Category Archives: Plot

Yes, But Is It A Plot?

Recently, a writer presented me with the following comparison:

Dear Melanie:

Please help me by telling me if the following A & B:

1. Are they each plots?

2. Is there a difference between the plots?

3. Is there a difference between the characters?

A:

“What is about to be revealed to you are secrets of magic and illusion that have been guarded under a code of secrecy since medieval times. Because this magician is breaking that code he is placing himself in great jeopardy. It is for this reason he will be disguised and will be known only as the Mystery Magician.”

B:

“You are about to see one of the world’s top magicians break his code of silence and reveal some of magic’s most closely guarded secrets. That’s why, in order to protect his identity you will not hear him speak or even see his face. He will be known only as the Masked Magician.”

Thank you.

My reply…

1. Is each a Plot?

Each is a part of a plot because they both deal with the internal logic of the progression of a story. But, of course, neither is more than the logistic set up for a progression yet to come. It should be noted that while “plot” is the internal logic of the story, as it “actually” happened, “storyweaving” is the manner in which the story is unfolded for the audience. So, in stories such as Pulp Fiction, Remains of the Day, and any number of mysteries, the actual “plot” order of events is quite different from the order in which the audience comes into them.

2. Is there a difference between the plots?

There might be. Based on the answer above, it really depends on which differences between the two would later affect the internal logic of the story’s progression, and which are simply cosmetic differences in the unfolding of the story, added for flavor.

For example, in version “A” the magician is disguised, while in version “B” he does not speak. Is this a significant point (such as in a mystery story in which it turns out the character is a mute) or is it simply a different way of expressing that the magician is attempting to remain anonymous? The subtle differences between version A and version B might be essential logistic information or just a whim of wording.

Similarly, the first version drops the information that the Magician is putting himself in “great jeopardy,” while the second version omits this point. Is that point significant to the plot? Would the same point come out later in version two, just dropped at a different time?

The real proof of the pudding would be in how the rest of the story develops. It is crucial to be aware that an audience may easily misinterpret aspects of storytelling as part of the plot, and my discard important elements of the plot as dabblings in style. Part of an author’s job is to ensure that plot can be separated from storytelling by the audience even while integrating the two into a seamless, flowing experience.

3. Is there a difference between the characters?

Which characters: the narrator / spokesperson, or the Magician? First we should note that half of what we see of characters are their dramatic functions in the plot. The other half consists of their attributes that do not affect the plot but create the humanity and flavor of the characters.

For example, in some stories one could replace a suave detective with a rumpled detective. Although each character might act exactly the same in their function in the plot, the flavor of their personalities would be completely different. But in other stories, such a replacement would change how the plot had to evolve because certain dynamics depended upon the personality of the detective.

In version A, the narrator’s personality is much more controlling. He (or she) puts himself in the driver’s seat over both the audience and the Magician with lines like, “What you are about to see,” rather than “You are about to see…,” and “He will be disguised,” versus “you will not hear him speak.”

His (her) approach makes the activity passive for the audience in version A and active in version B. He (she) objectifies the experience in the first version and subjectifies it in the second. Clearly there is a difference between the characters, but is it a logistic functional difference or just difference in the personality? Again, that depends on the rest of the story.

As for the Magician, well that is even more obscure. We have not yet met the man. We have heard a bit about him from the narrator/spokesperson, but what have we actually heard from the Magician and what have we seen him do?

Assuming that the narrator/spokesperson is accurately representing the Magician’s personality and function in each version as neutral reporter, then we could, as an exercise, assign the described traits and see if the nature of the Magician changes between the two.

Small points emerge…. In the first version, the Magician is “breaking that code,” while in the second version he will “break his code.” In version A, there is a universal code and the Magician is going against it. In version B, he is breaking his own code. It is a subtle point, but a significant one. What do we know about someone who breaks the law versus someone who breaks with a personal principle?

In addition, version A infers that the Magician may be “breaking that code” on an ongoing basis. Version B might be interpreted to indicate that this is the very first time he will “break his code.” What do we know about a character who makes a career out of revealing secrets of a clandestine organization with specific rules and penalties versus one who is making a break with his moral principles for the very first time?

Again, all of this is speculation based on a very small moment in a much larger story. What I have attempted to do is describe the “potential” differences that might exist between the two, even while acknowledging that in the final unfolding of the story, these differences may only be cosmetic and not substantial at all.

Writing Plot for Television Series

Plot is the aspect of episodic series most plagued with formula. This is because of a predictable Dramatic Circuit. A Dramatic Circuit is made up of a Potential, Resistance, Current, and Outcome. Each of these aspects must be present to create the flow of dramatic tension.

Conventions have been established that often follow the order indicated above. Each episode begins with the potential for trouble either as the first act in a half-hour series or as the teaser in an hour series. In half-hour series, the next act brings in a Resistance to threaten conflict with the Potential. Hour-long series present an act establishing the status quo that the Potential is about to disrupt, then present an act on the Resistance. Next follows the Current act in which Potential and Resistance conflict. In the final act, Potential and Resistance “have it out” with one or the other coming out on top. Some series favor the Potential winning, others the Resistance, still others alternate depending on the mood of the producers, writers and stars.

Some feel this kind of formula is a good pattern to establish because the audience becomes comfortable with the flow. Sometimes this is true, but unless the Character, Theme, and Domain of each episode varies the audience will wind up getting bored instead. More interesting approaches vary which function of the Dramatic Circuit comes first and jumble up the order of the others as well. Starting with an Outcome and showing how it builds to a Potential, then leaving that Potential open at the end of the story can make plots seem inspired. Many a notable comedy series has its occasional bitter-sweet ending where all the pieces don’t come together.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

StoryWeaving Static Plot Points

We might spell out the Goal in the very first Storyweaving scene and never mention it again. Hitchcock often did this with his famous “MacGuffin”, which was simply seen as an excuse to get the chase started. Or, we might bring up the Goal once per act to make sure our audience doesn’t lose sight of what the story is all about. In fact, that is another good rule of thumb: even though once will do it, it is often best to remind the audience of each Static Appreciation once per act. As we shall later see, this concept forms the basis of The Rule of Threes, which is a very handy writer’s technique.

Another thing we might do with a Static Appreciation is hint at it, provide pieces of information about it, but never actually come out and say it. In this manner, the audience enjoys the process of figuring things out for itself. Since we are obligated to illustrate our structure, however, we better make sure that by the end of the story, the audience has enough pieces to get the point.

For each kind of Static Appreciation author’s have created many original way in which they might be woven into a scene through action, dialogue, visuals, even changing the color of type in a book. We suggest making a list of all your appreciations and then peppering them into your scenes in the most interesting and non-cliché manner you can. Even if you aren’t overly clever about some of them, at least the structure has been served.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

StoryWeaving, Space & Time

By now, you should be familiar with the concept that part of a story’s structure is made up of Static Appreciations and part consists of Progressive Appreciations. It is here in Storyweaving that we must find a way to blend the two together so all aspects of our story can unfold in concert.

In the Plot section of Storyencoding, we learned how the four structural and three dynamic acts of each throughline could be seen as four signposts that defined three journeys. Although there are many ways we might weave all of this into a story, there is one very straightforward method that is useful to illustrate the basic concepts.

First of all, think of each signpost and each journey not as an act, but as a Storyweaving scene. From this perspective, we can see that there will be twenty-eight scenes in our story (four signposts and three journeys in each of four throughlines). If we were to write the Type of each signpost on a card and then write the Types that describe the beginning and ending of each journey on a card, we would end up with twenty-eight cards, each of which would represent a Storyweaving scene. (It would be a good idea to put all the signposts and journeys from each throughline on a different color card so we could easily tell them apart.)

Now, we have in front of us twenty-eight scenes. Each one has a job to do, from a structural point of view. Each one must express to an audience the appreciation it represents. This is the process of encoding the signposts and journeys as we did in the Plot section of Storyencoding. We might write that encoding right on each card so that we can tell at a glance what is going to be happening in that scene.

It is at this point we can begin to Storyweave. What we want to determine is the order in which those twenty-eight scenes will be played out for our audience. A good rule of thumb for a straightforward story is that the scenes in each throughline ought to be kept in order. So, Signpost 1 will be followed by Journey 1 which is in turn followed by Signpost 2 and Journey 2, etc.

Now we run into a bit of a sticky wicket: because all four throughlines are actually happening simultaneously from a structural point of view, we would have to have all four Signposts 1 from all four throughlines occur at the same time! Of course, this might be difficult unless we were making a movie and used a four-way split screen. Still, some of our most sophisticated authors find ways use a single event to represent more than one dramatic point at a time. This technique requires experience and inspiration.

A much more practical approach for those using Dramatica for the first time is to put one of the Signposts 1 first, then another, a third, and finally the last. Which of the four Signposts 1 goes first is completely up to our personal tastes, no limitations whatsoever. Although this is not as complex as describing all four throughlines at once, it is a much easier pattern to weave and has the added advantage of providing better clarity of communication to our audience.

Next, we will want to Storyweave all four Journeys 1. We might decide to move through them in the same order as the Signposts or to choose a completely different sequence. Again, that has no structural impact at all, and is wholly up to our creative whims.

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 determines 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 Obstacle Character Signpost 1. Otherwise, the audience will latch onto the Obstacle Character and won’t switch allegiance until much farther into the story. Clearly, if our weaving has brought the audience to think the Obstacle 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.

Using the technique described above, we could order all of the Signposts and Journeys for all four throughlines until we have established a Storyweaving sequence for all twenty-eight scenes.

Before we move on to the next step of this introduction to building Storyweaving scenes, we can loosen up our constraints even a bit further. We don’t have to present all four Signposts and then all four Journeys. Together, each Signpost and Journey pair moves a throughline from where it starts right up to the edge of the next act break. Each pair feels to an audience as if they belong in the first act for that throughline. Therefore, as long as the Signposts precede their corresponding Journeys, the order of exposition can stick with one throughline for both Signpost and Journey or jump from a Signpost to another throughline before returning to the corresponding Journey.

Taking this more liberal approach, we might begin with Main Character Signpost 1 and Journey 1 (as illustrated below), then show Objective Story Signpost 1, then Obstacle Character Signpost 1, Objective Story Journey 1, Subjective Story Signpost 1 and Journey 1, and end with Obstacle Character Journey 1. In this manner, the Signposts and Journeys in each throughline stay in order, but we have much more latitude in blending the four throughlines together.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

Developing the Subjective Story Plot

It is always best to work on the Subjective Story Domain last since it describes the growth of the relationship between the Main and Obstacle Characters, and therefore needs to call upon what was previously determined for them.

Imagine for a moment that the Main Character is a boxer. As an audience we stand in his shoes, effectively becoming him for the duration of the story. We look in the far corner and see our opponent, the Obstacle Character warming up for the bout. As the fight begins, we pass through changing concerns represented by the Main Character Domain Type Order. As the fight progresses, the Obstacle Character lands some telling blows. These are described by the Obstacle Character Type Order.

Outside the ring sit the judges. They do not stand in the shoes of the Main Character, nor are they concerned, fearful, or impacted by the Obstacle Character’s attack. Rather, the judges watch two fighters circling around the issues – maintaining the same relationship between them as adversaries, but covering different ground in the ring.

So it is with the Subjective Story Domain Type Order. As the first round begins, the Main and Obstacle Characters converge on a particular issue. They argue the issue, each from his own point of view. Once they have thrashed that topic into submission, they move on to another area of friction and continue sparring.

Example:

In this fictitious story example, the Subjective Story Domain has been chosen to be Psychology. The Type order selected for the Subjective Story is as follows: Conceptualizing, Conceiving, Being, and lastly Becoming.

SIGNPOST #1

  • Type 1. Conceptualizing

    Conceptualizing means working out a plan, model, belief system, or paradigm. In the Subjective Story, the Main and Obstacle Characters quickly come into conflict about how to look at the relationship between organized crime and law enforcement. The Main Character argues that law enforcement is like a breakwater, holding back an ocean of anarchy. The Obstacle Character sees the system more like an ecology, where each kind of activity has its place in an ever-changing environment.

JOURNEY #1

  • Type 1. Conceptualizing ——> Type 2. Conceiving

    As new information about the increasing number of diamond heists builds, both the Main and Obstacle Characters approach the problem, arguing over how to put the clues into a meaningful pattern. When they discover the international Consortium, the Main Character looks for ways to stop it completely, while the Obstacle looks for ways to divert it. Based on his views, the Main Character Conceives of the need to place one of his agents deep within the Consortium as a mole. The Obstacle Character argues that the Main Character is thinking about it all wrong. They should be working out how to make the heists too difficult and costly a venture so the Consortium will go elsewhere to greener pastures.

SIGNPOST #2

  • Type 2. Conceiving

    Conceiving means coming up with an idea or determining a need. They finally come up with the idea of using the Main Character as the mole in an undercover operation, agreeing that this will be the best way to proceed given their two points of view. They both believe that this plan will not only achieve their purposes, but will also make the other see the error of his ways. The Main Character believes he will be able to prove that he can stop the Consortium dead in its tracks, and the Obstacle Character believes the Main Character will be forced to compromise and change his point of view.

JOURNEY #2

  • Type 2. Conceiving ——> Type 3. Being

    As the Main and Obstacle Character come up with more ideas to help him rise among the Consortium, they realize they are still not seeing eye to eye on how to run this operation. The Main Character starts acting more and more impatient with the Obstacle Character, being more and more like the role he is playing to be in among the sting. The Obstacle Character starts taking on a different role, that of the Main Character’s nagging conscience.

SIGNPOST #3

  • Type 3. Being

    Being means acting a role or playing a part. With the Main Character now on the inside of the Consortium, he adopts the role of an up-and-coming organized crime boss. The Obstacle character is only allowed to see him while playing the role of his long-time friend and priest. Having to meet under the gaze of criminals, their relationship becomes one of play-acting.

JOURNEY #3

  • Type 3. Being ——> Type 4. Becoming

    In their meetings, the Obstacle Character argues that if the Main Character is determined to follow through in his plan, and successfully become a mole in the Consortium, the Main Character needs to play the role better than he has been. This will mean acting ruthlessly and letting a few people get hurt. The Main Character argues that he will not cross his personal line, even if that choice blows his cover: if he acted like them, he says he would be no better than they are. The Obstacle Character points out that if the Main Character doesn’t bend his own code a little more, they will both become suspected narcs and probably be exposed. This comes down to the choice between letting crime money be used to save the children’s hospital or letting the hospital be shut down, and the Main Character chooses to save it.

SIGNPOST #4

  • Type 4. Becoming

    Becoming means truly transforming one’s nature. The Obstacle Character points out to the Main Character that The Main Character is no longer the self assured champion of righteousness he once was. He points out that there was no escaping the change that the Main Character made in his personal code to be able to bring the Consortium to some measure of justice. The Main Character responds that the angst he is suffering is a test of his moral fiber. Those who stand against the pressure and survive Become stronger for it. He throws the Obstacle Character out of his office yelling that they will never work together again, but it is clear that the Main Character has seen too much in himself and has become convinced that his moral ethics are no longer as powerful as they used to be.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

Developing the Obstacle Character’s Plot

The Obstacle Character in a story never stands alone, but is always evaluated in terms of his impact on the Main Character. When encoding the Obstacle Character Domain Plot Progression, this is equally true. Unlike the Main Character Type Order which reflects the Main Character’s Growth from one concern to another, the Obstacle Character Type Order reflects the progression of the Obstacle Character’s impact on the Main Character. In other words, each of the four Obstacle Character Types describes a chink in the Main Character’s armor, a weakness that is exploited by the Obstacle Character. This forces the Main Character to consider issues that will ultimately bring him to Change or remain Steadfast.

For example, in our sample story, the Obstacle Character Domain is in the Mind Class. As a result, the Obstacle Character Domain Types are Memory, Preconscious, Conscious, and Subconscious. This means that the Obstacle Character will (in some order) force the Main Character to remember (Memory), to respond differently when there is no time for consideration (Preconscious), to become aware of something (Conscious), and to desire something (Subconscious).

Encode the Obstacle Character’s Types by the impact the Obstacle Character has in that area of concern on the Main Character. In this way, your Obstacle Character will force your Main Character to grow to a point of potential Change. That is the function and purpose of the Obstacle Character in a story.

Obstacle Character Domain Type Order Encoding

Example:

In this fictitious story example, the Obstacle Character Domain has been chosen as Mind. The Type order selected for the Obstacle Character is as follows: Preconscious, Conscious, Memory, and lastly Subconscious.

SIGNPOST #1

  • Type 1. Preconscious

    The Obstacle Character is a happy-go-lucky kind of guy. He sees justice and honor as being flexible, dependent upon the situation. His very attitude causes unthinking responses (Preconscious) in the Main Character, who reacts to every instance of the Obstacle Character’s sliding scale of values as if he were shocked with an electric prod. The Obstacle Character’s actions force the Main Character to lose his temper, make threats he later regrets, and smash things in a fit of self-righteous rage.

JOURNEY #1

  • Type 1. Preconscious ——> Type 2. Conscious

    As the Main Character becomes more obsessed with infiltrating the Consortium and edges toward putting himself under cover, the Obstacle Character’s flexible ways infuriate him more and more. Eventually, the Obstacle Character has had enough of this, and begins to intentionally exhibit his easy attitude in front of the Main Character, so he can make him aware of situations in which rigid views just won’t work.

SIGNPOST #2

Type 2. Conscious

The Obstacle Character carries the argument to the Main Character that no one is immune to temptation. Going under cover in the Consortium will surely cause the Main Character to break if he does not learn to bend. Prophetically, the Obstacle Character makes the Main Character aware (Conscious) that there are some situations in which a fixed code of ethics creates a paradox where one must re-examine one’s ideals.

JOURNEY #2

Type 2. Conscious ——> Type 3. Memory

Coming to see that even though the Main Character is now aware of the issues involved, he still does not relent in his plans, The Obstacle Character begins to bring up “the old days” when they were both beat cops together, fresh out of growing up in the same neighborhood. The Obstacle Character uses the Main Character’s memories to drive home the point that the Main Character was also flexible in those days, and they laughed at the stiffs who usually ended up getting killed or going crazy.

SIGNPOST #3

Type 3. Memory

The Main Character has gone so deeply under cover that no one at the agency has heard from him in days. The Obstacle Character contacts and meets with the Main Character, finding him caught in a web of self-doubt, unable to choose between sticking with his code or helping the children’s hospital. The Obstacle Character forces the Main Character to remember their days growing up together in the same neighborhood. Recalling how the Main Character’s thinking was not always so black and white, he urges the Main Character to learn a lesson from those memories and bend with the wind, rather than snap under the pressures that are upon him.

JOURNEY #3

Type 3. Memory ——> Type 4. Subconscious

Unable to be in further contact with the Main Character who remains under cover, the Obstacle Character gets a few old friends from the early days to cross paths with the Main Character in the attempt to loosen him up. Each has been told by the Obstacle Character to remind the Main Character about “the old days” and how much fun they used to have, how many dreams they shared before they got “locked in” to the system.

(Note to authors: The Obstacle Character need not be physically present in order for his impact to be felt!)

SIGNPOST #4

Type 4. Subconscious

Now that the Main Character is back in the agency, the Obstacle Character passes judgment upon him. He tells the Main Character to look to his heart – look to all the noble things the Main Character had hoped to do in the political realm. The Obstacle Character asks the Main Character how he feels now, knowing that he has violated the very ideals he had intended to run on. “What does your heart tell you now?” he asks of the Main Character, then walks out leaving the dejected Main Character alone.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

Developing the Main Character’s Plot

By now you should be familiar with the concept that the Main Character represents a point of view for the audience. In fact, the audience stands in the shoes of the Main Character and sees what he sees and feels what he feels.

In the Objective Story Domain, the Plot Progression concentrates on the kinds of activities in which the Objective Characters are involved. In the Main Character Domain, Plot Progression describes the stages of the Main Character’s Growth.

Each Type in the Main Character Domain reflects the Main Character’s primary concern at that point in his development. Eventually, he will grow enough to deal with the issue closest to his heart: the Main Character Concern. Let’s look at an example of how you might encode this by continuing to develop the story we presented for Type Order Plot Progression of the Objective Story.

Example:

In this fictitious story example, the Main Character Domain has been chosen to be Universe. The Type order selected for the Main Character is as follows: Past, Progress, Present, and lastly Future.

SIGNPOST #1

  • Type 1. Past

    The Main Character is a law enforcement agency Department Chief with political aspirations. He has zero tolerance for officers of the law who have accepted payoffs from organized crime. As the story opens, his chief Concern of the moment is the past history of graft in his department.

JOURNEY #1

  • Type 1. Past ——> Type 2. Progress

    The Main Character investigates Past instances of Consortium influences in his department. Using this historical information, he gets closer to infiltrating the Consortium.

SIGNPOST #2

  • Type 2. Progress

    The Main Character decides his agents are too weak to resist stealing money from the Consortium. Therefore, he takes the case himself, going undercover and slowly snaking his way into the heart of the Consortium over a period of some months.

JOURNEY #2

  • Type 2. Progress ——> Type 3. Present

    The more the Main Character gets deeper into the Consortium, the more he is trusted with the Consortium’s funds. Also, he finds himself in something of a Godfather position in which local businesses and organizations come to him for help. For a while, he is able to either deny them or pacify them.

SIGNPOST #3

  • Type 3. Present

    Now, well established in the Consortium, the Main Character is faced with a situation in which an important Children’s Hospital will be closed… unless he uses some of the Consortium’s ill-gotten gains to provide the necessary funding.

JOURNEY #3

  • Type 3. Present ——> Type 4. Future

    The Main Character gives in to the needs of others, violating his own zero tolerance code of ethics because of the serious needs of the children. Still, he is able to get the goods on the Consortium enough to stop some of their local plans, though not enough to damage the consortium at core level. When he is “brought in from the cold” by his agency, they treat him as a hero for his success. In contrast, he is troubled by his own ethical failing. He gave in to the temptation to take the money.

SIGNPOST #4

  • Type 4. Future

    Though he is in a better position than ever to break into the political scene and demand strict adherence to a code of ethics, his grand words about his Future are now just ashes in his mouth, as he sits miserably in his office pondering his shortcomings, drained of ambition.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

Developing the Objective Story Plot

When we develop a plot, we are in effect planning a Journey for our characters. In this respect, we might imagine our plot as a road. We have already discussed how that road might be thought of as containing four signposts which define three journeys. Our characters’ Point of Departure is marked by the Type at Signpost #1. This Type is the name of the town at which we are beginning our Journey. In our example, the characters are in the good borough of Learning.

We have also planned a destination for our characters. Again, in our example, we wish our characters to arrive at the village of Obtaining. Obtaining’s city limits are marked by Signpost #4.

In order for our characters to experience the Journey we intend, we also want them to pass through the towns of Understanding and Doing along the way. Once they have arrived at Obtaining, they will have covered all the ground we want them to.

Our Plot is not only made up of Signposts, but also the experience of traversing the road between the Signposts.

If we have four Signposts, we can see three Journeys between them. The Signposts merely provide our audience with an impartial map of the checkpoints along the way. It is the Journeys, however, that involve our audience in the experience of crossing that ground.

Some writers have learned to create stories in a Three Act Structure. Others have worked in a Four Act Structure. In fact, both are needed to map out the terrain and involve the audience.

Now that we know the names of the Signposts in our Objective Story, it is time to describe the kinds of Journeys that will take place on the road between them.

Example:

In our example, the three Journeys are:

  • Topic 1. Learning —–> Topic 2. Understanding
  • Topic 2. Understanding —–> Topic 3. Doing
  • Topic 3. Doing —–> Topic 4. Obtaining.   

For a hypothetical story, we might then encode each Signpost and Journey as follows:

SIGNPOST #1

  • Type 1. Learning

    Our characters Learn that a number of robberies have occurred involving diamonds.

JOURNEY #1

  • Type 1. Learning——> Type 2. Understanding

    As our characters Learn about the robberies that have occurred, they become aware of similarities in the crimes. Eventually, the similarities are too much to be coincidental.

SIGNPOST #2

  • Type 2. Understanding

    Our characters arrive at the Understanding that there is one multi-national consortium involved in the heists.

JOURNEY #2

  • Type 2. Understanding ——> Type 3. Doing

    The more our characters Understand about the consortium, the more they are able to figure out which smaller organizations are involved, as well as the names of specific individuals. Eventually, the characters Understand enough of the organization of the consortium to try and put someone on the inside.

SIGNPOST #3

  • Type 3. DoingOur characters track down and infiltrate the consortium.

JOURNEY #3

  • Type 3. Doing ——> Type 4. ObtainingOur characters get in tighter and tighter with the consortium until they are finally trusted enough to be employed in heist. Through a series of dangerous maneuvers, our characters are able to get word of the heist back to their organization, who alert the authorities.

SIGNPOST #4

  • Type 4 . ObtainingOur characters retrieve the stolen diamonds.

As you can see, the Signposts outline the direction events will take. The Journeys help bring them to life.

From the Dramatica Theory Book

Encoding Plot

Encoding Static Plot Appreciations is very simple. One need only figure out what it is. How and when it is going to actually show up in the story is a completely different issue and is part of Storyweaving.

The way to approach the encoding of Static Plot Appreciations is more or less the same for all of them. As an example, let us consider something fairly conventional: a Goal of Obtaining. Obtaining what? That is what encoding determines. The Goal might be to Obtain the stolen diamonds, a diploma, or someone’s love. In each case, Obtaining has been effectively encoded. Which one you might choose is dependent only upon your personal muse.

Interestingly, there are many ways to stretch an appreciation to fit preconceived story ideas. Suppose that we want to tell a story about a woman who wants to be President. It might be he wants to be elected to the office. That would encode a Goal of Obtaining. Or, he might want to have people believe he was the President on a foreign trip. That would be a Goal of Being. He might already hold the office but feel that he is not authoritative enough and wants to Become presidential. That would encode a Goal of Becoming.

Clearly, there are ways to bend a story concept to fit almost any appreciation. And, in fact, that is the purpose of encoding – to create a symbol that represents an appreciation’s particular bend. So, going around the remaining Types, we might also have a Goal about discovering a president’s Past, how much legislative Progress a president is able to make, the Future of the presidency, whether the president is able to address Present concerns, to Understand the president’s vision, Doing what is necessary regardless of chances for reelection, Learning the President’s hidden agenda, Conceptualizing a new order, Conceiving a new kind of political leverage, trying to evoke the Memory of a past president’s greatness, responding with Preconscious reflexes should the president be attacked, trying to curb a president’s subconscious drives until after the election, making the president Conscious of a problem only he can solve.

Each of the above encodings deals with the presidency, but in a completely different way. This allows an author to stick with the subject matter that interested him in the first place, yet still make sure the Story Goal is accurately encoded. And why even bother? Because the wrong perspective creates the wrong meaning. Anything that is not properly encoded will work against the dramatics of your story, rather than with them, and your story’s overall message and experience will be weakened.

From the Dramatica Theory Book