Posts Tagged ‘story’

Are You a Narratologist or a Platformist?

Tuesday, March 23rd, 2010

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Narratologists, as the name implies, obsess over narrative.  What makes a good story (and a story good)?  What are the emotional stakes?  What’s the relationship between characters?  Between text and subtext?  Who are the players?  What roles to they play, and do these roles reveal or conceal their true natures?  What motivates them?  What needs to they seek to fulfill?   How does narrative create dialogue between players and audience?  These are the questions keeping Narratologists awake at night, and earning their keep during the day.

Platformists obsess over apps. How solid is an app?  How does it scale?  What language is it written in (and how many does it speak)?  Who uses it and why?  What is the feature set?  What is the ROI?   What is the social component?  How compatible is it?   What’s the relationship between reliability and flexibility?  What differentiates it from its competitors?  If you can answer these questions for more than five apps, you’ve got a lot of Platformist in you.

AppsShot1Narratologists and Platformists can collaborate with one another, but one cannot be both.  Not at the same time anyway.  We all have to choose.  To help with your decision-making, here are a few things to consider:

Narratives are designed to make sense of the world by distilling information into meaning.  Most platforms are, by contrast, designed to distribute information. ”Information,” Viola Spolin once said, “is a poor form of communication.” Choose.

Narrative is inherently more unique, and therefore scarcer and ultimately more valuable than any platform.  As information gets commoditized across platforms–33.5 billion tweets about brands in 2009 (Forrester),  120 million videos hosted on YouTube with an average of 200,000 more added every day (Yahoo Answers), and 400+ million profiles on Facebook (Business Week)–using narrative as a way of organizing and extracting meaning from information grows more relevant all the time.  Would you rather wrestle with one meaningful narrative, or 33.5 billion mostly meaningless tweets?   Call it while it’s in the air.

Narratologists deal in the relationships between people. Narrative wants to be human.  Wants to engage. Wants to move its audience. Yes, it can be messy and unpredictable, but that’s life.

Platforms, on the other hand, deal in the relationships between people and technology.  Platforming may be more predictable, but it’s antiseptic.  It wants to be germ-free. That’s not life. ‘Sterile’ is most likely not an association you want for your brand.

Maybe what matters most is that narratives are a lot more fun for participants.  They generate energy and emotion, manifest purpose, offer possibilities.  They elevate their audience from the drone of daily life. 

Platforms, from the days of Gutenberg’s first printing press, have always been and will always be a pain in the ass. They spawn frustration and induce headeaches.  We find ourselves chained to them.  It’s the nature of the beast. 

Would you rather entertain the possibility of having fun, or guarantee yourself a certain amount of frustration?   Are you a ‘glass-is-half-full-drink-up’ kind of person, or a ‘this-glass-will-automatically-notify-me-via-SMS-when-its-fill-factor-is-above-50%’ kind of person?  You can only drink from one glass at a time.

Narratives define what platforms cannot.  Narratives last longer than platforms.  Mean more. Engage more deeply. Evolve more quickly.  Earn more money in the long haul.

Choose.

Kiki, Lala and Fritjof

Wednesday, March 10th, 2010

Take a look at these two passages.  The first written recently by a couple of anime fan/bloggers, Kiki and Lala,  and the second written by the physicist/philosopher, Fritjof Capra, in his book The Tao of Physics, first published in 1975.  KikiLala1AThe human experience has many faces, is described from many perspectives, in many languages, but it is ultimately the same story.  There is no one in this world you can meet, no animal you eat, no plant you grow, no product you use, no adversity you encounter, no interaction of any kind you can have, of which it cannot be said, “We are in this together.”

Story Yourself

Monday, March 1st, 2010
Michael Margolis

Michael Margolis

Not long ago, thanks to a series of events set in motion by our mutual friend, Michelle James, I had the good fortune to connect with Michael Margolis, the founder of GetStoried.com and the author of Believe Me — “a storytelling manifesto for change-makers and innovators.”

There’s a natural affinity whenever professional storytellers get together.  Everything reminds us of a story, and so the conversation tends to leapfrog from anecdote to observation to insight, and back again.  Michael and I not only leapfrogged.  We hopscotched.  We see-sawed.  We tagged, hide-and-go-seeked and monkey-barred.  We were a couple of kids at recess, playing with our favorite toy.

What I like best about Michael’s approach to storytelling is that it’s active.  Story, seen through his lens, isn’t passive.  It’s not static.  Not fixed in time or immutable.

Story is alive.  It’s dynamic.  In constant motion.  In fact, telling good stories, while it has its place, is not nearly as productive as the living of them.  This is what Michael gets at in Believe Me.  It describes stories as our most powerful way of defining and shaping the world we live in.  Seeing stories in this light gives us the ability to transform them from past-tense or scripted, into a form that is revealed to us in each and every breath, and transmitted to our ‘audience’ in each and every action we take.

This is the learning that emerged for me from Believe Me.  Story is more powerful as a verb than as a noun.

Don’t think of story as a Thing.  Treat it as an Action. The act of Changing.  Innovating.  Revealing.  Inviting.  Reflecting.  Making.  Learning.  Leading.  Contextualizing. Connecting. Understanding.  Liberating. And yes…Playing!

Someday, after the fact, a Story may describe What Happened.  Right now, the only time that matters, Story is What’s Happening.  Knowing this difference will make you more observant and appreciative in the moment, and when it’s time for you to tell your story, it will rock, and your audience will Believe.

Quantum Narrative

Thursday, February 4th, 2010

We create and share stories as a way of understanding the world.   Our ‘sense of narrative’ guides us through life.  Narratives are the basis of community.  They inform our relationships.  Characterize our business decisions.  Color our music.  They affect everything from our spiritual beliefs, to the schools we attend, to the products we patronize.CaveWallDrawing2

Storytelling is in our DNA.  You can even say our DNA is, itself, a story as old as life on the planet, told in a language first translated in 1953 by scientist-storytellers Watson and Crick.  Before 1953, scientists knew the story existed, they just didn’t understand the language in which it was told.  Watson and Crick cracked the code and the story has been unfolding ever since.WatsonCrick1

Narratives are the most powerful way we have of organizing information.  They impose structure and meaning on the chaos of communication that flows like a thousand roaring rivers into, through, and out of networks.   They connect virtual experiences to the real world.  They inspire action.  Narratives make sense of it all, and of our relationship to it all.

As you may know, brand narratives designed for the networked world cannot be scripted, they must be improvised.  Much of the work we do at GameChangers involves helping our customers become better improvisers of their narratives, and not focus as much on telling good stories as they do on living good stories.  It is much easier and more cost effective to preach what you practice than it is to practice what you preach.

Here’s a huge distinction between scripted and improvised narratives:

Scripted narratives operate under the laws of Newtonian mechanics (also called classical mechanics).  Call them Newtonian Narratives.  Improvised narratives, by comparison, operate according to the laws of quantum mechanics.

Call them Quantum Narratives.

NewtonianBalls1Here are some characteristics of a Newtonian Narrative:  It is finite, with a beginning, middle and end.  It unfolds in linear time.  It follows a formula or script.  It has a credited author.  It is inhabited by a well-defined and finite number of players.  It is rooted in physical geography.  It is platform specific (even when it is multi-platform).  It is solid, mechanical, repetitive and dependable.  It is immutable.  The book you read today will be the same book tomorrow.  It is causative, that is everything in a Newtonian Narrative happens because of something else.  Events are related to one another according to its formulas.  (“If Peyton Manning endorses it, people will buy it.”)

Another important distinction:  a Newtonian Narrative can only be conjecture before the fact and can only be true (or not) after the fact.  That is, until events have actually transpired, there is no truth to these narratives.  A book cannot be read until it has been written, , a news story cannot be reported until the ‘news’ has occurred, and all our scripts, game plans and predictions are, at best, a positive vision of what we’d like the future to hold.  None of it is our reality.  Newtonian Narratives predict the future and chronicle the past, but they are not ‘alive.’  Examples of Newtonian Narratives are: market research, feature films, sitcoms, print media, TV ad campaigns, style guides and the shopping list on your refrigerator door.

One more characteristic of the Newtonian Narrative:  It places a premium on knowledge, by defining knowledge as a have/have-not concept.  It rewards ‘knowing,’ and penalizes ‘not knowing.’   In the Newtonian Narrative, knowledge is something you earn, or pay to acquire, at which point you are said to ‘own it.’

None of this is to say that the Newtonian Narrative is necessarily bad, or undesirable.  Just like Newtonian mechanics in physics, it has its place, and that place is vital, as Toyota is learning today to its dismay, with all its recalls on defective car parts.  (Something in its process didn’t follow the script its engineers had authored.)

Networks call for a different approach to storytelling.  A quantum approach.  Understanding this difference and acting on it presents a huge opportunity for businesses and brands, and perhaps our best chance for economic growth that is both profitable and sustainable.

QuantumStructure1The Quantum Narrative redefines storytelling by ripping up and recomposing the stuff stories have been made of since the first cave dweller showed her companions how to build a fire (and got thrown out of the cave not long after by another cave dweller who claimed the secret of fire for himself).

Though it literally has existed forever, production of this kind of narrative is still in its infancy.  You can see glimmers of it in transmedia, massive multiplayer games, distributed production models, theme parks, social media, alternate reality games, activist brands, smart badges, business in China, remixes and mashups, augmented reality, micro-loans and the video of your dance in the musical, Hair.

Here are some of the characteristics of a Quantum Narrative:  It has no beginning, middle or end.  It has unlimited numbers of beginnings, middles and ends.  It is generative instead of repetitive.  It is participatory instead of authored.  There’s no traditional storyteller-audience relationship; in the Quantum Narrative, everyone is responsible for creating the story.  It does not foster consumption as much as it invites customization.  This is why participants in these brand narratives are not consumers; they are customers.  Or players.

A Quantum Narrative is not bound by time, space or geography.  As with human DNA, what happened 40,000 years ago is still present and active in the narrative today.  This kind of narrative can transpire in the blink of an eye or unfold over many millennnia.  Or both.  It happens here at the same time it’s happening across the room or the planet.  It resembles the playing of a game by an infinite number of players more than it does the telling of a story by one person to an audience in a room.

A Quantum Narrative is platform agnostic.  You cannot tie this kind of story to a technology or convention, because is designed to liberate itself from such conventions and transcend the media that deliver it.

A Quantum Narrative is present tense, which means that it does not get bogged down by history or saddled with expectations.  This is probably its most important characteristic, because it means that every single action in the narrative holds breakthrough potential.  Breakthroughs are not predicted by the narrative, they are, rather, made possible by it.  It is non-causative, that is, you cannot always know how or why things occur.  Serendipity plays an important role.

Quantum Narratives do not focus on who has knowledge and who doesn’t.  Instead, they begin with the premise that everyone (and everything!) has knowledge, and the fact that we don’t all know the same things is an advantage, not a drawback.  Quantum Narratives are designed to be shared, not owned.  They emphasize interpretation, context, and perspective over a so-called body of knowledge.

Quantum Narratives create the conditions for unexpected collaborations and syntheses of ideas.  They connect what has been scattered, make whole what would otherwise remain divided, and continually evolve.

They focus more on theme than on plot.  They assess performance in terms of consistency (thematic alignment) and inconsistency, not in terms of rightness (on message) and wrongness.  There’s only one way to be right, but there are unlimited ways to be consistent with a theme.  This, too, has huge implications.   It means that Quantum Narratives, in addition to being more adaptive, possess way more potential than Newtonian Narratives do.  It’s the difference between an atomic reaction and a stick of dynamite.

Mix Mills and Grain Bins

Monday, January 25th, 2010

MixMillsGrainBins1I grew up on a farm.  My father spent a lot of time away from our farm selling and installing systems for other farmers that gave them more opportunity at what was, quite literally, the grass roots level.

One of these systems was called a Mix Mill.  It was a processing machine about the size of a small refrigerator that ground grains like corn and soybeans into livestock feed.  Using a series of black dials on the front of a cool-looking and very loud mint green machine connected to a set of augers, a farmer could dial in mixtures of grains and nutrients, and control the blend and texture of the feed.  This saved the farmer all the time and labor of loading grain into a truck, hauling it to a centralized grain mill, grinding and mixing the grain there in one big batch, then loading it  into 100 lb bags and hauling it back to the farm.

Another product, a Grain Bin, was a big silvery cylinder with drying fans installed around its perimeter that allowed the farmer to store and dry grain until the market presented the best selling opportunity.  No longer did a farmer necessarily have to sell his grain at harvest time, when the market was glutted.  The Grain Bin gave farmers more flexibility by giving them a much larger window through which to move their product.

After breakfast this morning with Scott Walker, the founder of BrainCandy LLC, whose Runes of Gallidon explores production using a networked  model, I can see more clearly than ever that we are in an analogous scenario today.  The ‘small farmers’ of our time are Independent Media Producers (IMPs) such as app developers, gamers, bloggers, filmmakers and storytellers of all stripes.

The Mix Mills and Grain Bins of new media–some of them even sporting agri-names like FinalCut, Feedburner, FeedRoom, FeedCompany, Mailbeans and Sprouter–are abundant, and give an IMP almost unlimited ways to intersect with market vectors.  (In fact, anyone thinking of launching a media app would be well advised to take a look at this first.  All 67 pages of it.  It should be mandatory.)

Like Mix Mills and Grain Bins did for farmers, these apps  give the IMP much more say in the supply chain.  A say in when the feed gets ground.  How long it gets stored.  What goes into it.

The apps also hold down the IMP’s expenses.  Costs of fuel, labor and transportation are all lowered.  What was once produced at the centralized grain mill (e.g. a large post production facility with heavy-duty Avid machines and 24-track consoles) can now be produced using laptops in someone’s home studio.

With all these ‘Mix Mills and Grain Bins’ and the unlimited spectrum of mashups and market entry points they make possible, we IMPs– we tillers of the cybersoil, farmers of the fractal, growers of the game–are left with only two questions that have no off-the-shelf answer:  What are we planting? and Why?

Princess GameChange

Wednesday, January 20th, 2010

I have a special place in my heart for animation and animators, especially for the artists who draw it by hand. There are only a few of these people in the world. Some say hand-drawn animation is doomed, swamped and marginalized by CGI and the ‘illustrated radio’ that is TV animation. I say there have always been only a few of these people in the world, which makes them all the more rare and valuable, and that there will always be hand-drawn animation, even if it won’t be drawn with lead pencils on sheets of paper.

PrincessFrog2One of the greatest gifts of my professional life has been the opportunity to hang out and work with people who draw Disney animation. They are exceptionally gifted observers, and experience the world from their own unique space-time perspective. (Once, I was walking through Descanso Gardens in L.A. with the legendary Disney artist Ken Anderson and he pointed up at the huge California Oaks overhead. “Most people see these trees as standing still,” he said. “If we could observe them over time we’d see that they’re really doing a beautiful dance.”) Disney animators inhale life’s experiences deeply like that, and breath it out through drawings that show movement in 1/24th of a second increments, every drawing a work of gallery-worthy art, fed back to us in waves through the twin lenses of character and narrative, as a movie.

“The Princess and the Frog” may not get my vote for the best movie title ever, but it is a positively heroic comeback for hand-drawn animation at Disney, which has, in true fairy tale fashion, awakened, dusted itself off and gotten back in business after being rendered dormant by the Dark Prince, Michael Eisner, and left for dead by many.  And…it features an African American girl as its main character, a first for a Disney animated feature.  We have come a long way since the days of Uncle Remus and Br’er Rabbit. We still have a long way to go.  But if we are like animators…patient, observant, and aware that there is opportunity in every 1/24 of a second…we might just get there someday.