In psychology, Multiple Personality Disorder describes a person who has more than one complete personality. Typically, only one of those personalities will be active at any given time. This is because they usually share attributes, and so only one can have that attribute at any particular moment.
Stories can also suffer from Multiple Personality Disorder if more than one character represents a single attribute. In such a case, both should not be able to appear in the story at the same time. If they do, the audience feels that the story is fragmented, or more simply put, the story has developed a split-personality.
Dramatica Narrative Theory sees a story as representing a single mind. Most writers have been taught that characters, plot, theme, and genre are people, doing things, illustrating value standards, in an overall setting and mood. In contrast, Dramatica sees characters, plot, theme, and genre as representing different “families of thought” which go on in the story mind as it grapples with a central problem.
Characters are the “drives” of the Story Mind, which often conflict as they do in real people. Plot describes the methods used by the Story Mind in an attempt to find a solution to its central problem. Theme represents the Story Mind’s conflicting value standards, which must be played out one against another to determine the best way of evaluating the problem. Genre describes the Story Mind’s overall personality.
Traditional story theory states that each character must be a complete person to be believable to an audience. But because the characters represent the independent drives of a single Story Mind, each is not really a complete person but is rather a facet of a complete mind. In fact, if you make each character complete, they will all be overlapping, and will give your story a split-personality.
It is in the story TELLING stage where characters take on the trappings of a complete person, not in the story STRUCTURE. Each character needs to be given traits and interests, which round out the character’s “presence,” making it feel like a real human being. But these trappings and traits are not part of the dramatic structure. They are just window dressing – clothes for the facets to wear so the audience can better relate to them on a personal level.
Think about the characters you have seen in successful stories. They might represent Reason, Emotion, Skepticism, or function as the Protagonist or Antagonist, for example. Each of these kinds of characters is an “archetype” because it contains a whole family of drives in one character. For example, a Protagonist may contain the drive to “pursue,” and also the drive to be a self-starter, “pro-action.” Because these drives work together in harmony, the character becomes archetypal.
The individual drives don’t have to be bundled in an archetype, however. In fact, each single drive might be assigned to a different character, creating a multitude of simple characters. Or, characters might get several drives but conflicting ones. These characters are more “complex” because their internal make-up is not completely consistent.
Regardless of how the drives (also called character “elements”) are assigned, each drive should appear in one and only one character. If not, your story may develop Multiple Personality Disorder and leave your audience unable to relate to the story as a whole.
A lot of books about writing describe the importance of a “Love Interest.” Other books see a Love Interest as unnecessary and cliché. What does Dramatica Narrative Theory say? As with most dramatic concepts, Dramatica pulls away the storytelling to take a clear look at the underlying structure.
A Love Interest has both storytelling and structural components. The storytelling side is what most people think of – A Love Interest is the character with whom the “hero” or “heroine” is in love. Simple! But what does that tell us about the kind of person the Love Interest is, or even what kind of relationship the two have between them? Not a whole lot!
For example, the Love Interest might be the leader of the enemy camp, in which case he or she is the Antagonist! Or, the Love Interest might be the supportive, stay-in-the-background type, in which case he or she is the Sidekick. In both cases, the hero is in love with this person, but structurally each positions the relationship on different sides of the effort to achieve the story goal. Also, the Love Interest might be a person of noble heart, a misguided do-gooder, or even a crook! And, any of these types of people might fit into either of the two example scenarios we’ve just outlined.
As we can see, the structural and storytelling elements have little to do with one another, other than the fact that there will be some of each. So, what can Dramatica do to help provide some guidelines for developing a Love Interest that works?
Lets start with some basics. Dramatica sees there being two types of characters in every story (and a prize in every box!). The first type contains the Objective Characters such as the Protagonist, Antagonist, Sidekick, or Guardian, who are defined by their dramatic functions.
The Protagonist strives to achieve the goal; the Antagonist tries to prevent that, for example. In and of itself, this aspect of character outlines how the participants line up in regard to the logistic issues of the story. But there is a second side of the dynamics of every story that center on the second type of characters – the Subjective Characters.
There are two Subjective Characters, and unlike their Objective relatives who represent functions, the Subjective Characters represent points of view. These characters are the Main Character and the Obstacle Character. The Main Character represents the audience position in the story. The Obstacle Character represents the point of view, ideology, or belief system opposite that of the Main Character.
The Objective Characters represent the “headline” in the story and the Subjective Characters represent the “heartline.” Often, the character who is the Protagonist is also given the Main Character job as well. This creates the archetypal “hero” who drives the story forward, but who also represents the audience position in the story. Of course, the Main Character (audience position) might be with ANY of the Objective Characters, not just the Protagonist. For example, in most of the James Bond films, Bond is actually the Antagonist and Main Character because although he represents the audience position, he is also called into play AFTER the real Protagonist (the villain) has made his first move to achieve a goal (of world conquest.) It is Bond’s functional role as Antagonist to try and stop it!
Not quite as often, the Antagonist is given the extra job of also being the Obstacle Character. In such a case, not only does the Antagonist try to stop the Protagonist, but he (or she) also tries to change the belief system of the Main Character, whether the Main Character is the Protagonist or another of the Objective Characters by function.
The worst thing you can do is to make the Protagonist the Main Character AND the Antagonist the Obstacle Character. Why? Because then the two “players” in the story are not only diametrically opposed in function regarding the story goal, but are also diametrically opposed in belief system. As a result, it is difficult for the audience to figure out which of the two throughlines them is being developed by any given event between them.
What’s worse, as an author it is easy to get caught up in the momentum of the drama between them so that one skips steps in the development of one throughline because the other “carries” it. Well it may carry the vigor, but it doesn’t hold water. Both throughlines must each be fully developed or you end up with a melodrama or worse, plot holes you could drive a truck through.
The solution is either to assign the Main Character and Protagonist functions to one character and split the Antagonist/Obstacle Character functions into two separate characters, or vice versa.
And this brings us to the Dramatic Triangle and how it is used to create a sound Love Interest relationship.
First, let’s assume we assign the Main Character and Protagonist jobs to the same player to create an archetypal hero. Now, this hero (we’ll call him Joe) is a race car driver who is vying with the Antagonist for the title of best overall driver of the year. Each race is a new contest between them with their balance so close that it all comes down to the last race of the season.
But there is something troubling Joe’s heart – his relationship with Sally. Sally is very supportive of Joe (a Sidekick, in fact) but Joe feels that if he really loves Sally, he should quit racing to avoid the potential of an accident that would leave him dead or crippled and ruin her life. Why does he feel like this? Because his own dad was a racer, whose untimely death on the track left his mother devastated, and ultimately committed to an asylum. (Hey, I never said this example would be creative!)
In any event, Sally doesn’t feel that way at all. She would rather see Joe go out in a blaze of glory having done his best than to spend her life with a limp shell. She tries to tell him, but he just won’t be convinced. He starts to play it safer and safer as his worries grow (because the closer he gets to the final race, the more it resembles the chain of events that happened to his dad.) Finally, he has lost his edge and his lead and it all comes down to that final event.
Now, realizing that she would never be able to live with Joe if she felt that he lost the title because of her, Sally tells him at the final pit stop that if he doesn’t win the race, she is leaving him. Joe must now decide whether he should stick with his approach born from fear of hurting another, or let Sally be her own judge of what is right for her and put the pedal to the metal.
What does he do? Up to you the author. He wins the race and Sally’s heart. He hasn’t got the courage and loses both race and girl. He loses the race, but Sally realizes how deep his love must be and decides to stay with him. He wins the race, but there is such a dangerous near-fatal crash that Sally realizes Joe was right and leaves him anyway because she discovers she really can’t take it after all.
Or, you could have Sally want him to quit and Joe refuse, resulting in four other endings with a more cliché flavor.
Why this long example, to show how the conflict of the logistics of the plot occur between Joe and the Antagonist, but the emotions of the personal relationship occur between Joe and the Sidekick, Sally.
If you charted it out, there are two throughlines. Both hinge on Joe, and then they split farther and farther apart to connect to the Antagonist on one and to the Obstacle Character, Sally on the other. In this way, the events that happen in the growth of each relationship are much easier to see for the audience and much easier to complete for the author, yet they both converge on the “hero” to give him the greatest possible dramatic strength.
Now, you could hinge them both on the Antagonist, as in a James Bond film, and slip the Protagonist from the Obstacle Character. Look at “Tomorrow Never Dies.” The Protagonist is the mad newspaper mogul. The Obstacle Character is the beautiful Chinese agent (whose function is muddled dramatically by Bond’s relationship with the mogul’s wife). Bond is Antagonist AND Main Character, but the dramatic triangle is still functional.
Silence of the Lambs: Starling is the Main Character / Antagonist, Jamie Gumm (Buffalo Bill) is the Protagonist (after all, she didn’t go looking for a crime and THEN he committed one!) Hannibal is the Obstacle Character and perhaps a Love Interest of a sort (as described by the director on the Criterion Edition DVD.)
For a different approach, consider Witness: John Book is the Obstacle Character / Antagonist, the crooked Chief of Police is the Protagonist. Rachel, the Amish Girl is the Love Interest and Main Character. Or is John Book (Harrison Ford) the Love Interest to Rachel? It’s hard to tell because John is such an active Objective Character that he carries more momentum than Rachel, even though we are positioned in her shoes. The important point is that even if the Protagonist is made to be the Obstacle Character and the Antagonist and Main Character are split into two different people, the dramatic triangle still exists!
The dramatic triangle is one of the best structural ways to focus attention on one character even while splitting the headline and heartline to make a more pleasing and complete story. It can be used for “buddy” pictures and even used when the heartline isn’t between lovers or even likers but between two people who would like to see each other’s emotions destroyed by slyly manipulating the other to change his or her beliefs. Think of all those “cheat the devil” stories in which the Main Character/Protagonist is after something and the devil tries to convince the Main Character to sell his soul to get it. Yep, the dramatic triangle at work again!
So, in considering whether or not to have a Love Interest in your story, simply consider whether that would make your storytelling cliché or not. Either way, consider the dramatic triangle as a means of putting heart into an otherwise logistically mechanical plot.
Perhaps the best way to instill real feelings in a character is to stand in his or her shoes and write from the character’s point of view. Unfortunately, this method also holds the greatest danger of undermining the meaning of a story.
As an example, suppose we have two characters, Joe and Tom, who are business competitors. Joe hates Tom and Tom hates Joe. We sit down to write an argument between them. First, we stand in Joe’s shoes and speak vehemently of Tom’s transgressions. Then, we stand in Tom’s shoes and pontificate on Joe’s aggressions. By adopting the character point of view, we have constructed an exchange of honest and powerful emotions. We have also undermined the meaning of our story because Joe and Tom have come across as being virtually the same.
A story might have a Protagonist and an Antagonist, but between Joe and Tom, who is who? Each sees himself as the Protagonist and the other as the Antagonist. If we simply write the argument from each point of view, the audience has no idea which is REALLY which.
The opposite problem occurs if you stand back from your characters and assign roles as Protagonist and Antagonist without considering the characters’ points of view. In such a case, the character clearly establish the story’s meaning, but they seem to be “walking through” the story, hitting the marks, and never really expressing themselves as actual human beings.
The solution, of course, is to explore both approaches. You need to know what role each character is to play in the story’s overall meaning – the big picture. But, you also must stand in their shoes and write with passion to make them human.
Hello. I’ve been using Dramatica Pro for about a year now. I’m developing a script for a graphic novel. (It may in fact be a series of three) I used [Dramatica’s] query engine in the early stages of development and have spent several months now writing (and drawing) deeper into the concept. I’m looking for practical suggestions for how to work back in DP: I still have not found the ONE storyform and instead am working between 3 storyforms as each one suggests thematic conflicts that describe the story in a very useful way. Do you have any suggestions for using specific reports or processes for working with three storyforms? There are so many ways to work with the program that I always feel I am overlooking some obvious tools…for example there may be a way to work with a particular set of reports.
Best Wishes,
Louise
My reply:
Hi, Louise.
The key is to note that each of Dramatica’s four throughlines has its own theme and its own thematic conflict. So, Main Character, Obstacle Character, Objective Story, and Subjective Story will each deal with different thematic issues.
This means you actually have four themes in every story form. They aren’t independent though – each is like a harmonic of the others. If a single theme hits a particular note, all four themes work in concert to create a chord. That’s why the four themes need to relate to each other in very specific ways.
So, you may find that if you look at all four throughlines, the three major themes you want to explore are already there.
Alternatively, many novels, especially graphic novels, are not really single stories but works in which a number of individual stories intertwine. As a result, there is not going to be a single storyform for the entire novel. Rather, each of the separate stories needs to be developed with its own storyform to ensure that its internal structural logic is complete and makes sense.
How these stories are woven together is really a storytelling decision – not a structural one, as long as each story makes sense and feels right in and of itself.
As for reports in Dramatica Pro, the “All Themes” report and the “Four Throughlines” report should help. You can also get the information your are looking for in the Story Points window for your storyform.
In this episode of the 113 part videos series, we explore how remakes and adaptations can go awry, and how to prevent it. Perhaps the biggest mistake made when remaking or adapting an earlier work or one in a different medium is to make changes to the story without considering whether those alterations are to just the subject matter, just the story structure, or both.
If subject matter, setting, timeframe and so on are all that is changed, then anything goes, as long as it works for both author and audience. But if an underlying structural item is change and the rest of the structure is not altered to support that different dramatic force, then what was a sound structure in the original will became a flawed structure in the new work.
There are 8 essential archetypal characters, each of which represents a different aspect of our own minds.
The Protagonist portrays our initiative, Antagonist our reticence to change. Reason is our intellect, Emotion our passion. Skeptic is our self-doubt, Sidekick our self-confidence. Finally, Guardian represents our conscience and the Contagonist is temptation.
Naturally, each must be developed as a complete person as well as in its dramatic function so that the reader or audience might identify with them. Yet underneath their humanity, each archetype illustrates how a different specific aspect of ourselves fares when trying to solve the problem at the heart of the story.
In this manner, stories not only involve us superficially, but provide an underlying message about how we might go about solving similar human problems in our own lives.
Here are the eight archetypal characters, described in terms of their dramatic functions:
PROTAGONIST: The traditional Protagonist is the driver of the story: the one who forces the action. We root for it and hope for its success.
ANTAGONIST: The Antagonist is the character directly opposed to the Protagonist. It represents the problem that must be solved or overcome for the Protagonist to succeed.
REASON: This character makes its decisions and takes action on the basis of logic, never letting feelings get in the way of a rational course.
EMOTION: The Emotion character responds with its feelings without thinking, whether it is angry or kind, with disregard for practicality.
SKEPTIC: Skeptic doubts everything — courses of action, sincerity, truth — whatever.
SIDEKICK: The Sidekick is unfailing in its loyalty and support. The Sidekick is often aligned with the Protagonist though may also be attached to the Antagonist.
GUARDIAN: The Guardian is a teacher or helper who aids the Protagonist in its quest and offers a moral standard.
CONTAGONIST: The Contagonist hinders and deludes the Protagonist, tempting it to take the wrong course or approach.
Here’s an answer to writer with a common problem of not seeing their saved work when they open StoryWeaver after saving a file.
Hi, Sue
This is Melanie, creator of StoryWeaver.
Here’s how it works. StoryWeaver saves in a proprietary compressed file format to save space on the hard drive. So, if you try to open it directly in another program like Word, all you’ll see are strange symbols because it is not a text document.
Every StoryWeaver saved file has all the questions and information, the question tree layout of the nested folders that show up on the left, and all the work you have entered. All these things are contained in every file, so when you save, you save everything, including the questions and the tree view. All a file needs is to be opened in StoryWeaver and all that material shows up.
When StoryWeaver opens, it is always with a blank file, just like Microsoft Word which opens to a blank page. In StoryWeaver’s case, a blank file has all the question text and the tree-view with all the folders and cards on the left, but no text of yours. Then, you enter your answers to the questions and save the file. If it is not working with the disc icon, try going to the File menu and selecting Save from there.
On the rare computer, the file won’t save because it things you are trying to save the actual template of questions that loads when StoryWeaver opens. It won’t allow saving changes to that template because you’ll need it pristine for future stories. So, you need to do a Save As, rather than just a Save the first time you want to save a file you are working on.
On most computers, you can just double click on the scroll file on your desktop or wherever you saved it and it will automatically open StoryWeaver and load that file. But on some computers, double-clicking directly on the file either doesn’t open StoryWeaver or in a few cases, tries to open another program instead.
That is why we suggested first opening StoryWeaver, then going to the File menu and choosing OPen to load the file from inside StoryWeaver, rather than directly by clicking on the file.
Now I had one fellow last week who had a similar problem, and out of the thousands of StoryWeavers we’ve sold, it was the first time I’d seen this particular problem. He could open files, but he couldn’t see the work he’d entered. He sent the file to me, but when I opened it, all his work was there. I sent him a screen shot so he could see for himself. He determined it was some setting on his computer.
He was running Windows 7 and so am I, so I don’t think it is the operating system in any way. Based on what you’ve said, I’m not sure if you are having the same kind of problem, but there is one thing another writer discovered. Sometimes, if you accidentally hold down the Control key or the Function key while typing, it can put an “illegal” but invisible character into the text you are writing, and that can prevent the text from being saved properly.
Other than that, I don’t know of anything that would solve your problem, but I hope this helps.
Another episode from my video series on story structure recorded in 1999…
In this episode of the 113 part video series we explore one of the most useful, yet most difficult, tools an author can possess: the ability to tell the difference between story structure and storytelling. Typically, authors think of their stories in terms of the people in it, how they relate, what happens to them, and what it all means. But this is mixing storytelling with story structure because all subject matter is storytelling.
To see this, consider a Protagonist – a structural character. The Protagonist is the prime mover of the effort to achieve the story goal – a structural function. But, whether the Protagonist is man, woman, child, animal, or a cloud is all storytelling. Now consider that the the Protagonist is married, or has a relationship with his boss, or has one leg, or possesses special powers – all storytelling. None of this changes that the Protagonist is the prime mover of the effort to achieve the goal.
But, consider the Reason archetype. They provide the story with the logical point of view, so that the story does not seem lacking in exploring that perspective, for certainly every reader or audience member is using logic as one of the ways he or she is examining the story. The Reason archetype is another structural character. And it doesn’t matter if it is a man, woman, child, animal or cloud; it doesn’t matter if the Reason archetype is the Protagonist’s spouse or boss or has one leg or possesses special powers – the structural relationship between Protagonist and Reason is that the Protagonist provides the drive and the Reason archetype provides the logical perspective.
Structure ends there and any subject matter, personality traits, physical attributes, history, intelligence or real world relationships are all storytelling.
By being able to separate story structure from storytelling, an author can get down to the underlying mechanics that makes their story make sense and ring true. By possessing this ability, and author can tell whether a problem with a story is caused by what is being said or how it is being said. And most important of all, dividing story structure from storytelling enables an author to ensure the framework of their story – its foundation – has no holes or inconsistencies that weaken it.
Think of structure as a platter upon which your subject matter is served, and the manner in which you serve it is your style. Think of structure as a carrier wave upon which a song is transmitted over the radio, think of the music and lyrics as the subject matter and the performance as the style.
Clarifying this understanding in your mind will help focus your work without undermining the serendipity of your Muse.
Another episode from my video series on story structure recorded in 1999…
Men and Women generally respond to Main Characters differently. But, it is not a simple gender bias. Rather, all readers/audience members will sometimes empathize with the Main Character (stand in his or her shoes) and sometimes only sympathize with the Main Character (care about them but look over their shoulder rather than through their eyes). It is the factors that make each half of the audience empathize or sympathize that is the difference.
Here are four useful techniques to add to your novelist’s bag of tricks:
Novels Aren’t Stories
A novel can be extremely free form. Some are simply narratives about a fictional experience. Others are a collection of several stories that may or may not be intertwined.
Jerzy N. Kosinski (the author of “Being There,” wrote another novel called “Steps.” It contains a series of story fragments. Sometimes you get the middle of a short story, but no middle or end. Sometimes, just the end, and sometimes just the middle.
Each fragment is wholly involving, and leaves you wanting to know the rest of the tale, but they are not to be found. In fact, there is not (that I could find) any connection among the stories, nor any reason they are in that particular order. And yet, they are so passionately told that it was one of the best reads I ever enjoyed.
The point is, don’t feel confined to tell a single story, straight through, beginning to end.
Rather than think of writing a novel, think about writing a book. Consider that a book can be exclusively poetry. Or, as Anne Rice often does, you can use poetry to introduce chapters or sections, or enhance a moment in a story.
You can take time to pontificate on your favorite subject, if you like. Unlike screenplays which must continue to move, you can stop the story and diverge into any are you like, as long as you can hold your reader’s interest.
For example, in the Stephen King novel, “The Tommy Knockers,” he meanders around a party, and allows a character to go on and on… and on… about the perils of nuclear power. Nuclear power has nothing to do with the story, and the conversation does not affect nor advance anything. King just wanted to say that, and did so in an interesting diatribe.
So feel free to break any form you have ever heard must be followed. The most free of all written media is the novel, and you can literally – do whatever you want.
Get Into Your Characters’ Heads
One of the most powerful opportunities of the novel format is the ability to describe what a character is thinking. In movies or stage plays (with exceptions) you must show what the character is thinking through action and/or dialog. But in a novel, you can just come out and say it.
For example, in a movie, you might say:
John walks slowly to the window and looks out at the park bench where he last saw Sally. His eyes fill with tears. He bows his head and slowly closes the blinds.
But in a novel you might write:
John walked slowly to the window, letting his gaze drift toward the park bench where he last saw Sally. Why did I let her go, he thought. I wanted so much to ask her to stay. Saddened, he reflected on happier times with her – days of more contentment than he ever imagined he could feel.
The previous paragraph uses two forms of expressing a character’s thoughts. One, is the direct quote of the thought, as if it were dialog spoken internally to oneself. The other is a summary and paraphrase of what was going on in the character’s head.
Most novels are greatly enhanced by stepping away from a purely objective narrative perspective, and drawing the reader into the minds of the character’s themselves.
Keep A Daily Log Of Tidbits
One of the biggest differences between a pedestrian novel and a riveting one are the clever little quips, concepts, snippets of dialog, and fresh metaphors.
But coming up with this material on the fly is a difficult chore, and sometimes next to impossible. Fortunately, you can overcome this problem simply by keeping a daily log of interesting tidbits. Each and every day, many intriguing moments cross our paths. Some are notions we come up with on our own; others we simply observe. Since a novel takes a considerable amount of time to write, you are bound to encounter a whole grab bag of tidbits by the time you finish your first draft.
Then, for the second draft, you refer to all that material and drop it in wherever you can to liven up the narrative. You may find that it makes some characters more charismatic, or gives others, who have remained largely silent, something to say. You may discover an opportunity for a sub-plot, a thematic discourse, or the opportunity to get on your soapbox.
What I do is to keep the log at the very bottom of the document for my current novel, itself. That way, since the novel is almost always open on my computer, anything that comes along get appended to the end before it fades from memory.
Also, this allows me to work some of the material into the first draft of the novel while I’m writing it. For example, here are a few tidbits at the bottom of the novel I’m developing right now:
A line of dialog:
“Are you confused yet? No? Let me continue….”
A silly comment:
“None of the victims was seriously hurt.” Yeah – they were all hurt in a very funny way.
A character name:
Farrah Swiel
A new phrase:
Tongue pooch
A notion:
Theorem ~ Absolute Corruption Empowers Absolutely
Corollary ~ There are no good people in positions of power
I haven’t worked these into the story yet, but I will. And it will be richer for it.
Don’t Hold Back
Unlike screenplays, there are no budget constraints in a book. You can write, “The entire solar system exploded, planet at a time,” as easily as you can write, “a leaf fell from the tree.”
Let you imagination run wild. You can say anything, do anything, break any law, any taboo, any rule of physics. Your audience will follow you anywhere as long as you keep their interest.
So, follow your Muse wherever it leads. No idea is too big or too small. Write about the things you are most passionate about, and it will come through your words, between the lines, and right into the hearts and souls of your readers.
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