Category Archives: Narrative Science

What is Narrative?

Narrative is not an artificial construct imposed on fiction nor on the real world, but it is a description of the ways of the mind beneath the level of subject matter. In a sense, narrative describes the operating system of the mind before a program is loaded.

As an example, consider that we all possess certain fundamental human qualities such as a sense of Reason, Conscience, and Skepticism to name a few. When faced with problems or inequities in our own lives, we bring all of these qualities to bear in order to seek a solution to the problem and/or see balance to an inequity.

When we come together in groups around a issue of common interest or a common purpose, we quickly self-organize into specialties so that one of use becomes the Voice of Reason for the group, while another becomes the Conscience of the group and yet another emerges at the Resident Skeptic, for example.

This occurs because the group purpose is best served when one person spends all his or her time delving deeply into the issue from the viewpoint of Reason while another focuses solely on examining the issue with Skepticism. Then, we come together to report our findings. In this way, the group sees far deeper into the issue that if we all worked as we do on our own problems, as General Practitioners, each trying to do all the same jobs everyone else is doing.

Something wonderful happened when storytellers sought to understand what goes on in our own hearts and minds and what goes on with our collective interactions. Over hundreds of generations, storytellers (through trial and error) were able to document the patterns of group thought and individual thought and embed them in the conventions of story structure.

Narrative then, is not a linear path of logic as in Joseph Campbell’s “Hero’s Journey,” but it is fractal in nature. The group mind is identical in components and operation to that of the individual mind, just one fractal dimension larger than that of the individual.

This is why story structure was not previously decipherable – you can’t explain a nonlinear system with a linear paradigm.

The archetypes in stories are derived from these roles we adopt in the group mind which in turn represent our own internal qualities. And so, the group mind provides a visible working model of the mind, just as in my youth the Visible Man model showed our internal organs beneath a transparent plastic “Skin.”

Archetypes, then, represent our fundamental qualities and the group mind is an external fractal projection of the operating system of our own internal minds. The group mind (we call it the Story Mind, hence the name of my web site) is not Jung’s collective unconscious, though it is similar in that it the systemic functioning of our minds that we all share in identically as human beings. And archetypes are not mythological, as in Campbell, but are personifications of our internal attributes as expressed through the avatar roles we adopt when we organize as specialists within a group.

In closing, suffice it to say that through narrative, we are able to look into the structure and dynamics of the group mind and see the structure and dynamics within ourselves. And, as a result, narrative holds the key to understanding why we think and feel as we do, and provides the methods and techniques that can solve both our external problems and internal inequities.

Using Dramatica Theory for Interactive Fiction (IF)

My response to a Dramatica user who had questions about using Dramatica Theory for creating narratives for interactive fiction:

Here’s the gist of using Dramatica for IF (we have made a number of presentations on this to various companies over the years, but never resulting in a contract for consulting, as of yet).

At the most basic level, consider how a story appears to an audience after it is completed. It ceases to be a linear experience and becomes a networked experience in which all dramatic elements of the storyform are appreciated at once, rather than revealed over time. Further, when you separate the storytelling sequence of linearity from the story structural temporal progressions of growth, for example, you can appreciate that growth in all its stages at once, after the story has been experienced.

Once an audience leaves a story, though they may replay certain sequences in their minds, they tend to consider the story as a whole – a world in which things happened rather than a pathway that was followed.

Consider, then, the first-person player perspective in a game is not necessarily to provide experiences in a sequence that will bring the MC to the point of potential change, but rather to explore all corners of the Story World until the nature of how all the elements and dynamics at work in that particular storyform are identified and understood.

Also consider just because the player is in first person in the game does not require that the player be the main character. In many stories there is a narrator. Narrators can be passive or active. The player, by choosing in what order to explore the world is much better put in the position of narrator, the interlocutor who determines for himself or herself the order in which the components of the story world are to be explored – much as one might make multiple trips to a buffet table or select items in dim sum and choose the order in which to consume them.

Sure, if one insisted the player were the MC, then you would be locked into a linear experience of being impacted by events and by the Influence Character in a particular order. But an IF in which the player is actually the narrator, then the MC appears from time to time in the story world, having experienced things in the proper order for him to make a choice, but likely in a different order than the player. For example, the MC in the story world shows up and the player says – “Let’s work together and head up to the badlands.” The MC replies, “Already been there, just before the big explosion. Change me in ways I’d rather not talk about, but it made me realize there may be another way of looking at the morality of this whole conflict.” And then he disappears back into the battle.

In this manner, the MC is separated from the Player and can go about his journey of discovery in the proper order.

So, while eliminating the MC may be a technique (as described in some of the propaganda entries in your message thread), I feel that for IF you simply don’t want your player as the MC but definitely want him in the game with the player as self determining narrator.

But, your questions go beyond this in two specific areas: One, how does one handle multiple narratives (storyforms) within the same narrative space and, Two, what about open-system IF worlds in which there is no fixed narrative, just a fixed subject matter story world in which the narrative is either open-ended (never-ending) or is closed but constantly reorganizing itself into a different form.

As for the first question, narratives are fractal by nature (see my articles and videos on narrative psychology). Even within a single narrative there are two fractal dimensions – that of the group mind and that of the individuals within the group mind. As you know, story structure came to be because storytellers were trying to document what goes on in our heads and hearts and also how we relate to one another. Each of us has certain built-in attributes such as Reason and Skepticism (as seen in the Reason and Skeptic archetypes). We use the full complement of these to solve our individual problems. But when we come together in a group to solve or explore an issue of common interest or concern, we immediately begin to specialize so that the individual best at reasoning becomes the Voice of Reason for the group. The most skeptical becomes the group’s resident Skeptic. In this manner, all the fundamental attributes of any individual mind are replicated and represented by individuals in the group mind. In this manner, group issues are explored from all essential sides and in greater depth by the specialists than could be achieved by a group of general practitioners who are all trying to do all the jobs at the same time.

This tendency to form group minds made up of specialists is what was observed by storytellers and documented in the conventions of story structure and is also what forms the basis for the fabric and framework of social interactions.

So, the first fractal dimension is the mind of the individual that is then replicated in the second fractal dimension of the group mind. But, one is not solely a member of a single group. We have one narrative role in our business, another perhaps as a parent, or in our political party, a proud resident of a state, of the nation, or even just as a fan of a particular television program or of a rock star.

Within the narrative space of our lives, we may belong to more than one group mind and these group minds may occupy completely different areas of the narrative space, may move through the narrative space gradually shifting the subject matter with which they deal, may share a sub set of content that is affected by both, may move through each other like galaxies colliding, may pass each other close enough to alter the storyform of each almost gravitationally (dynamically) even though they never actually share the same space, and some narratives may be satellites of other narratives or may be connected in additional levels of fractal association.

On that last point, for example, one may may be a member of a clique that is part of a club that is part of a movement that is part of political organization within a state that is in a collective effort within a country. Like nested dolls, all of what is at the top is determined by all that is at the lower fractal levels, but the top also defines the largest parameters of the group identity and therefore the personal identity of all individual members at the bottom of the fractal hierarchy, while each lower dimension contributes more refined subordinate traits to the lowest level individuals, defining them but also identifying them as different in some ways than other branches within the same general organization.

And so, people become groups and act as archetypes within them, then several groups band together within a larger group mind in which the smaller groups act as archetypes and so on, in a fractal manner, until the group reaches the maximum membership and number of levels it can sustain before collapsing from beneath due to the intrinsic differences of the lowest level members in which personal needs may outweigh allegiance and conformity to group ideals.

As for your second inferred question, storyforms can alter in an unlimited manner due to forces external to the storyform but in the same narrative space. And so, if you begin with a structure and that defines the nature and extent of the narrative, it provides an initial psychological matrix in which the player of an IF might come to be drawn into a game. But even after exploring a small portion of the initial storyform, you can provide choices to your player that would alter the storyform to create a new complete narrative that invalidates the old one. In the real world, we are always tearing down narratives and replacing them with new ones that better fit changing situations in a chaotic world. We may hold onto certain structural relationships in all of our narratives because we have found by experience that there are truisms worth maintaining. But much of what we hold as the principal driving stories of different aspects of our lives (and with different group minds) can be altered by brute force from the outside by a hostile take over, a powerful sub-group that rises to a position of leverage, or even by a change in circumstances such as an earthquake that destroys the power grid.

By nature, we try to maintain as much of the previous narrative as we can, for that is our experience base, but new rules come into play. And so, we accept the new that cannot be changed, then using that as a seed, go on to build a new narrative beginning with the elements from the old that are still possible within the new reality and that are most important to us. We add in as many of our most important narrative pieces as we can within the constraints of the new elements that have been imposed, and then make the best possible remaining new choices to create a new narrative. For without a narrative, we have no framework by which to evaluate our lives and ourselves or even to measure if things are getting better or worse.

So in conclusion (for now) consider that narratives are constantly creating new fractal dimensions at both the top when they form a new larger group mind and at the bottom when an individual department has grown so large it must cease to be an individual and become a group mind by sub-dividing into smaller departments. In addition, they are constantly affect by other narratives in the same narrative space, even to the point of having some of their elements and relationships altered so that the narrative must reform in a new form. And so, the ongoing expansion and contraction of fractals and cascading reformation through forces outside the limits of the closed system of individual narratives creates a vibrant and energetic dynamic environment in which IF can flourish.

Thanks for asking some interesting questions and pointing to an interesting message thread.

Melanie
Storymind

Narrative Psychology: How memories work – an example

Narrative Psychology: How memories work – an example

Something I posted today on my Facebook page:

What a magnificent mountain morning. The air is clear, crisp and clean from several days of thunderstorms. Temperature was 40 degrees when we woke up this morning (at the first light of pre-dawn, as usual for us mountain folk). This morning reminds of those wonderful Sunday mornings and a kid and memories of Sunday mornings with my young children- all laid back, casual and comfortable – staying in our robes and/or jammies all morning long, no deadlines, no chores (regular office hours in those days) and school for the kids on the weekdays – Saturdays were either a trip to someplace like Disneyland, the museum or the park or yard work or painting around the house. So on Sunday morning, you didn’t feel you hadn’t done your job – either the week before or at home the day before. Pancakes and bacon were often the order of the day – sometimes homemade hash browns, with orange juice, coffee and milk. And then the day ahead – play (with toys for the kids, perhaps on the guitar or with my coin collection for me) and a nice Sunday dinner, like roasted chicken breasts, white rice and a veggie like my mom used to make or maybe chicken pot pies that the kids liked. Once in a while, when we could afford it, mornings were off to IHOP for a special breakfast. (Still remember how a pack of crackers in cellophane would keep baby Keith busy until his food arrived. Mindi liked to color – and eat the crayons.) And, about once a week, usually on Friday, Saturday or Sunday, we could scrape together $10 and clean out all our money to buy MacDonald’s for us with Happy Meals for the kids. Looking back, I can’t believe how much they enjoyed those little toys that came in the bags, not to mention the burgers or nuggets and fries. So, today reminds me of all that – and much more. But I’ll just leave it here for now…. More – My cousin just wrote about this post on my other site: “You could have been writing about our home life back in the day. It gives me warm fuzzies to reflect back on those special times that didn’t seem so special while they were occurring.” To which I replied: “Too many other things going on when the events actually happened to isolate the pearls at the time. Though the recollections are now idealized, lumping all such experiences into one perfect capsule, they are the essence of what life felt like in general in those days. And the power of the “warm fuzzies” informs my emotions today, making me feel as if it is all happening now – creating those feels (or re-creating them) “live” in the present, with an intensity and emotional clarity not possible back when the memories were formed, a bit here and a bit there, over time until the truth they all hinted at can be fully appreciated in their essential nature, all at once, and repeatedly accessed moment to moment, every day when I pause to look back, look up to see around me, and look forward at what may come.”

What if…

A thought exercise for writers:

What if you could be genetically altered to be happy in a miserable life? Would you do it?

Having had a number of private responses to this post in other venues, I offer the following: Some people would choose to lose the ability to see their life as miserable – to become a new person who likes that life, keeping everything else about them the same. Some people would choose the other way and remain who they are inside, even if it meant they could never have happiness in their lives. It is really a choice about identity. Pink Floyd answered this way – you raise the blade, you make the change, you rearrange me ’til I’m sane. You lock the door and throw away the key, there’s someone in my head but it’s not me. In “Brazil” by Terry Gilliam, the message is that it is better to be blissfully happy in a fantasy world than miserable in the real world. And so, these two great artists disagree. Honestly, there is no right answer. It is as individual and personal a choice as one can make. Really, it is simply about being aware that, whatever one’s issues, there is more than one way to skin a cat.

The 15 Cent Happiness Fix

People often shoot themselves in the foot, and so do characters. There’s a narrative reason for it. Happened to me today, but THIS time I dodged my own bullet. Here’s how I stopped following that storyline – something you can use for yourselves and for the characters in your stories as well.

On a diet this morning (as always). Got caught up in conversation and poured too much milk in my Honey Bunches of Oats. It’s only a few calories, but then I know I’m over my limit right from the get-go and it will hang over my head all day: diet ruined at breakfast. So, I feel like I’ve failed and spend the rest of the day trying to make up for it by cutting back everywhere else. In short, I’m miserable all day long.

That’s my usual narrative. But then I realized that wasn’t the only narrative I could create. In fact, I didn’t create this one at all. It was all based on being raised not to waste food or money. So even though it was just 15 cents of milk, once it is poured, it must be consumed.

THAT narrative was so long and practiced that it became a given – a storyline that filtered my thinking and eliminated potential options and solutions before I even considered the issue at hand. And so, the simple notion of simply pouring out the extra milk to lose the calories and feel good about my breakfast would normally never even occur to me because it violated the first narrative of never wasting food or money.

You see we, and the characters that represent us, are full of justifications. These are not bad nor good but just narrative that we have learned to rely on to get through life, to protect ourselves, and to streamline our decision making processes. But when we’ve engaged in those narratives long enough, they never come to the conscious mind for reconsideration. They become blinders that limit our alternatives to only those that don’t violate the governing narrative. So, every new issue becomes a subordinate sub-story to the guiding narratives of our lives.

How do you bust out of that storyline? For that matter, how do you even recognize that their might be other alternatives when experience tries to keep you from thinking outside the narrative? Simple. Whenever you encounter a situation that appears to be a dilemma (e.g. I want to diet but there’s too much milk), stop before acting and ask yourself when did the problem start? I had no problem with my diet. The problem only began when I poured in too much milk. So, fixing THAT is the first place to look for a solution.

How can I make my breakfast the way it needs to be? Just pour out fifteen cents worth of milk. But I can’t! But then I think, I eat it as is and am miserable all day. But if I waste fifteen cents of food and money, My bowl of oats will be just the way I want it and I’ll be happy all day. So, in essence, I can buy a whole day’s worth of happiness for fifteen cents, or I can hold onto that money and be unhappy. Gee. Gosh. What should I do? Right.

I can buy a whole day’s happiness for a dime and a nickel. Isn’t my happiness worth fifteen cents?

Imagine, then, as I look back and think about all the times I’ve allowed myself to be in a bad mood for hours or even days when some little inexpensive fix could avoid all that if I’m just willing to violate a narrative code I don’t even know I’m limited by?

Now sure, in case you are wondering, sometimes the right choice is to eat the cereal and go off the diet – there’s no right or wrong choice as it all depends on context. But, if you have a long-term commitment going (like a diet or earning a degree or finishing a jig saw puzzle) one single moment of exception isn’t likely to indicate you need to junk your whole plan. Rather, keep alert to see if a series of exceptions begin to crop up, as that is usually the best indicator that maybe you need to change plans or change course.

But, for a single exception – a dilemma where you face displeasure if you stick to your guns – then consider changing the exception side of the equation – the figurative bowl of cereal with too much milk. Often it will turn out that the only reason you have an apparent dilemma is because you are locking two points, not just one. You won’t go off your diet and you won’t pour out the milk.

Try to listen to your thoughts when you say, “Rats! I poured too much milk in my cereal. Now I have to go off my diet and eat it.” Ask yourself why you have to eat it. “Because I’m hungry.” Why not eat part of it? “Because I can’t waste food.” And the minute you hear yourself say “because” or “I can’t” or especially, “Because I can’t” you know there’s another narrative at work beyond the one you can see.

When faced with a dilemma, always question your givens. Then you choose: Which is worse, making an exception to my diet narrative or making an exception to my “don’t wast food” narrative. Almost always, one narrative will be more flexible than the other – more acceptable for making exceptions.

And if you can’t bring yourself to make an exception in either narrative. Well then you’re pretty much screwed. But how often does that happen? Mostly you just need to train yourself to see that there are two sides that can give on a dilemma. When you find yourself unhappy with a situation, before anything else, identify those two sides: Desire to diet and too much food already served.

Then, test each side to see how resolve the issue – side one, go off diet (at least today) and side two (waste some food).

Today, for the first time ever, I put my hand over the bowl leaving a little open area and poured out the excess milk. I did this without guilt and without regret AND without permanently disbanding the “don’t waste food” narrative. I simply chose in which narrative I would make an exception.

And THAT is the fifteen cent happiness fix: One, identify the conflict that is the source of your displeasure. Two, identify the narrative that drives each side. Three, choose the side in which making an exception will be the least unacceptable.

The character is your story can suffer those kinds of dilemmas forever, because that is what we as real people do ever day and all day long. So use this kind of justification to create characters who are troubled in realistic ways. But in your own life, why not use the fifteen cent happiness fix to unload the gun you use to shoot yourself in the emotional foot?

–Melanie Anne Phillips

A Story is an Argument (Annotated)

A Story is an Argument

In the last lesson we learned how the most simple form of audience manipulation is for an author to tell a tale, such as a fairy tale or cautionary tale in which a statement is made that a particular path is good or bad.

But, how much power would an author have if he could convince his audience that his favored path is not just good or bad, but is, in fact, the best (or worst) of all possible approaches that might reasonably be taken in the situation under study.  In that case, the author is not just changing behavior, but changing minds as well.

Naturally, audience members (readers) are not going to just accept such a blanket statement without some proof.  In fact, for the earliest storytellers around the campfire, blanket statements would be met with rebuttals from his listeners who would ask, “What about this other approach you didn’t mention?  Why isn’t that a better way?”

Being right there, the “author” could attempt to counter that rebuttal by explaining why that other option wouldn’t be as good.  If he made a successful case, the objection would be dropped.  There might be several alternatives brought up by the audience, but if they were all addressed, the author’s original blanket statement would be generally accepted as true.

But once stories began to be recorded in song and manuscript and presented to audiences where the author was not present, there would be no way to counter the rebuttals.  And so, in order to successfully support a blanket statement, authors started to include in the tale itself explanations about why the other major reasonable alternatives were not as good as the proffered one.

It was this action that elevated the tale (a statement) to become a story (an argument) as we know it today.  The collection of necessary supporting arguments required to prove a blanket statement became embedded in the conventions of story structure audiences expect around the world.

Interestingly, these conventions describe all the different ways of reasonably looking at a problem – the full complement of perspectives each of us employs every day when trying to  understand difficulties and seek solutions.  So, in a sense, the structure of stories ultimately evolved from a single perspective to a living, dynamic model of our problem-solving processes – perhaps of our minds themselves.

And even more interestingly, the processes we described in our first two lessons of storytellers trying to accurately document human behavior of individuals in in relationships converge with this model of the mind borne of seeking to support blanket statements.

To recall, when people come together in groups for a common purpose, the begin to specialize insofar as one member emerges as the voice of reason for the group and another as the skeptic, for example.

In time, the group self-organizes without any conscious intent of its members until the complete collection of specialities is identical to the full complement of perspectives every individual uses in his or her own life.  In other words, the group becomes a group mind, structurally, in which each specialist represents (and functions as) one of the facets of any individual mind.  And, in this way, more depth and detail can be discovered by the group in regard to its issue of common concern than if all its members came to the table as general practitioners, trying to solve the problem in all areas at once.

And so, the attempt by thousands of years of storytellers to accurately represent human behavior and the attempt of authors to manipulate audiences through arguments both converge on the same model of the fundamental approaches to problem solving that illuminate the very mechanisms of our individual minds.

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Using Dramatica in Real World Psychological Analysis

Recently, a Dramatica user sent me a series of questions about the potential use of Dramatica in real world psychological analysis. Here’s his questions and my responses:

Question: If StoryMind is a model of a human mind trying to resolve an inequity (as the construct between one mind communicating to another in the communication process of sender of message and receiver of message encoded in symbols, etc), then I have been working to understand how it reflects my own mind and that of those around me. If it truly is an accurate representation of how we perceive the world according to story being a projection of our mind, then I don’t think it should be kept as a writing application only.

Answer: it isn’t being kept for writing only. For the last four years we’ve been working with industry, business, and government agencies, all under the auspices of a major university to do narrative analysis in the real world. We’ve developed whole new techniques for applying the theory. I hope to be making some of this public soon.

Question: Setting aside the Story Engine, how does the problem (or just a difference between two things positive or negative) start in the elements and create a psychology?

Answer: By itself, the problem element does not create a psychology. It forms the anchor point of a psychology (a storyform). It just describes the common point around which all the other psychological elements are hinged or the common element through which they are all connected.

Question: If the psycho-schematic (clever) is a psychology and we don’t change that much once formed, but we do have many different responses to many different contexts, how can I learn to see the way it fits together?

Answer: You need a separate psycho-schematic (storyform) for each context. Our narrative in our job is not likely the same as that with our mate or in our church or when voting. But, personal narratives are factal in nature, meaning that sometimes some of the narratives are actually elements in an ever larger narrative. This is not absolute, however, because the subject matter of our lives, en toto, is the narrative space in which the galaxies, solar systems, and satellites of our psyches operate. Sometimes they are hinged, sometimes they collide, sometimes they are warped by other near-by non-connected narratives, and sometimes they operate independently of all the rest.

Question: Do you teach this in a class?

Answer: I am planning a whole series of upcoming classes and courses in the application of Dramatica in the real world. I’ll announce them in our newsletter and on our blog as they are completed and become available.

Question: Are there exercises that determine how it works?

Answer: Not sure what you mean here – exercises to show how it works? Nope, not until the classes start to be released.

Question: So, with the chart, we could sit down with someone and chart out their current psychology and be able to determine the best course to take in treating that problem (whether the mind is looking in the wrong place or focusing in too much to see the problem, etc)??

Answer: You can only do this in regard to specific contexts (issues). In fact, Dramatica is a model of our complex web of motivations and the tensions that pull upon them. From this motivation map you can project likely behavior. But it must be done in regard to specific problems, situations or contexts. If you have multiple context, you need to prepare a separate storyform for each.

Question: If I started with a single element, what would it do to create a psychology?

Answer: It would provide the seed of motivation from which a psychology can grow, much as a grain of sand provides the seed for a pearl to form.

Question: I know that the Story Engine is biased, and it works fine for most stories, but if your purpose is not storytelling, but narrative of an individual trying to see a clear path, those other Signpost orders that are not allowed would be available too, right?

Answer: Nope, not right. The Story Engine is not really biased. It just takes a point of view. You cannot see anything without a point of view. So, in looking at narrative, the Dramatica model needed to choose a perspective from which to see it. As a result, certain things cannot be seen – BUT – that is only as a fine degree of detail where the perceptual “shadow” leaves an area that cannot be seen directly. But, as with looking a constellations in the night sky, some stars are only visible if you don’t look at them directly, but next to them. In other words, astronomers are able to determine the existence of planets they cannot see by perturbations in the orbits of the parent stars they can see.

So, while certain sequential orders of events are not “allowed” by Dramatica’s story engine, the CANNOT be allowed in a viable psychology from the point of view Dramatica takes of it. Otherwise, it would violate the “laws” of psychology – the rules by which the mind must operate. Again, in other words, Dramatica provides a complete view of motivation and behavior from its chosen point of view – that of the western culture, but it provides all that can be seen from that point of view – like a hologram: if you cut off a corner, the corner will still contain the complete image, just not from every angle available in the original.

Question: And the K-based bias of the model being M/E=S*T is part of being in the world, so it would encompass all of the psychologies (looking from that perspective), right?

Answer: Yes, correct. But, there are all the other permutations of the equation in the model as well, each representing a different part of the process of considering a problem from all available sides in the hunt for a solution. It is the order in which we move from one perspective to the next that creates the DNA sequence of our individual psychologies – in the real world, the memome (based on “meme”) of the mind as opposed to the genome of our bodies.

Question: I mean, as a scientific, mathematical model, trying to apply scientific rigor to a “soft” science like psychology, it would be very valuable (if it changed the way we approach therapy), which would expand the attention Dramatica would get and the theory would grow much faster – or is there no scientific journal where Dramatica would be publishable (if in fact it is not observable, repeatable, testable)??

Answer: A multi-headed question, so here is a multi-headed answer: Psychology is currently a soft science only because it seeks to understand the internal through external observation alone. Narrative structure was created through trial and error to describe individual and group behavior. The conventions of narrative structure turned out to have a pattern that transcended the specific and illustrated the fractal relativity of the mind. Dramatica documented and refined that existing natural pattern to form the first model of the functioning of the mind not based on statistical observation. When this internal “hard” model is used in conjunction with statistical “soft” science psychology, the result is a collaboration of the mechanics and tendencies of psychological issues, forming a “firm” science between the two.

Question: Any exercises you could share as a teacher to a student would be appreciated. 🙂

Answer: Alas, no time. Working on future online classes to explain it all, and can’t break away.

Melanie

There is no truth…

Dramatica (narrative) reflects how the mind operates in all its myriad processes. And from it, we can learn much about life, as we can from all structurally sound stories. For example: There is no one “capital T” Truth, but many small “t” truths that are all angles on the actuality that cannot be directly seen. As is said in the East, “The Tao that can be spoken is not the Eternal Tao.” Meaning, those who have one definition or understanding of things are, by definition, wrong. No one can be right, because none of us can see things from every possible angle. But, for those who break away from a single view and begin to adopt two – Yin and Yang, the binary opposite, the journey has begin to eventually see everything from as many viewpoints as possible and thereby come ever closer to the unattainable Truth.