Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 10 "When to Use Dramatica"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
For some authors, applying Dramatica at the beginning of a creative project might be inhibiting. Many writers prefer to explore their subject, moving in whatever direction their muse leads them until they eventually establish an intent. In this case, the storytelling comes before the structure. After the first draft is completed, such an author can look back at what he has created with the new understanding he has arrived at by the end. Often, much of the work will no longer fit the story as the author now sees it. By telling Dramatica what he now intends, Dramatica will be able to indicate which parts of the existing draft are appropriate, which are not, and what may be needed that is currently missing. In this way, the creative process is both free and fulfilling, with Dramatica serving as analyst and collaborator.
Annotation
Now this passage in the original theory book is just the tip of the iceberg.  In the twenty some-odd years since we wrote this, I've discovered a whole bucket of insights and practical tips that can really leverage Dramatica (both the theory and the software) to far greater power in their application.
Speaking of Dramatica software, this is one of the few passages in the theory book that references it when it says, "By telling Dramatica" and "Dramatica will be able," which clearly are not speaking of the theory by itself.
While I'm on this topic, let me hold forth a bit about the relationship between theory and software so we can clarify that issue, be done with that, and move on.  First of all, the theory is a conceptual construct that accurately describes the function of the forces that make up narrative.  In other words, the theory really sees narrative as a collection of dynamics that are interrelated, rather than seeing narrative as a structure made up of story points.
"What about the Dramatica Chart?" you might ask.  "That's made up of all kinds of structural points including some called 'elements' - you can't get any more structural than that."  Well, now, that's not exactly true.  It's how it appears, to be sure, but that not really what it is.  (Notice how I'm diverging farther and farther away from practical tips here, but I promise: I'll get to those down near the bottom of what now appears to be one freaking huge annotation....
Every item in the Dramatica Chart (AKA the Dramatica Table of Story Elements) is actually a process, treated as an object.  WTF?  Okay - imagine you make a list of chores for the day that includes washing the dishes, paying the bills, and going shopping.  Each of those is really a process, isn't it?  But on the list, they are all treated as things: chores.  By thinking of a complex process at a thing, the complexity kind of melts away so that you can begin to see how one "thing" relates to another.
The Dramatica Chart is, essentially, a map of how all the processes that make up narrative relate to one another.  By treating them as objects, we can see those relationships more easily (and some of them are so subtle that you can't see them at all until you create a chart in that manner and get rid of all the complexity).
Now for the software...  We took all these relationships among narrative processes that we found and discovered they had a pattern - think the DNA of story.  Every story has its own genome or perhaps "memnome" (playing off the word "meme" which is like a gene or cultural awareness).  But, they all use the same bases and there is an underlying deep structure to the way they are assembled.  (In DNA it is a double helix, in Dramatica it is actually a quad helix, which is why the "objects" in the Dramatica Chart are arranged in quads.)
So, we described this model of structure mathematically.  We realized that the way these elements could go together could be described by algorithms and these algorithms became a computer implementation of the model of DNA of narrative that is the story engine in Dramatica software.  Everything else in the software - the tools, features, interface and questions - are all just ways of accessing that algorithmic model.
The idea is to treat the model like a big piece of marble.  Michelangelo said, he just chipped away anything that didn't look like what he was trying to portray and what was left was the image he was going for.  That's how you use Dramatica: answer the questions so it sculpts the model to gradually look more and more like what you have in mind for your story.  Eventually, you'll enter enough information about your mental image, that the model with all its DNA-style algorithms can determine that the unseen in-between impact of all your choices on each other can pre-determine what other potential choices must be if they aren't to work against or undermine what you've already said you want to do narratively.  In plain language.  The more information you put into the model about your story, the more you limit what your other options are, without working against yourself dramatically.  Simple as that.
You can see this at work in the story engine feature in the software.  Every time you make a choice, the number of other options is reduced.  In Dramatica Story Expert there is a feature that shows all the choices you explicitly make in blue, and when enough information is input that other choices can be made by the model, these implied choices show up in red.  Interestingly, it never take more than about twelve explicit choices to know enough about your story to generate more than seventy other implied choices.  Pretty weird, huh?  But accurate as great-grandpa and his spittoon.
Now back to the title of this original section in the theory book, "When to Use Dramatica." Well, to use Dramatica you really need to know what your story is about before you start.  Oh, you can use it without a clue, but then every choice you make is rather arbitrary.  Of course, you might go into the process with no story idea at all and then answer questions like, "Is your overall story about a situation, activity, attitude or manner of thinking," and that might actually help you gravitate toward one kind of a story rather than another.  And, as you continue answering such questions as "Is your Main Character a Do-er or a Be-er" then you build up elements of the framework of a story, just like in 3D printing until you have a complete structure.  It won't have any subject matter yet - it will just be a bunch of girders and pulleys.  So, you'll then follow through the storytelling section of the software to describe what kind of subject matter in your story is going to fulfill each of those structural requirements.  For some folks, that's the best way to go.
But for me, and writers like me, I'm more like ol' Michelangelo.  I want to know what I'm trying to get at first, then use Dramatica to chip away at that block of Muse-provided marble until I can see the structure at the heart of the story I want to tell.  Doing it this way, I already have all my subject matter and a story concept in mind.  Dramatica then becomes a way of finding the dramatic center of all that material, the way you might find the geographic center of a country.  It brings clarity and gives you a pivot point around which to build and balance your story.
That, in fact, is why I created StoryWeaver after co-creating Dramatica: to provide tool for generating ideas, zeroing in on subject matter.  In short, to come up with people I'd like to write about before they became character, events before it became a plot, a message before it became a theme, and an atmosphere before it became a genre. Then (after using StoryWeaver to work out my story's world) - then I go to Dramatica to X-ray the damn thing and see what kind of structural skeleton its got.
So when to use Dramatica (software)?  If you already know what your story is and how its structured, what do you need software for?  If you need inspiration, use StoryWeaver.  If you need structural grounding and guidance, use Dramatica.
When to use Dramatica (theory)?  The theory is an understanding.  It doesn't generate creative motivation.  But, if you know it, the underlying concepts will open new doors to explore creatively and will almost subliminally guide your efforts so that the more theory you know, the more your stories will seem to be complete, make sense, not drive, and have consistency of outlook and consistency of impact.
And if you use the Dramatica software at least once every few months, you'll find that our writerly instincts are constantly drifting off true and being warped by new life experiences and old justifications.  Dramatica points to the proper lane on the freeway that will get you there - the corridor of clear thinking.  It doesn't regiment your Muse but keeps it from running off a cliff like the vast majority of lemming-like writers out there who follow formulas right behind the writer in front until they end up in a broken heap at the bottom of what might have been the best story they ever told.
--Melanie Anne Phillips

Thursday, September 25, 2014

Announcing our new Narrative Analysis Service

Storymind is pleased to announce our new narrative analysis service for real world issues and situations.  We find the narratives at the core of activities, then project the likely course of events based on a motivation map of the individuals and organizations involved.
Click the image below to take a tour of our new web site.
Storymind Foundation Web Page JPEG

Tuesday, September 23, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 9 "Author's Intent"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
Simply having a feeling or a point of view does not an author make. One becomes an author the moment one establishes an intent to communicate. Usually some intrigu- ing setting, dialog, or bit of action will spring to mind and along with it the desire to share it. Almost immediately, most authors leap ahead in their thinking to consider how the concept might best be presented to the audience. In other words, even before a com- plete story has come to mind most authors are already trying to figure out how to tell the parts they already have.
As a result, many authors come to the writing process carrying a lot of baggage: favorite scenes, characters, or action, but no real idea how they are all going to fit to- gether. A common problem is that all of these wonderful inspirations often don't belong in the same story. Each may be a complete idea unto itself, but there is no greater meaning to the sum of the parts. To be a story, each and every part must also function as an aspect of the whole.
Some writers run into problems by trying to work out the entire dramatic structure of a story in advance only to find they end up with a formulaic and uninspired work. Con- versely, other writers seek to rely on their muse and work their way through the process of expressing their ideas only to find they have created nothing more than a mess. If a way could be found to bring life to tired structures and also to knit individual ideas into a larger pattern, both kinds of authors might benefit. It is for this purpose that Dramatica was developed.
Annotation
Finally, here at part 9, do we come to a section of the book that I think says exactly what it intended to say.  And, in fact, that is what the section is all about - saying what you intend to say.
Having an experience or an insight doesn't make one an author.  SHARING an experience or an insight does - or at least attempting to share.  How successful you are at communicating the logic and passion of your intent determines how skillful an author you are.  How interestingly you convey that information determines how compelling an author you are.  Together, they determine how good an author you are.
If I were to add anything to this section at all, it would be something the Dramatica book intentionally avoided: giving advice on how to write.  We wanted to focus on explaining our model of story structure (our intent) and that is what we did (success).  But, we had no interest in making it interesting.  Which, by my definition above, means that we weren't very compelling authors and, overall, were not very good authors.
And so, let me simply suggest that it pays to not only know what you want to share with your audience, but to determine what impact you'd like to have on them, i.e. to scare them, motivate them, inform them, illuminate them or any combination of multiple intents.  In that way, even without a structural road map, you always have a beacon, a lighthouse to guide your communications and the manner in which you present your information.
~~Melanie Anne Phillips

Friday, September 19, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 8 "Communicating Through Symbols"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
How can essential concepts be communicated? Certainly not in their pure, intuitive form directly from mind to mind. (Not yet, anyway!) To communicate a concept, an author must symbolize it, either in words, actions, juxtapositions, interactions — in some form or another. As soon as the concept is symbolized, however, it becomes culturally specific and therefore inaccessible to much of the rest of the world.
Even within a specific culture, the different experiences of each member of an audi- ence will lead to a slightly different interpretation of the complex patterns represented by intricate symbols. On the other hand, it is the acceptance of common symbols of com- munication that defines a culture. For example, when we see a child fall and cry, we do not need to know what language he speaks or what culture he comes from in order to understand what has happened. If we observe the same event in a story, however, it may be that in the author's culture a child who succumbs to tears is held in low esteem. In that case, then the emotions of sadness we may feel in our culture are not at all what was intended by the author.
Annotation
As I read this over, I think our intent was good, but we were a little off the mark.  Here we state in the opening paragraph that to communicate a thought, concept, feeling or experience you need to symbolize it first.  That's not technically true.  For example, suppose you want your friend to feel terror.  Well, you could just throw him out of an airplane and I'll bet he'd pretty much experience just what you had in mind.  Nothing symbolic about that!
More accurately, we can communicate by creating an environment that causes our reader or audience to arrive just where we want them.  In other words, we set up an experience that, by the end of the book or movie, positions our reader or audience into just the mindset we want them to have.
More sophisticated, or perhaps less end-product-oriented narratives are designed to position the reader or audience all along the way as well, so that the entire journey is an experience right along the logical and emotional path of discovery the author intended for his followers.
None of this requires symbols, however.  It can all be done simply by creating a series of artificial environments presented in a given sequence.  But, symbols can streamline the process.  If you don't have to build the environment for the reader or audience but merely allude to it, then you can get your point and passion across simply by invoking an element of common understanding.  A picture may be worth 1,000 words, but a symbol is worth 1,000 experiences.
So, what we wrote above is not wrong per se, but rather is short speak that (though it communicates) is open to criticism because is skips over a number of steps to streamline communication.  And that, is exactly what symbols do - they get the content to the recipient in the quickest fashion possible yet open the message - the story argument - to rebuttal because wholesale parts of the communication are truncated, leaving gaps in the actual flow, though if the author is in tune with the audience's symbolic vocabulary, the complete extent of the original concept may, in fact, be fully appreciated.
Bottom line - know your audience and you will be able to put far more logical and passionate density into the pipeline than if you had to spell everything out.
--Melanie Anne Phillips

Monday, September 15, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 7 "Symbolizing Concepts"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
It has been argued that perhaps the symbols we use are what create concepts, and therefore no common understanding between cultures, races, or times is possible. Dramatica works because indeed there ARE common concepts: morality, for example. Morality, a common concept? Yes. Not everyone shares the same definition of morality, but every culture and individual understands some concept that means "morality" to them. In other words, the concept of "morality" may have many different meanings — depending on culture or experience — but they all qualify as different meanings of "morality." Thus there can be universally shared essential concepts even though they drift apart through various interpretations. It is through this framework of essential concepts that communication is possible.
Annotation
We wrote this section of the book right up front because we were getting a lot of "blow-back" from "artists" who felt that "story" was a magical, mystical thing that could  never be defined.  They believed that any attempt to do so was inherently flawed and, therefore, the whole Dramatica concept was wrong right out of the box.
And in regard to that box, you've hear people often say, "You need to think outside the box."  What Dramatica is saying here is, "Inside or outside: either way you're still thinking ABOUT the box."  Which means, that the box is, in the above example, "morality."  Every human mind has a little box called "morality."  We can't help it - its the way we're built.  But what we put in that box  is guided by culture and unique to each individual.
Thinking outside the box really just means looking into somebody else's box and seeing what they have in there.  If you consider it, see how that might be seen as, in our example, morality - they you are open-minded.  If you hold that only what you have put into your box is appropriate to be labelled "morality," they you are close-minded.
Life (if we look outward) and, more accurately, we ourselves (if we look inward) are made of boxes.  Each with a different label and each filled with a whole assortment of things we've piled in there over the years through experience and a bunch of stuff that has been piled in out box by others, through personal influence or collectively through cultural indoctrination.
As long as we look at the contents, story structure (and narrative psychology) will make no sense because were are trying to compare what one person believes should go in that box in their life to what everyone else is putting in a box with the same label in their lives.
But if you just look to see if everyone has a box labelled "morality" or any of the other story points that are the conventions of story structure, you'll see we all have the same boxes with the same labels, but what we put in them is different.
From that perspective, you begin to see that there is also a pattern to the way people stack up those mental boxes for storage.  The box labelled "Hope" is often stacked right next to the one labelled "Dreams."
The boxes are what we documented as the structure of Dramatica, and how they are organized is described by the dynamics of the Dramatica model.  When people start to stack things in a way that seems out of kilter, such as putting Morality next to Dreams instead of Hope, then you know that something in their lives has caused them to arrange their collections of experiences and responses into an unusual pattern because it helped them deal with unique but ongoing situations they've encountered.
Moving boxes around like that, out of category and out of sub-category is like mixing up the periodic table of elements in physics to create molecular substances or like pulling items out of the well-organizerd pantry to add them to a recipe boiling on the stove.
Life requires that we do such things to move efficiently through the trials and tribulations we face and to maximize the results we're after.  But when we get in the habit of re-organizing things in a particular manner and it sets in place so we never get back to the original, un-biased order...  well, that's what we call (in Dramatica) "Justification," and it is the process of being bent by experience to the point you think that crooked path is straight.
It IS kinda straight in a warped world.  But if the world warps some other way or you move to a new environment that isn't warped or is warped differently, then that pattern you don't even think about anymore is suddenly out of kilter.  That's the moment the problem at the heart of a story is born.
The question then is, do you keep your labelled boxes in the same organization that has now worked so well for so many years, or do you rearrange them to adapt to the new situation.  And this is the argument that ensues between the Main Character and the Influence Character, resulting in a climax in which the Main Character will either change or remain steadfast.  Which way leads to success, is unsure.  Maybe sticking with your tried and true will change the immediate world around you.  Maybe you have to change because the world ain't budging.  Either way, the choice is unavoidable.
This is what stories are all about.  So, if we put "morality" aside in terms of specific content and find the common ground that we all have a box with that label on it, just with different contents - if we stop thinking our way of stacking boxes is right for everyone else, even though our life experiences have been so different - if we just realize we all have the same bag of marbles but group them in different ways, then perhaps, just perhaps, we might have a little more tolerance for other people and other peoples and realize that we're all the same, even though we're nothing alike.

Saturday, September 13, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 6 "The Scope of Dramatica"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
With all these forms of communication, isn't Dramatica severely limited in addressing only the Grand Argument Story? No. The Grand Argument model described by Dra- matica functions to present all the ways a mind can look at an issue. As a result, all other forms of communication will be using the same pieces, just in different combina- tions, sequences, or portions. In our example, we indicated that the less we said, the more the audience could use its imagination. A Grand Argument Story says it all. Every point is made, even if hidden obscurely in the heart of an entertainment. Other forms of communication use "slices" of the model, chunks, or levels. Even if an author is un- aware of this, the fact that human minds share common essential concepts means that the author will be using concepts and patterns found in the Dramatica model.
Annotation
This section is pretty straight-forward.  All it says is that the Dramatica model of structure describes the full size a structure can be.  Therefore, all other structural models are not in conflict with it, but contained within it.
Well, now, isn't that arrogant?  Arrogant, yes, but also true.  You see, in the process of discovering Dramatica's structural model, we came to realize that there is a maximum amount of information the human mind can hold and consider at one time without relegating some of it to memory to call up as needed.  We coined the phrase, "Size of Mind Constant" to describe this phenomenon.
Dramatica describes the totality of this "biggest thought" that anyone can have so, therefore (if you buy into that) all other structural models must, by definition, fall into it.  Implied: if they don't, they're wrong.  And we, as usual, are being arrogant again.  But also right.
Here's why there's a Size of Mind Constant.  There are four external dimensions: Mass, Energy, Space and Time.  Einstein messed around with those in his famous E=MC2.  What we discovered in story structure is that those four dimensions are reflected in the mind as Knowledge, Thought, Ability and Desire.  And we came up with our own logic equation to describe the relativistic relationship among them: T/K=AD.
Conversationally, Knowledge is the Mass of the Mind - it describes the discrete particles of what you know.  Thought is like Energy, it moves those pieces of Knowledge around to build things (like complex understandings).  Ability is like Space because it describes all the unknown in which your particle of Knowledge reside.  In other words, Ability is the comparison of how much you know in a given area to how much you don't know.  And Desire is like Time because it is a comparison of how things are compared to how they were and how they might be.
Okay, enough with the science - for now...
So in non-math speak, you've got four external dimensions and four internal dimensions to work with.  Each is a different kind of evaluation of your world and yourself.  But, your mind has to go someplace, so you need to "stand" on one of the eight and use it as your baseline from which to measure the other seven.  Then, you jump from the one you are on and measure the new set of seven (this time including the one you were on originally) and see what that looks like.  When you have finally "stood" on all eight and seen all you can see, all of those perspectives are what make up the Dramatica model.
Recall, now, that we didn't invent this model (way too complex for us! See, being non-arrogant here...).  Rather, we simply discovered the kind of out-of-focus existence of it in the conventions of narrative structure and simply sharpened the image.
Now, we stand on one at a time and look at seven.  If we want to move beyond that, we are beyond the capacity of our minds to see that much without treading over the same ground.  So, shift to look at new stuff, and when we do, it appears to be another topic or another category or another kind of thing.  Everything in our perception is really interconnected, but when we examine all we can from one perspective (jumping through all eight points to look at it) we see anything outside that as a separate topic.
So, here we come to the size of mind constant.  We are all quite capable, regardless of mental prowess, to jump around all eight of those dimensions and all of those resulting perspectives on a topic make up a Grand Argument Story - a complete description of all the different ways we might look at an issue.  That's the Size of Mind Constant.
Now here are some fun reflections of that.  Average "short-term" memory is 7 items, which is why phone number ended up seven numbers long and perhaps why we divide things into seven day weeks.  Who knows?
Also, Size of Mind Constant is like thinking of your ability to hold a big thought as being the capacity of a box-car on a railroad track.  The ties on the track show the subject matter you are covering.  You stand in the box car and cover one tie.  The rest of the box car covers seven more ties.  You can move the car up and down the track to cover more subject matter, but you can never cover more than eight ties at the same time (including yourself).
Another way of looking at it is that the Dramatica model describes the biggest notions you can have (the "classes" in the model) while still being able to see the smallest details (the "elements").  If you look at something bigger (like rising up over a landscape in a balloon) you start to loose the ability to see the details.  If you drop down to see the details, you loose sight of the Big Picture.
And so, the Size of Mind Constant describes the bandwidth you can perceive at the same time from the biggest broad strokes to the tiniest concepts.
And THAT is why all other structural models are not in conflict with Dramatica (unless they are flat-out wrong) but rather, fall within that scope because, quite simply, there's nowhere else to go.
- Melanie Anne Phillips

Thursday, September 11, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 5 "The Free Form Author"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
While some authors write specifically to make an argument to an audience, many others write because they want to follow their personal muse. Sometimes writing is a catharsis, or an exploration of self. Sometimes authoring is a sharing of experiences, fragmented images, or just of a point of view. Sometimes authoring is marking a path for an audience to follow, or perhaps just presenting emotional resources the audience can construct into its own vision. Interactive communications question the validity of a linear story itself, and justifiably so. There are many ways to communicate, and each has just as much value as the next depending upon how one wishes to affect one's audience.
Annotations
This is pretty straight forward.  The reason we put it in was that we had just (in the last section) belabored the notion that Dramatica Theory deals with Grand Argument Stories, which are the most complex and structurally demanding kind of stories.  And, we had gone way too far out of our way to be sure our readers understood that we weren't bad-mouthing or seeking to diminish any other kinds of stories or storytelling.  (We were terribly afraid that by defining very specifically the nature of narrative itself, we'd be seen as saying that any other kinds of writing were somehow less, rather than what we meant, which was that other kinds of writing simply don't use or need the full compliment of weapons in the narrative arsenal.  This doesn't make them wrong or incomplete - it just means they don't require all that to make their points and, in fact, trying to shove all that in would simply clutter the effort with too much narrative infrastructure.
But even after all those disclaimers, we still thought we might offend the most organic and intuitive writers who didn't want to be shackled by structure at all - folks like Virginia Woolf who invented and popularized the "stream of consciousness"  style of writing, in which as long as one thought follows the next in a manner the reader can follow, that is all the structure you need.  And so, ever fearful of rejection before folks could read on and discover the wonder of Dramatica, we wrote the above section, specifically for those people.  We're okay; you're okay.

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Dramatica Theory (Annotated) Part 4 "What is a Grand Argument Story?"

Excerpted from the book, Dramatica: A New Theory of Story
A Grand Argument Story is a conceptually complete story with both an emotional and logical comprehensiveness. There are a number of qualities which determine whether a story is a Grand Argument or not. These are seen in the story's Structure, Dynamics, Character, Theme, Plot, and Genre.
Annotation
The above is a pretty confusing paragraph, even though its accurate.  More precisely, it is confusing BECAUSE it is accurate, which is true of a lot of the concepts in Dramatica.  Dramatica is a whole new way of looking at what stories are and how they work.  As such, many ideas are completely foreign to familiar narrative thinking, while other notions had to be redefined from the common understanding.
In this first paragraph, what it is really saying is simply that a Grand Argument Story (one of the concepts we created) fully supports its message or moral in every logical or emotional way any reader or audience member might need to buy into it.
What sets this apart from other kinds of stories?  Conversationally, to be a story, a written work needs be no more than a description of a series of events.  But a Grand Argument Story needs to, literally, make an argument that a particular way of responding to those events is the best of all possible alternatives.  And for this argument to be successful, it has to make complete sense and feel right as well.
Simple, really, but again, we wanted accuracy in our description of the Dramatica Theory so it would be treated with some academic validity.  And so, we wrote it like a text book, rather than an armchair book.  As a result, the text often reads like that first paragraph - so precise it's hard to make sense of!
Now the last part of that first paragraph states that the (so far) unspecified qualities that define a Grand Argument Story can be found in structure, dynamics, characters, theme, plot and genre.  What the heck does THAT mean?
Again, that statement is true, buy really obtuse.  All it means is that the things we call characters, theme, plot and genre are collections of dramatic elements which make up that argument about the story's message.  But, it also bandies about the terms Structure and Dynamics as if they are the most familiar ways of talking about stories and as if you (our reader) is expected to already know exactly what we mean by them.
Fact is, when Dramatica Theory speaks of Story Structure, it doesn't at all mean what most everyone else means by that term.  It is more like speaking of physics than of story.  Simply put, Dramatica sees stories as being made up of two different kinds of narrative components: structure and dynamics.
Structure covers all the story points like Goal, Consequences, Thematic Topic, and Main Character Drive, for example.  Dynamics, on the other hand, covers all the dramatic forces that move those story points around such as Main Character Approach as a Do-er or a Be-er.
What does THAT mean?  It means that some folks like to solve problems by taking action and other like to solve them by taking a position.  Do-ers might be like a guy who gets mad and goes out jogging to work it out of his system.  Be-ers might be like a parent who sees their child climbing a dangerous fence who stifles the desire to run out and pull him to safety because that parent knows the child needs not to be overprotected to grow up well.
So you see, there are elements of structure and forces of dynamics that, in combination, make up the argument of a Grand Argument Story.  Back to the original text:
Structure: the underlying relationship between the parts of a story describe its structure. A Grand Argument Story has a very specific structure which will be explored thoroughly in the first half of this book entitled The Elements of Structure.
Dynamics: the moving, growing, or changing parts of a story describe its dynamics. A Grand Argument Story has eight essential dynamics which are explored in the second half of this book entitled The Art of Storytelling.
Again, this is pretty obscure.  My advice: just ignore it for now.  The real purpose of our putting this in here was to try and explain why the book is divided into two parts - The Elements of Structure and the Art of Storytelling.  Problem is, Dynamics really don't have anything to do with storytelling.  They are about the forces inside the narrative that drive it.  Storytelling is all about expression and style.  The second half of the book give a minimal nod to expression and style, but from a really analytic standpoint.  For me, looking back, it would have been better to divide the book into The Elements of Structure and The Forces of Dynamics.  Oh, well...
Character: Grand Argument Stories deal with two types of Characters: Overall Story Characters and Subjective Characters. These Characters provide the audience with the experience of moving through the story in both a passionate and an intellectual sense.
Yep.  Once again it makes perfect sense but couldn't possibly have been written in a way to make it less understandable or useful.  In a nutshell, all it says is that Grand Argument Stories make a distinction between characters you don't identify with that have a functional or logistic role in the story and the other kind of character through whose eyes you experience the story first hand, almost as if it were happening to you.  We cover that concept in much greater detail and depth later in the book, so for my money, this whole Grand Argument section probably should have been edited out.
Theme: Theme, in a Grand Argument Story, is tied to every structural and dynamic element. Theme provides the various biases and perspectives necessary to convey the story's subject matter or meaning.
Here we go again.  Theme is such a commonly spoken of concept, yet try to find any agreement in what it really means.  Dramatica actually cracks that nut - Theme is all about the in-betweens: about how every dramatic element relates to every other.  It is about weighing one arrangement against another to make an argument about value standards - is this collection of traits better than that one in this particular situation?
You see, whether we are ordering cable TV, Chinese food, or deciding on a mate, we're not going to get all we want and none of what we don't want.  We have to decide on the best package of the most of what we want most with the least of what we want least.
That's what theme is all about, Charlie Brown.  If value standards were single items compared to other single items it would be easy to choose the right thing to do.  But life isn't that simple.  We are always faced with trade-offs, ramifications and compromises.  Choosing the best collection is what having a personal or moral code is all about.  And that's why an author has to make a thematic argument to tout his or her favored collection of behaviors and responses against alternatives if the message is to have any impact.
And so, every dramatic element is connected to every other in the big Dim Sum of narrative.  THAT is what we were trying to say here in very accurate, concise and sterile language.
Plot: Plot in a Grand Argument Story is the sequence in which a story's thematic structure is explored. Plot details the order in which dramatic elements must occur within that story.
This one's pretty good, actually.  I might add that we were hinting that there's a difference between the order in which events occur to the characters in the story and the order in which they are revealed to the reader or audience.  We call the internal timeline within the narrative "plot" and the way that order is shuffled up in, say, a mystery, "storyweaving."  Much more on that later in the book.  In fact, there's a whole major section on it.
Genre: Genre in a Grand Argument Story classifies the audience's experience of a story in the broadest sense. Genre takes into account the elements of structure, dynamics, character, plot, and theme to define significant differences between various complete Grand Argument Stories.
True, so true...  yet apparently meaningless - bunch of high-falutin' double-talk.  Actually, no.  Genre is a weird bird; it is the confluence of structure and storytelling.  Some genres, like Westerns, are all about setting, time period, and set pieces like barroom brawls, gunfights and horse chases.  Others, like Comedies are about the way they make the reader or audience respond.  And still others, like Buddy Stories, are all about relationships among characters.
What a confusing mess!  In fact, each genre is really a grab bag of structural and storytelling items, all jumbled up into a blender that "feels" a certain way to the reader or audience.  Fortunately, Dramatica has devised a way (actually Dramatica didn't devise anything - technically, we did) to separate the structural aspects of any genre from its storytelling aspects in order to create unique genre "personalities" for each and every story.  Pretty cool, really, and you'll learn all about it down the line.  But, the way it says it above - sheesh!
These parts of a Grand Argument Story combine in complex relationships to create its Storyform. A Storyform is like a blueprint which describes how these parts shall relate in a particular story , regardless of how they are symbolized for the audience. It is such a Storyform which allows such different stories as West Side Story and Romeo and Juliet, or Cyrano de Bergerac and Roxanne to share the same meaning while bearing little resemblance to each other. What these two pairs of stories share is virtually the same Storyform.
Well, we finally arrive at the summation.  In brief, this defines what you get when you create a Grand Argument Story that includes all of those parts and pieces we've just described: you get a Storyform.  Whazzat?  A Storyform is like a schematic of a narrative.  It shows every component, what it does, and describes how they all work together to create the flow that is its function: to convince readers or audience of the author's point-of-view through a first-hand experiential journey through the material.