Category Archives: Plot

Male vs. Female Problem Solving

All too often in stories, relationships and interchanges between characters of different sexes come off stilted, unbelievable, or contrived. In fact, since the author is writing from the perspective of only one of the two sexes, characters of the opposite sex often play more as one sex’s view of the opposite sex, rather than as truly being a character OF the opposite sex. This is because the author is looking AT the opposite sex, not FROM its point of view.

By exploring the differences in how each sex sees the world, we can more easily create believable characters of both sexes. To that end, I offer the following incident.

I was at lunch with Chris (Co-creator of Dramatica) some time ago. I had ordered some garlic bread and could not finish it. I asked the waitress if she would put it in a box to take home, and she did. On the way past the cashier, I realized that I had forgotten to take the box from the table. I said, “Rats! I forgot the bread!”

Chris said, “Go ahead and get it, we’ll wait.”

I thought for a moment and said, “No, it’s not that important.” and started to walk out.

Chris: “It’ll only take a moment.”

Me: “Yes, but I have to go all the way back, and I probably won’t eat it anyway, and it probably won’t reheat very well, and…”

Chris then said in jest, “Sounds like a bunch of excuses to me.”

In fact, they really did sound like excuses to him. But to me, the reasons I had presented to him for not going back for the bread were not rationalizations, but actually legitimate concerns.

At the heart of this difference in perspective is the difference in the way female and male brains are “soft wired”. As a result, neither women nor men can see into the heart of the other without finding a lack of coherence.

Here is a line-by-line comparison of the steps leading from having too much bread to the differing interpretations of my response to forgetting the box.

Melanie thinks:

That’s good bread, but I’m full. I might take it home, but I’m not convinced it will reheat. Also, I’ve really eaten too many calories in the last few days, I’m two pounds over where I want to be and I have a hair appointment on Wednesday and a dinner date on the weekend with a new friend I want to impress, so maybe I shouldn’t eat anymore. The kids won’t want it, but I could give it to the dog, and if I get hungry myself, I’ll have it there (even though I shouldn’t eat it if I want to lose that two pounds!) So, I guess it’s better to take it than to leave it.

Melanie says:

“Waitress, can I have a box to take the bread home?”

Chris understands Melanie to mean:

I want to take the bread home.

The balance sheet:

To me there was only a tendency toward bringing the bread home, and barely enough to justify the effort. To Chris it was a binary decision: I wanted to bring it home or not.

Melanie says:

“Rats! I forgot to bring the bread!”

Chris says:

“Go ahead and get it, we’ll wait.”

The balance sheet:

I’m thinking, “How does this change the way I feel about the situation?” Chris is thinking, “How can she solve this problem.”

Melanie thinks:

Well, I really don’t want to be tempted by it, this unexpected turn makes it easier to lose the weight. If I go back I’ll be tempted or give it to the dog. If I don’t go back I won’t be tempted, which is good because I know I usually give in to such temptations. Of course, the dog loses out, but we just bought some special treats for the dog so she won’t miss what she wasn’t expecting. All in all, the effort of going around two corners while everyone waits just so I can get an extra doggie treat and lead myself into temptation isn’t worth it.

Melanie says:

“No, its not that important.”

Chris says:

“It’ll only take a moment.”

The balance sheet:

I’m thinking that since I was right on the edge of not wanting to take it in the first place, even this little extra necessary effort is enough inconvenience to make it not a positive thing but an irritation, so I’ll just drop it and not pay even the minor price. Chris is thinking that since I made up my mind to take the bread in the first place, how is it that this little inconvenience could change my mind 180 degrees. I must be lazy or embarrassed because I forgot it.

Melanie says:

“Yes, but I have to go all the way back, and I probably won’t eat it anyway, and it probably won’t reheat very well, and…”

Chris says:

“Sounds like a bunch of excuses to me.”

The balance sheet:

I’m trying to convey about a thousand petty concerns that went into my emotional assessment that it was no longer worth going back for. Chris just hears a bunch of trumped up reasons, none of which are sufficient to change one’s plans.

I operated according to an emotional tendency to bring the bread home that was just barely sufficient to generate even the slightest degree of motivation. Chris doesn’t naturally assume motivation has a degree, thinking that as a rule you’re either motivated or you are not.

The differences between the way women and men evaluate problems lead them to see justifications in the others methods.

Making sense of each other:

Now, what does all this mean? When men look at problems, they see a single item that is a specific irritation and seek to correct it. When they look at inequities, they see a number of problems interrelated. Women look at single problems the same way, but sense inequities from a completely emotional standpoint, measuring them on a sliding scale of tendencies to respond in certain ways.

Imagine an old balance scale – the kind they used to weigh gold. On one side, you put the desire to solve the problem. That has a specific weight. On the other side you have a whole bag of things that taken altogether outweigh the desire to solve the problem. But, you can’t fit the bag on the scale (which is the same as not being able to share your whole mind with a man) so you open the bag and start to haul out the reasons – biggest one’s first.

Well, it turns out the first reason by itself is much lighter that the desire to solve the problem, so it isn’t sufficient. You pull out the next one, which is even smaller, and together they aren’t enough to tip the scales. So, you keep pulling one more reason after another out of the bag until the man stops you saying, “Sounds like a bunch of excuses to me.”

To the man, it becomes quickly obvious that there aren’t enough reasonably sized pieces in that bag to make the difference, and anything smaller than a certain point is inconsequential anyway, so what’s holding her back from solving the problem?

But the woman knows that there may be only a few big chunks, but the rest of the bag is full of sand. And all those little pieces together outweigh the desire to solve the problem. If she went ahead and solved it anyway, everything in that bag would suffer to some degree, and the overall result would be less happiness in her consciousness rather than more.

This is why it is so easy for one sex to manipulate the other: each isn’t looking at part of the picture that the other one sees. For a man to manipulate a woman, all he has to do is give her enough sand to keep the balance slightly on her side and then he can weigh her down with all kinds of negative big things because it still comes out positive overall. For a woman to manipulate a man, all she has to do is give him a few positive chunks and then fill his bag full of sand with the things she wants. He’ll never even notice.

Of course if you push too far from either side it tips the balance and all hell breaks loose. So for a more loving and compassionate approach, the key is not to get as much as you can, but to maximize the happiness of both with the smallest cost to each.

All too often, one sex will deny what the other sex once to gain leverage or to use compliance as a bargaining chip. That kind of adversarial relationship is doomed to keep both sides miserable, as long as it lasts.

But if each side gives to the other sex what is important to to the other but unimportant to themselves, they’ll make each other very happy at very little cost.

Do Stories Have 28 or 24 Scenes?

In the Dramatica Theory Book, we lay out a method of story development that results in 28 scenes, each with a component of Character, Plot and Theme.  We also describe a 24 scene perspective of story structure. 

Recently, a Dramatica user was having trouble seeing how the two apparently contradictory approaches related to one another.  I responded with an article ( Character Development and the 28 “Magic” Scenes ).

She just sent another email saying it still wasn’t quite clear.  So, here’s another stab at explaining how the 28 scene and 24 scene views peacefully co-exist:

Hi, Heather.

The 26 scenes only come up when looking at how plot and theme relate. In plot, when you have a single signpost, it is like looking at a single topic. The whole act is about that topic – for example, if the signposts are Learning, Understanding, Doing and Obtaining, then the second “act” is all about Understanding.

You see, there are two ways to look at stories and two ways to look at acts. When the audience looks at an act, they see it as a process that unfolds before them, so they focus more on the journeys, such as Understanding more and more until the characters are able to start Doing. But, when an author looks at a story, he or she will see the whole thing spatially, rather than temporally – see all the parts and pieces and how they fit together all in one view, all at one time.

So, the author focus is on the topics and how they relate to one another. So, he or she will focus more on the signposts, such as act one is about Learning, act two is about Understanding and so on. Both author and audience views are valid, just different because the audience doesn’t know the whole story until it is finished playing out, but the author does.

But, as a story plays out, the audience gradually builds up the same “after the fact” view of the author, act by act and scene by scene. So, the audience will see the journeys as they unfold, but will gradually see the topic shifts as act breaks when, for example, the characters have arrived at an Understanding and finally begin Doing. That marks the end of focusing on Understanding, which is no longer a topic of consideration in the story, having been fully explored.

When you consider the story as a done deal and look at the signposts as “topic acts,” then you can consider how theme relates to plot, act by act. Theme is not just a single item, such as Self-Interest. Nor is is just a simple conflict, such as Skill vs. Experience (the sort of story where a talented youth is pitted against a less-talented but far more experienced oldster). Those kinds of conflicts are explored over time, weighing one against the other, as described in the 28 scenes method.

But, in the spatial view of the story as a done deal, then you need to look at all four items in the thematic quad for each act. For example, the whole Skill quad, in addition to Experience, also contain Enlightenment and Wisdom. By Dramatica’s definitions, Enlightenment is knowing a higher truth, Wisdom is knowing when to use it.

You can see how all four fit together as part of a complete thematic exploration, Skill, Experience (externally based) and Enlightenment and Wisdom (the internal equivalents). In other words, Skill is to Enlightenment as Experience is to Wisdom.

If this is the thematic quad that was structurally associated with the signpost “act” of Understanding, for example, then all four of these thematic issues would be used to explore Understanding. In this example case, Understanding would be explored in terms of Skill, Experience, Enlightenment and Wisdom. But, in structure, the individual thematic issues are not applied to a signpost directly and individually – that is too cut and dried, too ham-handed, to unlike our own thematic investigations in our own lives in which we are constantly weighing one attitude or approach against another.

While in the 28 scene method, this “balance scale” is created when only the direct conflict between the thematic issue and its counterpoint (such as Skill vs. Experience) are measured against each other (though never directly against each other in the same scene), in the spatial view (the after-the-fact analysis of what the story means), every item in the thematic quad needs to be compared against all three of the others.

So, Skill will be weighed against not only Experience, but also directly against Enlightenment and Wisdom as well. This creates six different balance scales per act. In this case, they would be Skill vs. Experience, Skill vs. Enlightenment, Skill vs. Wisdom, Experience vs. Enlightenment, Experience vs. Wisdom and Enlightenment vs. Wisdom.

In real life, we just don’t see what the real thematic issue is directly, and there are always contextual considerations such as, it is wrong to steal, but it is right to steal bread for your starving child if there is no other way to feed him, but it is wrong to steal bread for your starving child if taking the bread will cause two other children to starve. The contextual considerations go on and on. That is why we have a jury of our peers – to cut some slack or conversely to throw the book at a criminal because of context.

This unclear view must be part of the Story Mind if it is to truly mirror the operation of our own minds. And so, for each of the four signposts in a given throughline, there will be all six balance scales for the thematic quad. By the end of the exploration of that signpost, the audience (and author) will know all there is to say about how, for example, Skill, Experience, Enlightenment and Wisdom stack up; how the affect and are affected by Understanding, for example. Then, it is on to the next signpost in which all six balance scales are played against Doing, for example.

By the end of a throughline, the thematic quad will have been played against all four signposts, and only then is there enough data to see how all the balance scale measurements add up, showing us which is the best (most effective) thematic item in trying to solve the story’s problem, and by how much it stands above the others, i.e. much better, or just a little better.

Six balance scales times four signposts equals twenty four “scenes” or more broadly put, twenty four sequences – twenty four thematic measurements. Now, with four throughlines that means there are 96 of those moments or thematic sequences. If you wanted to write a theme-focused story, that pretty much lines out all of the beats you need to create a complete story, especially when you consider you still have to add in character growth and plot progression, not to mention the structural components of genre as they develop act by act as well!

I hope this give you a better look at the twenty four “scene” approach to understanding the meaning and thematic message of a story, as opposed to the experiential 28 scene method of outlining your story’s progression.

As always, let me know if you have any other questions and I’ll do my best to answer them.

Melanie

Character Development and the 28 “Magic” Scenes

A Dramatica user recently asked a couple of questions about developing characters other than the Main and Impact (Obstacle) and also about Dramatica’s reference to “28 magic scenes” in one place and 24 scenes in another.
 
Here’s my reply – you’ll find the original questions at the end:
 
Hi, Heather.
 
Here’s some quick answers. First in regard to developing characters other than the main and obstacle. To begin with, every character has to do double duty – first, as having a real personality and psychology so we, the audience, can identify with them and – second, to fulfill a role as a facet of the larger Story Mind.
 
So, even objective characters can be explored as deeply as you like, even to explain how they came to act as they do as objective characters. But, these characters will not be on the cusp of a decision – they will simply have attitudes, approaches and depth. It is the main and obstacle characters who have the potential to truly change their natures and, therefore, their personalities are far more fluid and dynamic as they grapple with the pressures that would lead them to alter their very identities.
 
Still, even objective characters can been struggling with change if they are the main character in their own sub-plot or their own sub-story. For example, look at Han Solo in the original Star Wars movie (Episode IV). Luke is the main character, Obi Wan his Obstacle (or Impact or Influence character). Han is just an objective character – the “skeptic” archetype, in fact. But, Han has his own sub-story with the price on his head from Jabba the Hut. As a result, Han is a more developed character to the extent he will violate his “skepticism” to help Luke rescue Leia from the prison area, because his personal need to pay off his debt leads him to act in a way counter to his objective function.
 
Further, after Han leaves with his reward, he returns at the end putting his own life at risk to attack the empire ships that are targeting Luke. In other words, he has had a change of heart – he has grown and altered his nature. That is why in the next episodes of Star Wars, he can no longer function as a Skeptic since he has changed, and now he becomes a leader in the resistance.
 
Putting it all together, though the main and obstacle characters must always be very clearly the center of attention and the most developed so that the audience doesn’t lose sight of what the Big Picture overall story argument is about, as many other characters as you like can be developed considerably and with empathy, as long as they don’t muddy the overall waters.
 
As for your next question, here is why in some areas we speak of “28 magic scenes” and in other areas “24 scenes.” In short, the 28 scenes are a storytelling technique while the 24 scenes are a structural component.
 
First, the 28 “magic” scenes. In a story there are four signposts that represent milestones in the progression of the plot. For example, one overall story might follow the progression of Learning, Understanding, Doing and Obtaining. It is the journeys from one to the next that define the acts. So, the first act would be Learning until the characters arrive at an Understanding. Act two would be growing in their Understanding until they are able to begin Doing. And act three would be Doing more and more until they are able to Obtain. This means there are seven dramatic elements in each throughline – four signposts and three journeys. So, four throughlines “times” seven equals 28 plot scenes.
 
But, Theme can also be explored in 28 scenes. Here’s how it works. In each act, both sides of a throughline’s thematic conflict must be explored. But, they should never be in the same scene because if you compare them directly, it comes off as ham-handedly making your thematic point – essentially hitting the audience over the head with your own moral message. But, if you show each side of the thematic conflict in a separate scene, then the comparison is not direct and rather massages the audience instead. So, if the conflict is “greed vs. generosity,” for example, then you’d need six scenes (three for each side of the thematic conflict – one exposure of each for each act). But, you’d also need a final scene at the very end of the story where the two are finally compared side by side to verify your position as author and drive home the point you’ve more subtly made, act by act.
 
This leads to 28 scenes needed – here’s how. In each act of each throughline there are four signposts and three journeys. Each gets a plot scene. So, if you look at an act as a signpost followed by a journey, then each act has two plot-specific scenes per throughline. Therefore, you can put one side of the thematic conflict in the signpost scene and the other counter-point in the journey scene. This keeps them separate and gives each scene in that throughline a thematic component as well as a plot component, thereby making it richer. So, by the end of three acts, you’ve done six scenes and illustrated each side of the thematic conflict three times. The final signposts (signpost four) is the end of the story, the denouement or conclusion. It is there where you make the single side by side comparrison of both sides of the thematic conflict. This is the seventh thematic scene in each throughline, and with four throughlines, again you have 28 scenes – only this time they have an element in each of not only plot but theme at all, making them all the richer for it.
 
And finally, in the 28 scene realm, are the 28 character scenes. This only works if you are using archetypes. In fact, the whole 28 scene concept, as stated earlier, is just a story development trick – a way to quickly build scenes that can later be altered or added to. It provides nothing more than an initial spine to get you a framework from which to diverge.
 
So, to use archetypes to create 28 scenes, consider there are eight archetypes. They can be divided in pairs such as Protagonist and Antagonist or Reason and Emotion. These pairings create the greatest conflict. Now, each character has to be introduced – that’s eight scenes. And each character has to be dismissed at the end (how they fared, what happened to them) – that’s eight more scenes for a total of 16. And finally, each of the four pairs of conflicts but be introduced, interacted, and resolved. That’s four conflicts times three stages of conflict development and that equals (again!) 28!!
 
Therefore, if you put one character element in each of your 28 magic scenes, you end up with each scene having an element of plot, theme, and character and a chicken in every pot. But keep in mind, this is just a story development technique. There’s nothing structural about it, though it is based on structure, and what you end up with is a story that is so balanced (every scene having plot, theme, and character equally) that it seems rather plodding and predictable. Still, if you can’t figure out how to create your story’s sequence and get all three aspects of your story completely laid out, this method provides a really good means of creating a “first draft” of your storytelling sequence which you can then expand and alter.
 
For more info on the 28 magic scenes, try these videos:
 

64. The 28 “Magic” Scenes (Part One)

65. The 28 “Magic” Scenes (Part Two)

66. The 28 “Magic” Scenes (Part Three)

67. The 28 “Magic” Scenes (Part Four)

 
Now, dealing with the 24 scenes in the structure, we find there are the same four signposts that delineate the sequence of topics that will be explored act by act. .
 
But each of the signposts must also be explored thematically. In other words, to make the story argument, the reflections or harmonics of the problem must be felt in the plot. To do this, you look at the thematic conflict for a given throughline (like the overall story) and then explore all of the thematic conflicts in each of the four signposts.
 
There are four thematic elements in the quad containing the thematic conflict. In every quad there are six different relationships that can be explored, so four signposts “times” six relationships to be explored equals 24 sequences per throughline. In the Dramatica Theory Book, chapter 18, available at http://dramaticapedia.com/contents/dramatica-theory-book/dramatica-theory-book-chapter-18/ about halfway into the chapter you’ll find a section on “Sequences.” Here’s a quote from the chapter that describes the six relationships in a thematic quad that explains it pretty well:
 

What Is A Sequence?

Sequences deal with a quad of Variations much as Acts deal with a quad of Types. The quad we will be interested in is the one containing the Range, as that is the item at the heart of a throughline’s Theme. Returning to our example story about an Objective Story Throughline in the Physics Class with a Concern of Obtaining, we shall say the Range is Morality, as illustrated in the quad below.

If Morality is the Range, then Self-Interest is the counter-point. Theme is primarily derived from the balance between items. When examining the quad of Variations containing the Range, we can see that the Range and counter-point make up only one pair out of those that might be created in that quad. We have also seen this kind of balance explored in the chapter on Character where we talked about three different kinds of pairs that might be explored: Dynamic, Companion, and Dependent.

Just as with character quads, we can make two diagonal pairs, two horizontal pairs, and two vertical pairs from the Variations in the Range quad. For the Morality quad, these six pairs are Morality/Self-Interest, Morality/Attitude, Morality/Approach, Self-Interest/Attitude, Self-Interest/Approach, and Attitude/Approach. Each of these pairs adds commentary on the relative value of Morality to Self-Interest. Only after all six have been explored will the thematic argument will have been fully made. It could go in a manner as follows:

Morality/Self-Interest
On face value, which appears to be the better of the two?

Morality/Attitude
When Morality is the issue, how do we rate the Attitude of those espousing it?

Morality/Approach
When Morality is the issue, how do we rate the Approach of those espousing it?

Self-Interest/Attitude
When Self-Interest is the issue, how do we rate the Attitude of those espousing it?

Self-interest/Approach
When Self-Interest is the issue, how do we rate the Approach of those espousing it?

Attitude/Approach
Overall, which should carry more weight in regard to this issue?

By answering each of these questions in a different thematic sequence, the absolute value of Morality compared to Self-Interest will be argued by the impact of the six different relative values.

How Sequences Relate To Acts

Three Act Progressions

With six thematic Sequences and three dynamic Acts, it is not surprising that we find two Sequences per Act. In fact, this is part of what makes an Act Break feel like an Act Break. It is the simultaneous closure of a Plot Progression and a Theme Progression. The order in which the six thematic sequences occur does not affect the message of a story, but it does determine the thematic experience for the audience as the story unfolds. The only constraints on order would be that since the Range is the heart of the thematic argument, one of the three pairs containing the Range should appear in each of the three dynamic Acts. Any one of the other three pairs can be the other Sequence.

Four Act Progressions

The three dynamic Acts or Journeys in a throughline’s plot represent the experience of traversing the road through the story’s issues. The four structural Acts are more like a map of the terrain. As a result, a more structural kind of thematic Sequence is associated with the Types directly.

Beneath each Type is a quad of four Variations. From a structural point of view, the Act representing each Type will be examined or judged by the four Variations beneath it. In our ongoing example, the Act dealing with Obtaining would be examined in terms of Morality, Self-Interest, Attitude, and Approach. The difference between this and the thematic sequences we have just explored is that Obtaining is judged by each Variation in the quad separately, rather than each Variation in the quad being compared with one another. It is an upward looking evaluation, rather than a sideways looking evaluation.

In this manner, a thematic statement can be made about the subject matter of concern in each of the four structural Acts. The six Sequences constitute an argument about the appropriateness of different value standards.

Scenes

By the time we get down to scene resolution, there are so many cross-purposes at work that we need to limit our appreciation of what is going on in order to see anything in the clutter. First, however, let’s touch on some of the forces that tend to obscure the real function of scenes, then strip them away to reveal the dynamic mechanism beneath.

Resolution and Sequence

Earlier we spoke of plot in terms of Types. We also speak of plot here in terms of four resolutions: Acts, Sequences, Scenes, and Events. Both of these perspectives are valid appreciations depending on the purpose at hand. Because all units in Dramatica are related holographically, no single point of view can completely describe the model. That is why we select the most appropriate view to the purpose at hand. Even though looking at plot in terms of Types is useful, it is true that “plot-like” twists and turns are going on at the scene resolution as well. However, these dynamics are not truly part of the scene, but merely in the scene. An Act, Sequence, Scene, or Event is really a temporal container — a box made out of time that holds dynamics within its bounds. Much like filters or gratings with different-sized holes, the resolutions “sift” the dynamics trapping large movements at the highest levels and allowing smaller nuances to fall all the way down to the Elements.

What’s in a Scene?

At the scene resolution, the effects of Types and Variations can be felt like the tidal pull of some distant moon. But scenes are not the resolution at which to control those forces. Scenes are containers that hold Elements — anything larger cannot get crammed in without breaking. So the richness we feel in scenes is not solely due to what the scene itself contains, but also to the overall impact of what is happening at several larger scales.

What then does a scene contain? Scenes describe the change in dynamics between Elements as the story progresses over time. And since Elements are the building blocks of characters, scenes describe the changing relationships between characters.

Characters and Scenes

Characters are made up of Motivations, Methodologies, Means of Evaluation, and Purposes. These terms also describe the four major sets of Elements from which the characters are built. The driving force of a character in a given scene can be determined, such as whether their argument is over someone’s motivations or just the method they are employing.

6 Goes Into 24 Like Theme Goes Into Scenes

We have spoken of the three and four act appreciations of story. It was illustrated how both divisions are valid to specific tasks. When dealing with scenes, we find that no scenes ever hang between two acts, half in one and half in the other, regardless of a three or four act appreciation. This is because there are exactly 24 scenes created at the Element level: six per act in a four act appreciation, eight per act in a three act appreciation. In both cases, the scenes divide evenly into the acts, contributing to the “feel” of each act break being a major turning point in the progress of the story.

Sequences, on the other hand, exist as a six part partition of the story. Therefore, they divide evenly into a three act appreciation but not into a four. Since the four act view is objective, sequences — as they define Thematic movements — are truly an experiential phenomenon in the subjective appreciation and lose much of their power objectively.

 

Here’s the original email from the Dramatica user:
 
Hi Melanie,

 

I’ve watched the 12 hrs. and just watched the storyweaving seminar. I was wondering if you could clarify a couple points for me please. I understand the four through lines, four P.O.V’s. M.C., O.C., S.S., O.S. (I, you, we, they) Can I write a scene(s) centred around a character that is not the main or obstacle character and is separate from all through lines. I realize I could do from the objective story P.O.V., but that limits me to an eagle eye view. For example, if my antagonist is not my obstacle character, can I include a scene(s) that is intimate from his/her P.O.V. without having either the main or obstacle character present in those scenes? It seems to me that would give my story/audience a disjointed feeling, but I would like clarification. My second question is, in the 12 hr. class you talked about the 28 magic scenes. I get that. It makes perfect sense to me. However, when I started rooting around your blog page I found an article that spoke of 24 scenes. That there are 6 scenes in each act for a 4 act body of work and 8 scenes in each act in a 3 act body of work. The latter makes sense, just add on the addition 4 scenes in the fourth act, but the six scenes each in 4 acts confused me. Could you please clarify. Or point me in the right direction for either of my questions.

 

Thank you,

 

Heather

 

Act Order – Sign Posts, Journeys & Throughlines

A Dramatica user asks:

Hi Melanie,

In the [Dramatica] theory book you can find this text:

“Just because we have absolute freedom, however, does not mean our decision will have no effect on our audience. In fact, the order in which each scene crops up deter- mines which information is a first impression and which is a modifier. It is a fact of human psychology that first impressions usually carry more weight than anything that follows. It takes a lot of undoing to change that initial impact. This is why it is usually better to introduce the Main Character’s Signpost 1 before the Impact Character Sign- post 1. Otherwise, the audience will latch onto the Impact Character and won’t switch allegiance until much farther into the story. Clearly, if our weaving has brought the audience to think the Impact Character is the Main Character, we have failed to convey the real structure and meaning of our story. So, just because we have freedom here doesn’t mean we won’t be held accountable.”

I understand it.

My question: Is it possible to start out with the OS Signpost 1 before the MC Signpost 1?

Thanks al lot,
Eduardo

My reply:

Hi, Eduardo

Sure, in fact the only hard and fast “rules” are that you shouldn’t introduce a throughline’s journey before its sign post and that you should finish all sign posts and journeys of the same “act” (such as sign post 2 and journey 2) for all four of the throughlines before introducing any of the next act’s sign posts or journeys, such as sign post 3 or journey 3 of any of the four throughines. That way, acts are not fragmented from one throughline to another, and all throughline finish an act before any throughline begins the next act.

So, as for putting the OS Sign post 1 before the MC sign post 1 is just fine – it simply means you are choosing to open your story with the Objective story and then introducing your Main Character after the overall story subject is revealed.

Melanie

Questions About Act Order in Different Cultures

A writer asked the following question regarding my earlier article, “Changing Dramatica’s Suggested Act Order.”

How does one go about sussing this out? What approach would you recommend if I were trying to figure out which argument is primary in Mexico or Argentina or Norway?

Here’s my thoughts:

Alas, there’s no specific methodology developed at this time to help make such a judgment.  The best approach I’ve found is to look to existing stories that are popular and long-lived within the culture in question. 

All stories seek to provide both order and sequence.  Order is spatial and is the equivalent of “where there’s smoke, there’s fire” – in other words, what conditions co-exist – a focus on relationships.  Sequence is temporal and is the equivalent of “one bad apple spoils the bunch” – in other word, what conditions lead to another condition. 

All cultures will explore both, and stories for (or about) men will largely look at deadlines and linear progressions while stories for (or about) women will largely look at restrictions and conflicting forces.  This, of course, further clouds the issue. 

And, naturally, some cultures are more balanced between the two while others are at the extremes of the bias.  Further, the intensity of how strongly a culture is attached to accuracy is a variable as well.  In such a case, even a strong bias might not be so crucial. 

Remember also that all cultures most appreciate stories that are fully accurate in both aspects, for that is what our human minds most seek.  Therefore, the only importance in knowing the cultural bias is if you want to intentionally break structure for personal reasons, which is always the equivalent of saying, “I know it is better THAT way, but I just want it THIS way.” 

So, in the end, it is a judgment call, but the good news is, if you can’t decide the relative importance of time or space or the overall importance of either to a given culture, then the culture probably doesn’t care all that much either, making it pretty safe for whatever you do.

Melanie

Definitive Scientific Article on Dramatica Theory

Here is a link to the definitive explanation of the Dramatica theory (in PDF) from 1993, that explains all of the key concepts in text and graphics, including descriptions of non-story uses of the psychological model and the functioning of the model in terms of the dramatic circuit created by Potential, Resistance, Current, and Power (Outcome) and its relationship to the prediction of temporal story progression in terms of a quad-based 1 2 3 4 sequence.

http://storymind.com/free-downloads/sa_article.pdf

Changing Dramatica’s Suggested Act Order

A Dramatica user recently asked:

Hello:  would appreciate your help on this.  Am using the Dramatica software.  Level III.    Impact Character is MIND and that’s OK.  However, the software keeps telling me that Signpost #1 is Memories and Signpost #2 is Preconscious/Impulsive Responses.  I want them reversed, i.e. Signpost #1 to be Impulsive Responses and Signpost #2 to be Memories.  I have gone back into the impact character descriptors  prior to the PLOT PROGRESSIONS  viz. to the Impact Character  Development and written in Impulsive responses.   Nothing changes .    I  realize I can just “call” them something other than what the software says, i.e. call Signpost #2,  #1  but would prefer to have the software place them in the order I want.   Can you suggest how I can do that?  Thanks for your help.

Bill

My reply:

Hi, Bill

Here’s the problem (and a solution):

First, the reason Dramatica chooses that order is that is the sequence that will support your overall story argument or message.

Here’s why – the order of things changes their meaning. For example, a slap followed by a scream has a different meaning than a screen followed by a slap. Similarly, the order in which perspectives are explored in a story is what ultimately makes the argument, over time.

So, Dramatica is telling you the order necessary to fully make and support your message. In fact, if you pick all the sequence orders, the Story Engine in Dramatica will be able to determine the message and fill in many of the structural items based on sequence alone!

Now, here’s a solution for what really isn’t a problem, but more of a frustration:

Every culture looks at time and space in a story to make the argument. But, every culture favors one of the other as being the primary argument and other as being the supporting argument.

A culture will accept inaccuracies in the secondary argument, but not in the primary argument. In Japanese culture, the Timeline argument is most important. But in Western culture, the Spatial argument is most important.

So, while it will slightly weaken your argument to change the order of the signposts (and therefore the nature of the journeys) in Western culture, your audiences will see that a a minor violation that doesn’t negate the primary argument.

The one caveat is to make absolutely sure you keep all the spatial (structual) items exactly on target because if you interject inaccuracies in there as well, with the slight weakness of your timeline already at work, the entire structure might fall.

Hope this helps.

Melanie

Bill’s reponse:

Hi:  Thank you so much for taking the trouble to reply in detail.  Much appreciated.   In the meantime, I rethought everything, thinking “just what if Dramatica knows something I don’t . . . however impossible that might be!”  And I figured that the Dramatica order was indeed better.  So that’s what I’m using.  And again many thanks.  Cordially,  Bill

Relationship of Story Driver to Journeys

Recently, a writer asked about the relationship of the Story Driver to the three Journeys in every throughline.  Here’s my response:

The Story Driver is one of the eight dynamic questions (the eight “essential” questions) that Dramatica asks, including Main Character Resolve (change or steadfast) and Story Outcome (Success or Failure).

Story Driver is Action or Decision. That means that the story is kicked off by either an action taken (such as a murder) or experienced (such as an earthquake) or by a decision made (such as to quit smoking) or arrived at (such as “I’ve gotta stop being a workaholic”)

The four signposts in each act are just that – signposts along the road from the inciting incident to the conclusion of your story. Moreover, each signpost can be seen as a town along the road. Each town has a particular nature (like “Learning” or “Understanding”) and somewhere between the two towns, the influence of one gives way to the influence of the other.

So, when you Journey from town to town you are gradually moving from the heart of downtown (greatest influence) of one through the area where their influence is equal until you arrive at the downtown (greatest influence) of the next town.

Four towns are along the road for each of the four perspectives. So, there are four Signposts spanned by three journeys.

Each Journey is kicked off by another incident of the Story Driver. So, if an action started the quest from the first town (signpost) the leads it to the second signpost, then things would stop right there unless the Driver kicks it into gear again with another incident. Eventually, the fourth signpost (the destination) is reached and the momentum is brought to a complete stop by a final Driver incident that bring all the inertia to a halt. So, the Driver starts it all and the Driver brings it all to a conclusion, and the Driver is what kicks off each journey and brings the whole quest to a conclusion.

Sequences, Variations, and Acts

A Dramatica user just asked:

I have reached a small roadblock in reference to SEQUENCE, in terms of a division of ACT and organization of SCENE. The term is not covered in your Dramaticapedia pages nor in your theory book online. I have an old reference manual (I bought the product in 2005) that covers the issue somewhat. It seems like an important concept to me since I am writing a novel.

I am confused about your use of Sequence as you talk about 4-ACT structure, since you talk about the Concern being looked at from the VARS of each type as it sequences through the 4 acts. Does this mean that in BEING you are looking at (CONCERN=BECOMING) as judged by [knowledge ability desire and thought]? Or am I judging BEING through those four variations:    as in     (BEING [knowledge, ability, desire & thought]) and applying that to BECOMING? 

When I look at this second interpretation it makes more sense, but I don’t want to force myself into overburdened complication (which I have a tendency to do).

My reply:

Actually, both of your statements are true:

The Concern is valid throughout the entire course of the story, so it is going to be shaded and better understood by experiencing it (learning about it) through all four variations of a given act.

Equally true, the attempt to get to the center of the story’s problem will be enhanced by looking at each Type in each Act through the four Variations of that act.  In this way, by the end of the story the location of the story’s central problem can be triangulated on (or actually quadrangulated, since there are four Acts and four Types).

But, it is not as complex as that sounds.  In truth, because all our minds work alike beneath the level of our personalities, in storytelling, all one must do is make sure that the Concern, each Act’s Type, and each Act’s Variations are all represented.  The reader/audience will assemble that information in the proper place all by itself so that the Variations act as “lenses” to clarify the location of the problem.

So, simply ensure that those elements are in the mix, and your reader/audience will actually do the hard work for you.

Melanie

3 Act vs. 4 Act Structure

The following  excerpt is taken from

The Dramatica Class Transcripts

William S1 : After working so long in 3-act structure, I’m unclear on Dramatica’s four-act structure.

Dramatica : Okay, let’s address that question… Dramatica sees both a structural and a dynamic view of “acts”… In the dynamic view, we “feel” the progression of a story as falling into three distinct phases. These are the same “movements” that Aristotle saw when he talked about a beginning, a middle, and an end.

An alternative is a structural view. Imagine for a moment, four signposts, along a path. One marks where you start, two in the middle, and one at the end. If you start at the first one, there are three journeys to make.

William S1 : Is act I (set up), act II (confrontation/obstacles) and act III (resolution) applicable?

Dramatica : William, yes, in the traditional understanding of story. There’s a bit more to it in Dramatica. When you move between the four signposts you take three journeys.

William S1 : Why make storytelling more complicated than it is?

Dramatica : Why make it less complicated than it is? When you look at a story as a “done deal”, when you see all the dramatic potentials, rather than concentrating on the events. That is where you see the meaning. Its kind of like scanning out lines on a TV picture. Scene by scene, act by act, you create drama that flows from one point to another. But in the end, you want to be able to connect all the points, and see what kind of picture you have created. By using both a 3 and four act structure and dynamics, Dramatica allows an author to approach a story either through the progression of events or the meaning they want to end up with.

The software has an “engine” that keeps the two compatible, so when you make decisions or changes in one, the effects on the other are shown.

William S1 : What is the 4th act?

Dramatica : The fourth act is the ending, which is the same as the denoument or author’s proof. Any other questions before we continue?

DC Finley : So, the traditional second act is now the second and third acts, right?

Dan Steele : So the event sequence is managed separately from the psychological chain of motivations?

William S1 : Then what is the dramatic purpose of the traditional third act?

Dramatica : Dan, they are managed separately, but intimately tied together. They affect one another.

Dan Steele : Yes.

Dramatica : DC, and William, here’s an answer to you both…If we look at a story as having a beginning, middle and end, then the beginning is static.. it is really the sign post where everything begins. The end is also static, the destination. But the “middle” is seen as the whole development of the story from that starting point to ending point. Now, that is really “blending” half dynamics and half structure. Two points and a string between them.

William S1 : But the beginning is NOT static.. the story usually enters in the middle of a life, event or sequence of events.

Dramatica : Yes, it enters in the middle of a life, but is thought of as the set of potentials that are already wound up that will evolve into the story line.

William S1 : Okay.

Dramatica : Dramatica sees the first act as MUCH more dynamic than that! In fact, we have 7 things to think about!

William S1 : Bring it on.

Dramatica : Let’s label the four structural acts as A,B,C,D. The familiar dynamic acts are 1,2,3. The beginning point is A then we move through 1 to get to B then we move through 2 to get to C. Then we move through 3 to get to D. Now, A,B,C,D and 1,2,3 all have to be there, in order to tell the whole tale.

DC Finley : Je comprende.

Dramatica : Any other questions about this.. oh, just a point. TV often looks at a five act structure. What they are really seeing, is point A followed by 1,2,3 and ending with D. It is not that B, and C are not there, but the commercial breaks emphasize those five and downplay the others. That’s why writing for TV is significantly different than writing for film. And BOTH are a lot different than writing prose. Okay, shall we move on?

DC Finley : Yes.