their mental image of it. Problem is, Dramatica doesn’t fit that mold very well, so they see it as flawed, rather than as an alternative paradigm of story structure.

And what’s worse, StoryWeaver was designed as both a departure and complement to Dramatica, so it is, essentially, the inverse counterpart of something that is NOT the hero’s journey. Try explaining that!

First, a brief paragraph on how Dramatica was designed to tackle story structure, and then an explanation of what StoryWeaver is designed to do…

Okay, here goes… Dramatica in one paragraph… Rather than seeing a linear journey, Dramatica sees a story as a ball of twine, or perhaps more like the scanning lines on a TV screen. Linearly, everything needs to make sense like the hero’s journey – and that defines the audience experience of the story as it unfolds. But in addition, each scanning line ultimately creates the Big Picture – the real meaning of the story. And, of course, both the linear progression and the overall Big Picture meaning are complete connected and dependent upon one another. We feel that the Hero’s Journey only covers the linear, leaving it to the author to try and make the Greater Meaning make sense. What we discovered in Dramatica were the underlying components of story structure that appeared in both the linear and Overview perspectives of story. We spent years documenting them, discovering their almost mathematical relationships, and then building an engine that could calculate the effect on the Overview when the steps in the journey are changed, and vice versa. That is the Story Engine at the heart of Dramatica, and everything else is basically interface, education, and reports. In fact, one of these reports looks only at the linear progression for convenient reference, and that is the report that looks a lot like New Novelist, Blockbuster, Collaborator, and Power Structure.

Well, I did it – Dramatica in one paragraph! (Probably cheated by not breaking the paragraph into smaller sections, though…)

Now, StoryWeaver…

While Dramatica deals with the underlying structure of a story, StoryWeaver deals with the subject matter. Nobody sits down to write a great structure. We write (and audiences and readers come to our work) because of passion – the author to express his or hers, the audience/reader to ignite its own. What makes us passionate is not the structure, but the subject matter – be it a historical romance, a sci-fi epic, or a true-to-life experience.

StoryWeaver looks at the big picture just like Dramatica, but not at the structure. Rather, StoryWeaver helps you build the big-picture of your subject matter.

There are four stages in StoryWeaver. The first is inspiration that helps you describe all the bits and pieces of subject matter you already have, then use them to inspire more material until you have a well-rounded over-all concept for your story, all the characters you need, the key events of the plot, and so on.

Unlike Dramatica and even the Hero’s Journey-type programs, In StoryWeaver you don’t create characters by their dramatic function (such as antagonist, trickster, or dragon.) In StoryWeaver you build the character’s personality – without yet even knowing whether it is a main character, protagonist, antagonist or whatever. StoryWeaver deals first with the person – what’s he or she like, what do they like to do, what kind of attitude do they have, and so on.

Plot-wise, StoryWeaver is not concerned with steps in a journey or even with Dramatica’s inter-related structure of Goals, Requirements, and Sign Posts. Rather, StoryWeaver is focused on what the plot is ABOUT. What is it that really excites you about the plot; what would you like to see happen? What interesting concepts can you come up with to fill in areas where you plot isn’t yet complete? And StoryWeaver helps you do all this.

The final big difference between StoryWeaver and ANY of the other programs, Dramatica included, (and also what I think is truly revolutionary about StoryWeaver) is that you constantly build on the work you’ve already done for the story as a whole, rather than working on each piece or step independently and then assembling them together.

The New Novelist report you sent shows Step 1, and then describes what ought to happen there and shows what you wrote to accommodate this step. Then, the report moves on to Step 2 and so on. In this way, it seeks to be a blueprint for your story.

But in StoryWeaver, it takes the global perspective of Dramatica, shifts the focus to subject matter and works on the overall Big Picture through a series of “Developmental” steps. So, each step is not a plot point in the story, but a creative step in the Author’s Journey of getting the story told.

You see, before StoryWeaver, I realized that all the other programs out there were concerned with having the author work out the order of events and their meanings in his or her story. But there really wasn’t anything that helped the author know what to do next in his or her own creative process!

The departure, then, is that StoryWeaver presents a series of 175 questions that move the AUTHOR one step closer to a completed story. Each step deals with the WHOLE store. You work out a few details, work them into a brief synopsis, then add more details and re-write the synopsis. The StoryWeaver path is a series of re-writes, developing a bit more of your story and then blending it into the already written work, making it stronger, richer, better.

So, when you arrive at the end of StoryWeaver, you don’t get a blueprint for a story that you then need to write – in fact, you’ve already written it. You end up with a detailed treatment for your story that reads like the finished story without all the word-play. It doesn’t tell you what to do, it has already done it. It is a story that is told as it unfolds, filled with all the details you have developed, unfurling paragraph by paragraph, all in your own words, from beginning to end.

This final treatment is a descriptive narrative that relates the story in a conversational way. Everything is there, but not yet ratcheted up for style. So by the time you finish StoryWeaver’s path, the only thing left to do is re-word your treatment to make the words sing, limited only by your ability as a storyteller.

For example, StoryWeaver’s final treatment might read, in part:

“John enters the room, slamming the door behind. He storms over to Lydia and shouts, “Why?!””

You would take that final treatment and re-write it to be more literary, in the manner of:

“Like an explosion, John burst into the room, slamming the door so hard the paint cracked around the hinges. Gasping heavily with anger, he zeroed in on Lydia as if she were a target and shouted with the cry of the damned, “Why?!” His bellowing scream rattled the chandelier. In the silence that followed, a lone paint chip drifted lazily down from one of the cracked hinges, shaken loose by his invocation.”

Therefore, the reports in StoryWeaver are quite different than in any other program. You do get information on every question you answered, but you also get something none of the others have – a complete story, already told in your own word in a perfunctory manner, ready to be embellished with your style.

Well, I hope I’ve adequately explained the “vision” I’ve had for StoryWeaver, and what I believe makes it more creative and more author-friendly than anything previously available.

And, of course, I decided to sell it at $29.95 because, quite frankly, I think most writing software is overpriced by a factor of 5, and writers generally have a lot of passion, not a lot of money.

In future versions we’ll be adding all kinds of creative aids, like time-lines and index cards, as well as a variety of reports should the author want to examine any aspect of his or her story in detail. But all that is just support material for the prime function, which is to keep the author excited about the story by focusing on the subject matter, rather than the structure, and to be a step-by-step guide through the entire creative process of developing and telling a story, rather than focusing on the steps in a Hero’s Journey.

Dramatica Definition: Obstacle Character’s Direction

Obstacle Character’s Direction • [Element] • The direction of the Obstacle Character’s efforts • An Obstacle Character can never be sure if what he believes to be the source of his problem really is the source of his problem. Regardless, based on his way of seeing things, he will determine a potential solution or Direction in which he hopes to find the solution. The dramatic unit that describes what a Subjective Character believes is the path to a solution is his Direction.

From the Dramatica Dictionary

Dramatica Definition: Obstacle Character’s Critical Flaw

Obstacle Character’s Critical Flaw • [Variation] • The item that undermines the Obstacle Character’s unique ability to impact the Main Character • The Obstacle Character’s Critical Flaw undermines his effectiveness against the Main Character in general, but especially in regards to his Unique Ability. The Obstacle Character in any story has a Unique Ability which makes him uniquely qualified to thwart the Main Character. But in his character as well is a Critical Flaw which prevents him from just totally overwhelming the Main Character. This is again a trait which is unique to this particular character.

From the Dramatica Dictionary

Throughlines (and how to use them!)

Some time ago I described the difference between the two basic forms of story structure with the following phrase:

You spin a tale, but you weave a story.

The common expression “spinning a yarn” conjures up the image of a craftsperson pulling together a fluffy pile into a single unbroken thread. An appropriate analogy for the process of telling a tale. A tale is a simple, linear progression – a series of events and emotional experiences that leads from point A to point B, makes sense along the way, and leaves no gaps.

A tale is, perhaps, the simplest form of storytelling structure. The keyword here is “structure.” Certainly, if one is not concerned with structure, one can still relate a conglomeration of intermingled scenarios, each with its own meaning and emotional impact. Many power works of this ilk are considered classics, especially as novels or experimental films.

Nonetheless, if one wants to make a point, you need to create a line that leads from one point to another. A tale, then, is a throughline, leading from the point of departure to the destination on a single path.

A story, on the other hand, is a more complex form of structure. Essentially, a number of different throughlines are layered, one upon another, much as a craftsperson might weave a tapestry. Each individual thread is a tale that is spun, making it complete, unbroken, and possessing its own sequence. But collectively, the linear pattern of colors in all the throughlines form a single, overall pattern in the tapestry, much as the scanning lines on a television come together to create the image of a single frame.

In story structure, then, the sequence of events in each individual throughline cannot be random, but must be designed to do double-duty – both making sense as an unbroken progression and also as pieces of a greater purpose.

You won’t find the word, “throughline” in the dictionary. In fact, as I type this in my word processor, it lists the word as misspelled. Chris Huntley and I coined the word when we developed the concept as part of our work creating the Dramatica theory (and software). Since then, we have found it quite the useful moniker to describe an essential component of story structure.

Throughlines then, are any elements of a story that have their own beginnings, middles, and ends. For example, every character’s growth has its own throughline. Typically, this is referred to as a character arc, especially when in reference to the main character. But an “arc” has nothing to do with the growth of a character. Rather, each character’s emotional journey is a personal tale that describe his or her feelings at the beginning of the story, at every key juncture, and at the final reckoning.

Some characters may come to change their natures, others may grow in their resolve. But their mood swings, attitudes, and outlook must follow an unbroken path that is consistent with a series of emotions that a real human being might experience. For example, a person will not instantly snap from a deep depression into joyous elation without some intervening impact, be it unexpected news, a personal epiphany, or even the ingestion of great quantities of chocolate. In short, each character throughline must be true to itself, and also must take into consideration the effect of outside influences.

Now that we know what a throughline is, how can we use it? Well, right off the bat, it helps us break even the most complex story structures down into a collection of much simpler elements. Using the throughline concept, we can far more easily create a story structure, and can also ensure that every element is complete and that our story has no gaps or inconsistencies.

Before the throughline concept, writers traditionally would haul out the old index cards (or their equivalent) and try to create a single sequential progression for their stories from Act I, Scene I to the climax and final denouement.

An unfortunate byproduct of this “single throughline” approach is that it tended to make stories far more simplistic than they actually needed to be since the author would think of the sequential structure as being essentially a simple tale, rather than a layered story.

In addition, by separating the throughlines it is far easier to see if there are any gaps in the chain. Using a single thread approach to a story runs the risk of having a powerful event in one throughline carry enough dramatic weight to pull the story along, masking missing pieces in other throughlines that never get filled. This, in fact, is part of what makes some stories seem disconnected from the real world, trite, or melodramatic.

By using throughlines it is far easier to create complex themes and layered messages. Many authors think of stories as having only one theme (if that). A theme is just a comparison between two human qualities to see which is better in the given situations of the story.

For example, a story might wish to deal with greed. But, greed by itself is just a topic. It doesn’t become a theme until you weigh it against its counterpoint, generosity, and then “prove” which is the better quality of spirit to possess by showing how they each fare over the course of the story. One story’s message might be that generosity is better, but another story might wish to put forth that in a particular circumstance, greed is actually better.

By seeing the exploration of greed as one throughline and the exploration of generosity as another, each can be presented in its own progression. In so doing, the author avoids directly comparing one to the other (as this leads to a ham-handed and preachy message), but instead can balance one against the other so that the evidence builds as to which is better, but you still allow the audience to come to its own conclusion, thereby involving them in the message and making it their own. Certainly, a more powerful approach.

Plot, too, is assisted by multiple throughlines. Subplots are often hard to create and hard to follow. By dealing with each independently and side by side, you can easily see how they interrelate and can spot and holes or inconsistencies.

Subplots usually revolve around different characters. By placing a character’s growth throughline alongside his or her subplot throughline, you can make sure their mental state is always reflective of their inner state, and that they are never called upon to act in a way that is inconsistent with their mood or attitude at the time.

There are many other advantages to the use of throughlines as well. So many, that the Dramatica theory (and software) incorporate throughlines into the whole approach. Years later, when I developed StoryWeaver at my own company, throughlines became an integral part of the step-by-step story development approach it offers.

How do you begin to use throughlines for your stories? The first step is to get yourself some index cards, either 3×5 or 5×7. As you develop your story, rather than simply lining them all up in order, you take each sequential element of your story and create its own independent series of cards showing every step along the way.

Identify each separate kind of throughline with a different color. For example, you could make character-related throughlines blue (or use blue ink, or a blue dot) and make plot related throughlines green. This way, when you assemble them all together into your overall story structure, you can tell at a glance which elements are which, and even get a sense of which points in your story are character heavy or plot or theme heavy.

Then, identify each throughline within a group by its own mark, such as the character’s name, or some catch-phrase that describes a particular sub-plot, such as, “Joe’s attempt to fool Sally (or more simply, the “Sally Caper.”). That way, even when you weave them all together into a single storyline, you can easily find and work with the components of any given throughline. Be sure also to number the cards in each throughline in sequence, so if you accidentally mix them up or decide to present them out of order for storytelling purposes, such as in a flashback or flash forward, you will know the order in which they actually need to occur in the “real time” of the story.

Once you get started, its easy to see the value of the throughline approach, and just as easy to come up with all kinds of uses for it.

Dramatica Definition: Obstacle Character’s Concern

Obstacle Character’s Concern • [Type] • The area of the Obstacle Character’s principal cares, interests, and goals; the area of the Obstacle Character’s greatest impact on the Main Character • The Obstacle Character will be interested in achieving some degree of growth or control over things described by this appreciation. This could be in terms of concrete or abstract things, depending partly on the Obstacle Character’s Domain and partly on the twist the author wants to put on that Domain.

From the Dramatica Dictionary

Dramatica Definition: Obstacle Character’s Benchmark

Obstacle Character’s Benchmark • [Type] • The standard against which the Obstacle Character’s degree of impact is measured • The way of telling how much the Obstacle Character is affecting the Main Character is seen through this measuring stick. It can be subtle or obvious, illustrated perhaps by the number of empty beer cans next to an alcoholic’s bed, the severity of a facial tick, or the amount of perfume a character puts on. However it is illustrated, it needs to be there to give both the audience and the Obstacle Character some way of judging how effective his impact is and how much energy he has left to employ.

From the Dramatica Dictionary

Dramatica Definition: Obstacle Character

Obstacle Character • [Subjective Character] • The Subjective Character that forces the Main Character to face his personal problem • Every Main Character has a single Obstacle Character that forces him to face his personal problems. From the Main Character’s point of view, the Obstacle Character may seem to be blocking the road to the solution of the Main Character’s personal problem, or he may seem to be trying to knock the Main Character off the road to the solution. In a more objective view, the Obstacle Character functions to block the Main Character from sweeping his personal problem under the carpet, forcing the Main Character to address it directly. In every act, a story problem is introduced that requires the Main Character to expose his personal problem in order to solve the story problem. It is the Obstacle Character that creates the most personal tension for the Main Character. Frequently, the Main Character is chosen by the author to be the Protagonist as well, and often the Obstacle Character function is combined with the Guardian or the Contagonist. In this way, they each do double duty as prime movers of both the objective and subjective concerns of the story. This arrangement is not essential, however, and in many cases it is prudent to assign the Main and Obstacle Character roles to characters other than the Protagonist and Guardian/Contagonist in order to clearly explore the relationship between the Objective and Subjective problems of the story.

From the Dramatica Dictionary