Category Archives: Narrative Science

What are Characters, Plot, Theme and Genre?

Characters, Plot, Theme and Genre have a secret meaning behind their obvious relevance to stories. In fact, they provide a clue as to why stories exist in the first place.

Stories exist because they represent what we do as individuals and how we relate to one another socially. They provide vicarious experiences without the risk or permanent high passion of real life. And, in the hands of a skilled author, offer a compelling message about the best way to behave in situations that represent or mimic the kinds of circumstances we encounter in our own lives.

Within this context, we can see that Characters illustrate the different kinds of drives and points of view we have, and the message of the story describes how each of these attributes or attitudes fares in regard to the problem at hand.

Plot delineates different methods, means or techniques we might employ to solve that kinds of problem.

Theme outlines the propriety of one value standard over another.

Genre provides an overall perspective that is fully explored over the course of the story.

In this way, a story focuses on a particular scenario that stands as an analogy to any number of similar scenarios we face very day.

This much of an understanding of story structure is fairly obvious, even at face value. But, beneath all that is an even more remarkable truth of what Characters, Plot, Theme and Genre truly are.

For a moment, consider why authors started writing stories in the first place. Better still, consider why people started telling stories in the first place. First you tell the truth to communicate. Then you embellish to leverage. Then you fashion a fiction to make a point.

The fiction you create must bear a substantive reflection of the real world or your audience will not accept the validity of your message. And so, early storytellers sought to accurately represent how individuals go about dealing with problem and making decisions and also how people interact collectively.

Over many generations, the art of storytelling arrived at certain conventions of story structure that represented truisms of human nature. And in this way, we arrive at today’s stories in which there are Characters, Plot, Theme and Genre.

As it turns out, there is a remarkable attribute of these structural conventions: while each is a story element, collectively they create a story that has its own identity, its own personality as if it were a person in its own right in which story elements represent facets of this overall Story Mind.

How did this happen? Because it accurately reflects what happens in real life. In our own lives, each of us has qualities such as reason and skepticism. We use them all to solve problems and make decisions.

When we gather together in groups toward a common purpose, such as a collective goal, the group gradually self-organizes into specific jobs or roles, each of which focuses on just one of our human attributes. For example, every organized group will have at least one member who stands out as the voice of reason while another will assume the role of the group’s skeptic.

Why does this happen? The process of self-organization occurs for two reasons: One, to solve a group problem we need to look at it from all the same angles we use in solving personal problems or we won’t have covered all the possibilities in which to find solutions. Two, if as a group each of us tried to look at all aspects of the problem identically, we don’t get nearly the resolution on the problem, not nearly the degree of detail and deep thought that the group can achieve if each individual becomes a specialist and focuses on just one aspect of the issue.

And so, the group member representing the voice of reason in the group spends most of his time looking into which potential solutions make the most sense and not paying nearly as much attention to other ways of examining the problem. The skeptic in the group is always looking for flaws in potential solutions – alerting the group to shortcomings that may disqualify some solutions in favor of others.

In this way, as the problem solving process continues, the group comes to structure itself as a big mind – a group identity with a common purpose in which each participant represents a different facet of our own individual minds and in which the problem solving processes in which they all engage reflect those very same processes that go on in our own minds between our own facets.

The end result? Stories seek to present the true nature and organization of human beings in a setting of fictional subject matter to make a point about how we the audience (both as individuals and as members of groups) should best go about solving particular kinds of problems.

And now we finally see the secret identity of Characters, Plot, Theme and Genre: by their very nature they reveal the form and function of our own minds, exploded outward into the elements of story structure itself.

Half-life of the Narrative Difference Engine

This morning/s thoughts on narrative:

1. In the real world, narratives exist in the caustic solution of society. They either continually replenish themselves or dissolve into a sea of memes.

2. Narrative structure operates as a difference engine, but one made of magnets rather than gears. As one turns, the other adjust due to polar attraction, maintaining narrative integrity. If, however, sufficient speed and/or force is applied to the turning of the magnets, they may slip past the poles of others without causing a correspond shift; this is the beginning of justification.

Flight Recorder of the Subconscious

A real life example that just occurred:

In the kitchen, I began singing the theme song from the 1965 old west comedy “Cat Ballou” starring Jane Fonda and Lee Marvin.  Upstairs, Teresa (upon hearing this) inquired why I was singing such an obscure song.

My initial answer was that I had no clue.  But, curious now myself, I invoked my subconscious flight recorder.  This is a mental process I learned as a child wherein I am able to play back, in reverse, the subconscious elements which led to a conscious thought or unconscious action.

It is a handy skill, though not unique to me.  Teresa, for example, is also able to do this, and though I have never actually inquired of anyone else as to whether this is possible for them as well, I assume a great number of people have learned to do it.

In this particular case, just before I started singing that theme, I had been looking at the bottle of medication we are giving to our kitty, Clarice, for an upset stomach.  It makes her mouth foam, and we have come to refer to it as her goo.

Also, I was considering posting a picture I took some years ago of our home in the mountains which, due to the dark wood exterior, pine trees, and corn growing in front was very reminiscent of the old west – striking me as such in impression, even though I did not consciously consider this.

And so, I was thinking about “cat goo” in the just prior context of the old west feel of the photograph.  My subconscious mind, like everyone’s, is always trying to understand the situation by seeking patterns of comparatives with experience; it is a survival trait that allows us to anticipate trouble and recognize potential benefits.

In the context of the old west, the nearest pattern in my experience that matched “cat goo” was the sound-alike, Cat Ballou, and my subconscious responded by triggering me to start singing the theme song, thereby alerting my conscious mind to the found pattern match.

And so, from this simple example, we can understand a basic process of the mind that we all employ constantly and unbidden as part of our survival instinct.  Clearly one might apply this knowledge to perceive in their actions and reactions, initiations and responses, a mechanism that can both explain and, with some training, be directed, much as one might direct a lucid dream through practice.

And in writing, a clever author might present his or her readers or audience with the subconscious elements that lead to a character’s unknowing motivations or afterwards to explain why a character acted as it did.

The False Narrative

A false narrative is one in which a complete narrative pattern is perceived in a given situation, but it is not an actual narrative at work in the situation.  The perception of a false narrative can be due to insufficient or inaccurate information or to insufficient or inaccurate assessment.  The creation of a false narrative can be due to naturally occurring narrative patterns, transient contextual framing, inadvertent presentation or intentional deception.

Perception of False Narratives

Insufficient Information:

Like an iceberg, many of the elements of any given real-world narrative are often hidden from view, beneath the surface or around the corner.  Because narratives are fractal in nature, a portion of a larger narrative may appear to be complete in and of itself, much as a corner cut from a hologram will still present a complete image, just not from all angles that are available in the whole.  So, while the pattern of a narrative may be present, it may not be driven by its own internal dynamics, but by those of a larger narrative of which it is a part.

Inaccurate Information:

Narratives do not exist in a vacuum.  Rather, an infinite number of narratives are continually moving through the same narrative space, sometimes hinged, sometimes colliding, sometimes drawing each other off true by their contextual influence, sometimes passing each other without affect.

When there is some contextual effect, all narratives involved in this connection are warped by the presence of the others, leading to a lens-like phenomenon in which some elements are emphasized or deemphasized, or in the most severe instances may be completely hidden or may not really exist at all as they are no more than virtual images of no substance, established solely by the collective influence of the elements from other surrounding narratives.

Insufficient Assessment:

In social psychology the term fundamental attribution error describes a cognitive bias in which an individual interprets another person’s actions as driven primarily by intent while deemphasizing or disregarding any external or environmental conditions which may have influenced their actions.

Inaccurate Assessment:

The opposite bias is the actor-observor error in which an individual overemphasizes the impact of external factors on his or her own actions.  These two varieties of the human desire to find meaning illustrate that meaning is not so much found as imposed.  In fact, either of these biases generates a false narrative.

Creation of False Narratives

Naturally Occurring Narrative Patterns:

The human mind seeks meaning in its environment by imposing templates upon its perception until a pattern is found that, for desired purposes, fits observation sufficiently.  A byproduct of this attribute is that we see animals in clouds, gods in constellations, images in ink blots and narratives in random elements.  As a result, we continually create  false narratives which appear to be supported by the situations that surround us, rejecting them only when the course of events diverges from narrative prediction.

Transient Contextual Framing:

No narrative is forever.  As long as it maintains itself as an internally driven confluence of structure and dynamics, it may be perceived as a closed system, constant in its function.  In other words, a true narrative maintains its identity through internal mechanisms.  Conversely, a false narrative may appear internally driven when, in fact, it is externally maintained by forces outside the apparent narrative, like a puppet on a string.  Such an apparent narrative provides neither an accurate description of the nature of the elements it contains, nor accurately predicts the course they will actually take.

Inadvertent Presentation:

Any narrative element, by itself, may have an infinite number of meanings.  It is only when it is taken in conjunction with other elements that the range of possible meanings for that element becomes constrained.  Eventually, sufficient interconnections among elements may be established to limit the potential meanings to the singular.

If, however, the initial element is misinterpreted in meaning, than each succeeding element may be cast into a another misinterpretation by the observer in the attempt to make it fit with the initial interpretation.  Individuals who do not provide sufficient ongoing clarification may inadvertently present a false narrative.  Individuals who do not intend to present a narrative may inadvertently present information that may be taken as one.

Intentional Deception:

False narratives may be created with the intent to deceive  by limiting the number of narrative elements provided so that the observer completes the bulk of the narrative themselves, thereby taking ownership of the narrative by personalizing it.  This can be accomplished by limiting the scope of information available and/or the time in which to consider it.  In this manner, the author establishes a constrained narrative space in which both content and context are controllable to a desired effect.

In Conclusion

In the end, no single narrative is ever completely true or completely false, except within the constraints of  a specified span of time and scope of .  As the philosopher David Hume  defined truth, while it works, it is truth, when it fails to work it is no longer truth.  Eastern philosophy holds that the Tao that can be spoken is not the eternal Tao, meaning that no truth can ever be so fully defined as to be universal Truth.  Zen professes that you cannot step into the same river twice, and American slang proclaims “that was then, this is now.”

Ultimately, rather than focusing solely on truth, awareness of the value and function of false narratives opens new perspectives by which one may become liberated from a singular point of view so that any consideration might be more flexible in the knowledge that while one narrative may appear to be definitive, there may be others which, even if in complete apparent contradiction with one another, may all, in fact, be equally and simultaneously both true and false.

These observations and techniques for working with false narratives are drawn from our Dramatica Narrative Structuring Software.  Click here to try it risk-free for 90 days.

Melanie Anne Phillips  ~ Co-creator, Dramatica

The Authorless Narrative

Not every narrative has an author. Just as art may be in the eye of the beholder, the existence of a narrative may be in the eye of the observer.

We are all pattern makers. This is evident in everything from ink blot tests to seeing figures in constellations, faces in wood grain and images in clouds. The patterns we make and how we come to make them are reflective of the perspectives and processes of our own minds.

We project these patterns on the external world in the attempt to better understand and predict it.  Therefore, the patterns we see in the real world tell us as much about ourselves as about our environment.

Fictional narratives are our attempt to document the nature and essence of the way people think, feel, and interact as determined through observation and internal exploration.

Real world narratives are the patterns and systems into which we organize our thoughts, feelings our relationships with others, as evidenced through the patterns and systems we create.

Though one might expect all fictional narratives to be intentional, consider sub-text and patterns of meaning that illuminate the nature of the author, but were unintentional and unseen by the author in the process of creation.

A single work, be it a simple tale, a fully argued story, a song ballad or stage play, may have many multiple narratives operating in the same narrative space simultaneously.  Individual readers or audience members may tune into several, many or none of these additional narratives beyond the principal intended ones.

A good example of this would be a story that was taken very seriously by the author, but strikes most of the audience as laughable – a comedy in fact.  And, what’s more, the audience may actually believe that the work was intended as a comedy, though that could be diametrically opposed to the intent of the author.  What is a passionately argued point of view to the author may appear as simple pandering or propaganda to an audience.

In fact, two different audiences may interpret a given work’s narrative meaning differently, as experienced by stage actors whose performance as a company may be virtually identical from show to show, but is received completely differently by each audience that enters the theater.

Further, contextual changes in the real world may cast a narrative into a different meaning than its initial impact, or may even appear to reflect a different author’s intent.

In the real world, when people gather together for a common interest or purpose, they self-organize into a narrative pattern.  For example, we each possess reason and also skepticism.  These qualities are part of a palette of human traits we bring to bear in the making of narrative patterns.

When we assemble, we  tend to specialize with each individual focusing on applying one of our problem solving methods, rather than having a collection of people all acting as general practitioners.  In this way, each specialist is able to delve deeper into the method they fulfill as they do not have to consider the others more than superficially.

An automatic byproduct of specialization is that each individual comes to represent a different aspect of the mind so that, as a group, they form a representation of a single mind in which each attribute has been made tangible and incarnate in one of the members.

It is this self-organizing principal and this externally projected model of the mind that was observed, documented and refined by hundreds of generations of storytellings until they became fixed in the conventions of narrative structure.

To the point of this article, since there is seldom, if ever, a conscious decision among the members of a newly formed group to organize themselves into a model of the mind the narrative patterns they form are authorless.

Certainly, the study and application of narrative is a popular endeavor of any larger organization these days, and justifiably so.  But the understanding of narrative is as a story, not as a self-organizing principal of society based on replication of internal patterns of psychology in an individual.

Let us then consider that when several narrative groups come together toward a common interest or purpose, the groups themselves will self-organize into a larger narrative – a fractal of the structural/dynamic patterns of each individual group.  Each group, then, become a character in the larger narrative, just as each individual in a single group is a character within that narrative.  This fractal replication may continue infinitely up one fractal dimension to the next until the very nations of the earth are acting a characters within a single global narrative.  I call this fractal psychology.

As each individual, group or group of groups operates, there are many free agents in the social petri dish who form the analog medium in which each narrative resonates.  Just as there may be two colonies of bacteria in a single dish or growth medium, there may be two social narratives in the same social venue or environment.

These multiple authorless narratives may stand alone and separate so that they do not interfere with or influence each other, or they may touch edges, overwhelm one another, combine, join together as members of a larger narrative, cancel each other out, or pass through each other like colliding galaxies traveling from here to there and sharing the same space, but never or rarely having any direct interaction or collision among their members.

Narratives, like galaxies or atoms are mostly open space.  Though they may rarely interact directly, each element of a narrative possesses some degree of the equivalent of gravitational pull and momentum so that, both as it components and as a whole, a narrative extends beyond its borders to exert social influence even where it has no actual connection.

Further, each element of a narrative may, in fact, be a member of another or several other narratives, so that each of us has many stories in our lives built around each individual relationship and function, be it as a parent, employee or club member.

It is the complex influences of the multiple magnitude overlapping narratives in any given social space the creates complex interference patterns as they operate, much like several stones dropped into a pond a the same time.

Some of these influences create standing waves of various durations: peaks, the shorter being thought of as memes and the longer being thought of as social conventions.  Similarly, there are troughs which become temporary social dead zones or transient restrictions of law, and in longer form fossilize into taboos.

But most important of all, because we (as both individuals and collectively as groups) create patterns, even from chaos (as in clouds and constellations), we seek to impose narrative forms on the peaks and troughs to find meaning that will provide understanding and prediction – a natural survival technique.

Though truly chaotic, the conjunction of the undulating influences of multiple narratives in a social space does create momentary truths that effectively represent the collection impact of all operating systems within the space, though the accuracy and duration of these truths varies.  And so, meta-narrative forms may be perceived that, though they have no author, still provide an organizing matrix for immediate decisions.

In addition, the manner in which the nature of an imposed narrative changes in the endless flux of the multi-narrative influences in the medium of the social environment may indicate collective inertia and collective acceleration, deceleration, sharpening or defocusing of narrative elements, not to mention the overall course and course-changes of the imposed narrative pattern.

And , since the human mind, and therefore the narrative mind, possess both a binary logical understanding derived from our neural networks and a passionate drive derived from the analog standing wave undulations of our own biochemistry projected into the personal interactions within the open space of a social group narrative group, narratives are imposed/perceived upon chaos both in reason and emotion and call us to action both in our individual and collective heads and hearts.

Finally, as we all (individuals and groups) have a conscious mind as well as memory, sub-conscious and pre-conscious filters, narratives may be imposed at any or all of these levels of consideration, and therefore acted upon both in calculated and responsive manners, both cognitively and affectively.

And so, the very fabric of culture truly has no author, for it is neither intended nor directed.  Yet ultimately, the broadest of these perceived narrative patterns are far beyond our ability to grasp in their entirety, and are therefore felt to possess universal truth, while the  perpetrator of these trans-human authorless narratives is assumed to be a deity.

Narrative Dynamics (Part 4)

Excerpted from the book, Narrative Dynamics

The Dramatica Model

In this book, I’m documenting the development of a whole new side of the Dramatica theory – story dynamics.

Dramatica is a model of story structure, but unlike any previous model, the structure is flexible like a Rubik’s Cube crossed with a Periodic Table of Story Elements.  If you paste a story element name on each face of each little cube that makes up the Rubik’s Cube, you get an idea of how flexible the Dramatica model is.

That’s what sets Dramatica apart from other systems of story development and also what gives it form without formula.  Now, imagine that while the elements on each little cube already remain on that cube, they don’t have to stay on the same face.  In other words, though there will be an element on each face, which ones it is next to may change, in fact will change from story to story.

What makes the elements rearrange themselves within the structure?  Narrative Dynamics.  Think of each story point as a kind of topic that needs to be explored to fully understand the problem or issue at the heart of a story.  That’s how an author makes a complete story argument.  But, just as in real life, the order in which we explore issues is almost as important as the issues themselves.  At the very least, that sequence tells us a lot about the person doing the exploring.  In the case of story, this is most clearly seen in the Main Character.  So, the order of exploration of the issues by the Main Character illuminate what is driving him personally.

The Dramatica model already includes a number of dynamics that describe the forces at work in the heart and mind of the Main Character, as well as of the overall story, the character philosophically opposed to the Main Character and of the course of their relationship as well.  But, in a structural model – one in which the focus is on the topics and their sequence, there are a lot of dynamics that simply aren’t easily seen.

For example, you might know that in the second act, the Main Character is going to be dealing with issues pertaining to his memories.  But how intensely will he focus on that?  How long will he linger?  Will his interest wane, grow, or remain consistent over the course of his examination of these issues.  From a structural point of view, you just can’t tell.

And that is why after all these years I’m developing the dynamic model – to chart, predict and manipulate those “in-between” forces that drive the elements of structure, unseen.  Part of that effort is to chart the areas in which dynamics already exist in the current structural projection of the model.

Read Narrative Dynamics

Available in Paperback and on Kindle

Narrative Dynamics (Front Cover)

Notes on Timelock and Optionlock

Working on a new dynamic model of narrative to complement the structural model of Dramatica.  Coming up with some interesting thoughts about Timelock and Optionlock as defined in Dramatica and expanded into dynamics.

Here’s some notes:

Timelock in Dramatica is defined as having a narrative come to a climax because it runs out of time – either a deadline or an amount of time, even if spread out non-continously.

Optionlock is defined as running out of options, such as “three wishes” – when the last one is made, it’s over.  But it can also be making something large enough or small enough, such as trying to get enough hot air into a balloon to take to the skies before the cannibals arrive.

Deadline – you can retire at 60 and get social security, but each year you wait up until age 70 you will get more per month for the rest of your life.  But, if you retire anytime after 70, you won’t get any additional beyond the maximum.  What kind of lock is that?  Perhaps a combination of timelock and optionlock, or is it best looked at as “optimal time” – or some sort of time constriction rather than a lock?

Timelock vs. Optionlock – Mom: “Time to come in” Child: “Just one more game” or “Just five more minutes.” and did “Time to come in” really mean a specific time, or a time of day such as “getting too dark?”

Early man was almost all optionlock.  The seasons are more conditions than specific times.  Even looking at a solstice being marked by ancient stones, is it really a time or set of conditions.  Timelock requires a regular repeating time that is independent of what is being measured and used as a temporal measuring stick.  So, a solstice or equinox is what is being measured and cannot therefore also be the measuring stick.  Planting and harvest are not tied to solstice and equinox, but are around them, one way or the other, more analog than discrete.

Sundials provide true timelocks, but hour glasses do not, unless they are truly an hour, calibrated against a sundial, for example.  Otherwise, they can be arbitrary in time and are optionlock devices instead, such as “when the sand runs out.”

Timelock thinking is more natural for men who think in discrete terms, than for women who think in more analog terms – one is particle, the other wave, linear logic vs. holistic logic.  This, of course, is only dictated by biology at the preconscious level. The other three “levels” of the mind (subconscious, memory, and conscious) are determined to be timelock or optionlock by experience, training, and choice, respectively.

Optionlock thinking is more geared toward child rearing (when child is hungry, when it is sleepy) – Timelock is geared more toward goals, first this, then that or, as would be the case with primitive man, timelocks were of a lower resolution such as before, now, after.

Blue collar work place often timelock (time cards, number of hours, quitting time).  White collar often optionlock (salary, when the job is done, when it is good enough).

Inner city culture is more optionlock – poverty leads to optionlock thinking as any one time is as good as another, conditions more important, tune into the rhythms of the city.  Sensing danger an opportunity as an ebb and flow, rather than clocking it against an objective measure.  Much more like primitive man, in touch with the earth.  A complex society becomes so awash in tiny discrete elements that comprise its systems that at the bottom, they cease to be perceived as structures and are connected to as dynamics.

Blue collar work requires timelocks.  Those in poverty live and are trained in optionlock. This provides an effective barrier to improving one’s condition is that the non-working class below blue collar cannot perform to timelock expectations, preventing them from taking regular work, leading to the opportunities being day labor, migrant labor, gang membership, or joining the military.  The military is an optionlock organization in which one is “on” all the time, and do whatever is asked whenever it is asked.

On the other side of blue collar the white collar folk are all optionlock.  They are usually the more intelligent because in school, tests are timed.  The smartest never learn the timelock because the usually finish before the time limit, so they are not trained out of optionlock thinking, which is inherent to children and only abandoned when one moves away from the here and now to consider consequences and long-term benefits.  Makes corporate leaders more like children, reaping what they can now, and the hell with later.

To reform society must be aware of time/space strata and their connection to social strata.

All for now….

Suggested further reading…

Beyond Dramatica – available for Kindle

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Narrative Dynamics (Part 3)

Excerpted from the book, Narrative Dynamics

Transmutation of Narrative Particles and Waves

In this second article in the Dynamic Model series, I’m going to explore really intriguing problem – how particles can be transmuted into waves and vice versa, in terms of narrative.

Why this important to writers and even more important to psychologists and social scientists may not be immediately apparent, so first I’ll outline its potential usefulness and also how it is essential to the expansion of the Dramatica theory into a whole new realm.

Stories might end in success or failure of the effort to achieve the goal.  But how big a success, or how great a failure.  Now you are talking a matter of degree.  What’s more, is it a permanent success/failure or a temporary one?  And if temporary, does it always remain at the same level or does it vary, getting bigger, smaller, or oscillating in a symmetrical cyclic or complex manner?

Now, apply this to a character’s motivation.  It may be motivated by one particular kind of thing, but is that motivation increasing or decreasing?  It is accelerating or decelerating?  Is it cyclic or complex, is it transmuting from one nature of motivation to another?  And for that matter, how does a character actually change from one nature to another in a leap of faith?  Up the magnification and ask, “can I see the exact moment a character’s mind changes from one way of looking at the world to another?”

When is that magic moment at which Scrooge changes?  How long does it last?  Can we find the spot at which he is one way now and another way a moment later?  Is the change a process or an immediate timeless shift from one state to another?  What exactly is the mechanism – not the mechanism that leads him to the point of change, but the exact time at which that change occurs?

When can we say that a light switch is off versus being on?  Is it how many electrons are crossing the gap, is it the position of the switch at a visual resolution?  Is it the light getting brighter?  How bright?  How fast?  How about a mercury light that fades on and off at 60 Hz?  When it is on the nadir of the down cycle is it off?  And therefore, does the exact moment of a character’s change depend upon momentum?  Inertia?  Zeno’s paradox?

If writers could follow the rise and fall, the ebb and flow of dramatic potentials, resistances, currents, and powers discreetly for every element, every particle in a story’s structure, one could predict the cognitive and affective impact on the readers or audience as a constantly changing bundle of waveforms, each one thread or throughline in the undulating unbroken progression of experience.

Now project this into psychology, societal concerns, stock market analysis, weather prediction – such a dynamic model would enable incredibly accurate projections as well as far more detailed and complete snap analyses.

BUT

In order for these applications to be realized, we need not only a dynamic model, but also the means of connecting it to the structural model.  In other words, we need to develop a particle/wave continuum in which particles can become waves can become particles in an endless flow of cascading shifts and transmutations.

So how does this interface work?  What stands between particle and wave that alters one to another?

In the next installment of the Dynamic Model series, I’ll offer some conjectures.

Read Narrative Dynamics

Available in Paperback and on Kindle

Narrative Dynamics (Front Cover)