7

Creating Narrative Structures

There has been disagreement about the role of structure when writing stories for visual mediums. Writers of film, television, games, and even comic books have often bristled at the idea of needing dramatic structure in their medium. This problem is somewhat unique to the art form of writing. Few musicians bristle at the idea of using notes, measures, keys, and chords. Few painters refuse to use shades of blue because other painters have done so in the past. Few architects try to avoid including windows, doors, floors, and ceilings in a home only because every other livable home has included these same elements. Yes, many writers spend a great deal of time trying to avoid any familiar trope that an audience might recognize. There is certainly something to be said for creativity. However, many creators fail to recognize that basic narrative structure is actually based on the way human brains solve problems. Structure provides a natural chemical reward to the brain when a viewer sees patterns in the narrative they are watching. These patterns allow the viewer to create meaning from the experience. This was stated at the beginning of this book but bears repeating in this discussion:

  • Structure is about form, not formula.

As a matter of review, basic three-act structure was first articulated by Aristotle in his Poetics. Essentially, Aristotle states that stories should have a beginning, middle, and end. He is more elusive about exactly what should be included in each of these three sections. Many instructors have outlined possibilities for what works best when detailing beats and moments throughout each act. For those interested in greater detail, the work of Syd Field and Chris Vogler is essential. Rather than outline the precise beats that could structure a narrative within each act, we will instead examine a broader perspective. Refer to Chapter 5 for a more detailed look at each act in three-act structure. Before examining structure further, it should be stated that three-act structure is not the only possible way of approaching narrative. Other structures certainly exist. There are also narratives that completely ignore three-act structure and take a more abstract approach that have been successful. However, these stories have been executed by artistic masters, the ranks of which are much slimmer than we would care to admit. In a sense, three-act structure takes advantage of the constructs that already exist in the mind of the audience. Efficiency can be an essential tool in efforts to engage viewers with modern attention spans.

Metaphor, Symbolism, and Irony

While structure is the skeleton that must be present to create a living, breathing narrative, it is the flesh, hair, and features that truly make a creation unique. Clever uses of metaphor, symbolism, and irony can compose those features. Finding ways to incorporate these elements seamlessly into your narrative will create a greater sense of audience engagement and enjoyment.

Metaphor

As fundamental review, metaphor means for us to compare two ideas by presenting one idea directly as the other idea. Imagine a scene in a narrative where two partners decide to end their marriage. We could have these two characters discuss the reasons why the relationship must end. This is using dialogue to explain the plot to the viewer. We should remember, however, that we are working within a visual medium. A more powerful scene would simply have one partner taking a key off their key ring and sliding it across the table to the other. This scene would then be incorporating visual metaphor in order to demonstrate the end of the relationship. This image is more powerful than any piece of dialogue could be.

Symbolism

In the visual scenario, the key becomes a symbol for the relationship. Rather than only having it present in one scene, we would do well to find other ways to incorporate this symbol into various scenes throughout the narrative. It is notable that the key itself doesn’t directly have innate qualities that link it to a relationship. This keeps the symbol from being pandering to the audience. The risk in symbolism is walking the line between allowing the audience to comprehend the symbol and making it so obvious they feel it is insulting.

Irony

While potentially having a variety of meanings in a narrative, for our purposes, irony refers to the ending of a story and the relationship between the external narrative (wants/desires) and the internal narrative (needs). As briefly mentioned in Chapter 6, there are four types of endings in narratives structured around a hero and his or her journey:

  1. Positive—the protagonist gets both what they want and what they need.
  2. Positive irony—the protagonist gets what they need but not what they want.
  3. Negative irony—the protagonist gets what they want but not what they need.
  4. Negative—the protagonist gets neither what they want nor what they need.

Creating an Inciting Incident or Catalyst in VR

Every story needs a moment that accelerates the narrative action. Something should happen early in the experience that gives the protagonist a reason he or she must go on their journey. It might be a phone call informing them of a death in the family, the reappearance of an old lover, or the purchase of a house that some claim to be haunted. All these scenarios provide us the opportunity to establish each character’s goals, motivations, and plans for success. With VR, this incident might actually be the viewer finding themselves in immersed virtual space, especially in a first-person experience. This may provide all the momentum we need for the viewer to begin their journey. However, many times, this incident will be more dramatically significant. It will quickly move the characters into pursuit of their goals. Even in first-person experiences, the viewer can be further engaged in the narrative after finding themselves in the virtual space, with an event that acts as a “starting clock” for them to accomplish their task. While the first few moments of any narrative often give the participants orientation, it is this inciting incident that accelerates the conflict for all involved—protagonist, antagonist, and supporting characters.

Types of Inciting Incidents

Propelling the protagonist into the narrative action can be achieved through a variety of approaches. While no inclusive list exists, following are a few approaches that may be helpful when creating inciting incidents for immersive experiences.

The Magical Opportunity

An unexpected magical opportunity or gifting is most effective when the narrative has already established that a protagonist’s life is either monotonous or difficult. However, in gaming and interactive experiences, the magical opportunity is inherent upon entering the virtual space. In more developed narratives, a strict theme emerges from stories that offer their protagonist such opportunities—you cannot use magic to solve your problems. Near the end of the narrative, the protagonist is usually required to reject or dispose of the magic. This will often be the lesson the protagonist must learn over the course of the story. Again, gaming and interactive experiences with less complicated levels of narrative may be the exception.

The Test

A major challenge is forced on the protagonist in order to have the life he or she wants in narratives in which the inciting incident introduces a test. The test often comes just after some major component of the protagonist’s identity has been taken away or threatened. The test may be multilayered and involve levels of riddles, endurance, and conflict. If a test is presented as the inciting incident of the story, there should be either an implicit or explicit moment in the narrative, in which the protagonist accepts the challenge. Audiences tend to root for active protagonists who make choices as opposed to victims who simply are thrown from scenario to scenario.

An Enemy Arises

When the life of the protagonist is thrown into chaos by the arrival of an unexpected force, he or she must choose to confront the emerging enemy or lose what is important to them. As discussed earlier in the section on the antagonist, this force may or may not be concentrated in a central character. It is worth noting, however, that audiences often more quickly relate to the struggle of the protagonist when their opposition has a face. Usually defeating the enemy that has arisen, the protagonist must sacrifice something important to them or overcome a flaw within their own life.

The Missing Piece

Inciting incidents in which a missing piece of the protagonist’s life is introduced usually present this piece in the form of another person. It becomes clear to the protagonist that if they could only win this person over, life would be better. Unfortunately, the “missing piece” is reluctant to fill that hole initially and must be persuaded or won over. Again, this inciting incident is often connected to a theme. In these narratives, the protagonist must usually come to recognize that “missing pieces” are not possessions to be had but instead actual people that must be engaged with and sacrificed for. The protagonist only becomes complete when they realize that this person is not the missing piece, but that thing inside them that they had refused to face completes their psyche and makes the healthy relationship with someone else possible. Of course, this lesson may involve losing the “missing piece” altogether. While many VR narratives have been focused on very external experiences, the future of immersive experiences will no doubt involve more nuanced internal journeys in which viewers are thrust into worlds where they will confront their most basic desires and struggles.

SPOTLIGHT ON VISUALIZATION: Cinematic Storytelling in VR

Chris Edwards is the founder and CEO of The Third Floor, the world’s leading previsualization studio, which services up to 40 major studio feature films each year. Recent credits include Marvel franchises like Avengers and X-Men, the new Godzilla, Gravity, and many more. He began his career in digital cinematography at Disney before working for George Lucas at Skywalker Ranch.

John Bucher: You’re someone who’s had quite an accomplished history in storytelling, before we even get to VR. Can we talk about that first moment when you experienced VR? What were your thoughts?
Chris Edwards: Well, for me, VR reminded me instantly of two other big experiences I had in my life, long before VR even existed. That is the theater and theatrical events and, secondly, going to the theme park. I feel like the theater is a lot like VR because, of course, you as the director of the theatrical experience have the ability to place all of these people and objects and set pieces, and rearrange them, and do these transitions, and yet, you know that even sometimes, the actors can break the fourth wall, they can go down the aisle, they can go past the proscenium. If you go to a Cirque du Soleil show, there are people dangling from bungee cords sometimes. If you go to Pink Floyd’s The Wall, you see tons of things that involve the audience, involving multiple forms of media and physical objects all around you.
When I first saw VR, I wasn’t too impressed with what was actually happening, because I knew that it had been done before, in reality. Along the lines of the theme park, it was very similar. The whole point of it is to go beyond the movie or the franchise or the character and actually step into that character’s world. Even in the original Disneyland, you could go in and be part of Sleeping Beauty’s story, or one of the Disney classics, yet it’s all a bunch of mechanical gags and different pieces of artwork that pop up at the right time. That’s still very effective.
Fast-forward to all these panels that are talking about the film language of VR. Scientists are getting up on those panels and saying, “Well, this is so new, we will not know the full language of this for many generations, and it’s a long process, and we really don’t have many conclusions yet.” I say, “Well, no, we actually do have a lot of conclusions. There are certain things about VR that are custom to this new medium, for sure. Still, the large majority of it is based on traditional directing in film, before film even existed. Film was just the medium that had to put it in a rectangle. Now we’re going beyond the rectangle.
One of my soapboxes is that a lot of people still think that VR is a binary decision, it’s an on or off switch. You have to use full 360, or nothing. You’re back to the traditional medium. I think you can play with how much of the environment you show. Sometimes, 180 degrees works just fine. You can put floating windows out there, of different media. The impact of that switch from the choices of individual little shots collaged to one big image is undeniable.
I think that the language of VR is actually quite sophisticated and will increasingly create new subgenres of media within VR. There’s a lot of people impressed by certain introductory forms of VR, where you are in a place, and it’s a slice of life of that place, and that works well for news, it works well for documentaries, but from the moment that someone steps into that type of VR experience, it starts feeling quite realistic to them and they want to move forward. But they can’t. They can’t even lean from side to side. There’s no parallax. It’s still just a prescribed image that’s the same for everyone. You get to see a different swath of it than what someone else would have chosen to see.
I think that that form of VR, the 360 video VR, is going to look very simple, and perhaps not of interest to many consumers, unless it reaches a certain level of artistry, crafted by the best Hollywood filmmakers that use it in such an innovative way, where you’re actually entertained, looking around the 360 or different aspects of that for a sustained amount of time. I think the vast majority of the audience out there is going to, in short order, get addicted to, or become enamored with an ability to at least have more sense of presence in VR, and by that, they need to at least have some area that they can at least lean, if not move, into the space, and probably do some limited form of interaction.
John Bucher: Let’s build on that for a moment, because I think it’s important. I was talking to Jessica Brillhart over at Google, and we were speaking about the nature of experience and the need for experiences in our current culture. Can you connect what you’re talking about to that, philosophically? Why is sometimes the 180 or the 270 experience enough?
Chris Edwards: I think fundamentally, what’s cool about VR is that you can experience something that someone else experienced, and you can add those experiences to your own collection, that enriches your life. I think it’s the same way that people tend to download iTunes music that they identify with, that has been authored by other people but remains a unique sound that you admire, and that gives you a certain emotional feeling. Whether or not you actually listen to the whole album, it feels good, it’s a human response to want to collect it, and to say that you own it, so that it’s just there, just in case you need it.
I think that’s what’s going to happen with VR. I think people are going to choose the types of experiences that they identify with. They’re also going to follow creators that have a certain style or certain thing that they like about how they use the medium of VR. It’s going to be from the gambit of people just collecting VR versions of sports events that happened in real time, that are recorded for posterity, all the way through super-interactive, build-your-own, choose-your-own-adventure worlds, like a Minecraft-like application for VR. There’s really no right answer. It’s whatever you want.
There’s something very visceral about it. Right now, it’s scratching the surface of what it’s going to be, but for me, it’s exciting that for the first time in history, I don’t think there has been such a rapid shift of focus by so many industries and so many large tech companies that all have shifted some division or created something new to be able to contribute to the VR critical mass. In fact, one of the reasons why we got into the content creation business, or VR in general, is that we saw that there was a gap. There was a large amount of hardware that’s being created. The problem is, there’s not nearly enough software or experiential entertainment to actually put on that. That’s why you see many companies crop up, and they’ve created a camera. Well, they get instant funding from somebody, and then they can create their library of stuff. We did the same thing, as partners with VRC, the Virtual Reality Company, knowing that The Third Floor is a company that can create all this content. In fact, we’re the largest visualization company in the world, for real-time visualization, for storytellers working on many big Hollywood movies—so why not?
We also work in video game cinematics, and we design theme park attractions for Universal and beyond. I felt an obligation, a calling that we needed to do something to help Hollywood understand the full capabilities, the full potential of this. Certainly, the folks in the gaming world, many of the game developers and publishers totally got it from the get-go. There are harder specs to keep the frame rate up on. A bigger challenge, but they’re willing to step up, and they’re actually tooled up to do that for games, but my assumption is that with gaming on one end of the spectrum and passive film media on the other end of the spectrum, the real holy grail will be to do a little bit of both. In the middle, VR and soon to be AR, should be the nexus of great storytelling, directed by excellent storytellers, and involving some form of appropriate interactivity and therefore, presence.
That is the key to the vast majority of the revenue, I think, for this, because this is beyond the scope of what the gaming industry itself is currently profiting from. I think that a lot of times, people really underestimate this because they’re looking too short term, they’re looking too much at the projections from some analytics company, which is all very important, but look at what’s happening in terms of the internet, the future internet’s capability. Look at what’s happening in terms of devices and how the devices are becoming smaller and even going away, and leading towards this AR future. Because as soon as we have Magic Leap, as soon as we have a widespread adoption of Hollow Lens-like devices, or other dark horses that haven’t been announced yet, all browsing of the internet will feel a lot more Minority Report. You can see the signs everywhere that everyone wants this. If everything outside of entertainment is doing this type of sophisticated navigation in an increasingly 3D world of interactivity, to take a break from all of that, humanity is going to want to turn on something that’s art-directed, turn on something that takes them to another place, or informs them in an entertaining way. Our medium is going to have to match that.
John Bucher: What do you feel like were the story elements that you took from what you have done, historically, with The Third Floor and LucasFilm? What were the story elements that you feel have been the most beneficial to bring into the VR world? What sort of story principles or story elements didn’t play in this new environment?
Chris Edwards: It’s been interesting, because there’s been a mash-up of philosophies here within The Third Floor about how to tackle this type of new media. If you ask the game engine guys, they say, “Well, we need to know what kind of world we’re building, first, and then we need to work on the core technology that makes that possible, so that we have the means to tell the story. Then, out of that, we add the art to that, and technology, well-established, plus art to make it prettier equals product.” It’s completely opposite to the way that you think about the film development world, where you don’t really want to limit your imagination up front. I wouldn’t want to look at Alfonso Cuarón or James Cameron or Steven Spielberg and say, “Well, we only have so much money, so you better just keep it reined in, guys.”
That’s the whole purpose of Third Floor is to say, “Look, don’t worry about it. I know this is a big scary script with lots of big things in it, but let’s take it and let’s visualize it as if it is the best version of the movie you could ever imagine.” Then, over time, as we begin to home in on the core emotional underpinnings of the story, and the beats that take us from a moment to moment, in an innovative, almost hypnotic way, it will be very clear, at some point, what needs to go and what needs to stay in, and what needs to go beyond that, or be enhanced.
Then, once you have built your perfect baby, and usually you do that sequence by sequence, you check it versus the “Is this doable?” test, the litmus test, and that’s a combination of time, money, schedules, and a bunch of other people’s opinions. We make adjustments to make sure that’s all going to work. Sometimes, those adjustments that we make are actually even more elegant and effective than the original pie-in-the-sky version of it, if that makes any sense.
I guess what I’m saying is that what we’re trying to do right now is to have a phase where we can brainstorm as if there are no limitations for a VR project like we do in linear media, but then we will then put pencils down with that and hand it over to the tech team. If you don’t give the tech team a chance to validate it and to maybe even get a running head start, building that functionality that you seem to be calling out in your crazy idea, it’s going to be a train wreck at the end.
We do that. We take a pause. We do some core tech, and then we end up going back into it together, but in lock step, knowing the mold that we have to fit it into, then we take all those great creative ideas and start adorning the tree with all of that magic. The last lesson in VR is that you cannot publish it like you normally do with linear media, which is color-balanced, with good audio, and the right compression—sent over the internet to the person that needs to receive it. Then it goes to consumers. As you know, and as the gaming world knows, if there’s any form of interactivity, it’s got to be supported like a game, so that means it needs to be tested. There are a number of systems that the piece must be qualified for and meet the minimum spec for the hardware capabilities.
You have, of course, not only the PC market, but if you’re publishing on PlayStation, you’ve got to make sure it works on that. Every single platform has its own parameters that you must meet and procedures for publishing that are all different. Not only is it a bureaucratic challenge to meet or exceed those expectations, but it’s a support challenge long into the future, because if someone in Boise, Idaho, tries it on their 486 at home, and it’s not working, well, you want to try your best to consider a change to the core technology, the core build of that software, to make sure that it actually will play better on their underpowered system.
That’s something that’s really awakened us to the realities of game design. It’s exciting to see the mad scientists come together with the mad creators, and the artists, and that side of the fence, and a mash-up of their ideas. I think even after several projects, we are coming out of the woods with a much more sophisticated understanding of how to do this. I guess our advantage as The Third Floor is that we’ve always prided ourselves on being nimble, whereas most of Hollywood went towards final visual effects, and was working on pushing the quality of that last pixel, and making it as realistic as possible, we decided, “No. We’re going to temper our expectations for quality, and make sure that the quality we provide is not just superficial quality, it’s the quality of the storytelling. It’s the quality of the pipeline that allows us to be fast and responsive to the creator’s vision, and the entire creative entourage that comes with them, making sure that we become a binding force, a hub of everyone’s ideas.”
John Bucher: As your team looks at game theory and entertainment design, you’re putting all these decisions in the hands of a user. Gamers are certainly used to having a level of decision making, but people that go to the movies are used to sitting there and zoning out. You have a wide variety of people you’re entertaining, from people that have a middle-school education, or children, all the way up to people that have Ph.Ds. Where do you find the sweet spot of decision making to keep an audience engaged on a general market level?
Chris Edwards: I think most of the people that are fans of movies and television shows are almost the same demographic as the people that go to family theme parks. Maybe not Six Flags, which is more based on roller coasters and thrill rides, but certainly Disneyland, Disney World, and Universal Adventure Parks. I think it’s the same general family audience, and so knowing what we know about that audience, and what works in cinema, and what works in themed entertainment, I think that the solution is just to make sure that it is something that they can sit down and enjoy, with some level of interactivity, but that doesn’t require them to do anything too sophisticated. That way you get the parents, the grandparents, and their uncle, who may come from a lot of different walks of life and training in terms of technology.
I like the idea of having experiences created with multiple modes, so that if you are more ambitious, you can get up and walk around, or if you’re the type of person that wants to be more entrepreneurial and creative, then you can have a function, in certain types of apps, that will allow you to create your own adventure, or do something a bit more. It takes more initiative. It’s a very broad answer, but I think that what audiences want right now are things that they recognize, because in any new medium, it’s kind of scary. Something proven, a franchise that’s recognizable that will draw a larger audience. It still has to be good, because I think as many spin-offs from major motion pictures that were, in themselves, good, but the actual spin-off, ancillary product of the game version of it turned out to be very disappointing to hard-core gamers, because they saw it as a reskinned version of some other old, tired game that didn’t really even work that well, and was frustrating. Clearly, the developers tried very hard, but they were just given a certain mandate with a day and date time that they needed to deliver by, and it wasn’t their best efforts. They probably weren’t integrated into the main thread of the creativity of the whole project—meaning that the film director had no idea that there was even a game being made—or if they did, they didn’t know where it was happening and no one consulted them.
We get visits from a lot of studios, from major IP holders, all asking, “Will you align forces with us to help mandate, and encourage a standard to happen whereby we can all be working together as one, because we only have more to gain through synergies, through a reduction of redundancy and all that.” These discussions are blowing wide open as a result of the VR. I would call it a second revolution of VR that we’re experiencing right now. It’s an exciting time, for both the technical people and for the creative people. We see ourselves as that bridge in the middle that’s saying, “Hey, you guys need to talk to each other. We’ll build a bridge for you.”

Concepts to Consider from Chris Edwards

  • VR shares connections with elements of theater and theme parks.
  • There are various situations in which the 180-degree field of view is preferred to the 360-degree field.
  • VR experiences allow for a simultaneous individual and collective experience.
  • Technical limitations should not be considered in the earliest stages of immersive designs, as they can inhibit imagination.
  • The technological and entertainment/artistic industries need each other’s expertise in order to take VR storytelling into the future.

Putting Ideas Together

Chris Edwards managed to turn his creative process into a large-scale company. His grounding philosophy was to let imagination trump limitation. Fields like VR can quickly become consumed by concerns about technology, an important partner in the storytelling process. However, the technology should serve the stories we dream and allow us more efficient and powerful ways to tell them. This approach in prioritization has served many other industries, such as animation, gaming, and even traditional theater, as well as historically. There is little reason to believe that the storytellers in disciplines creating immersive media will be any exception.

Connecting Classical Storytelling and Philosophy with Immersive Media

Exploring classical narrative techniques and figures alongside how these concepts might fit into emerging platforms is relatively uncharted territory. Some new technologies develop quickly and become embraced at such paces that reflective studies and spectrums of effect, which take time to develop and test, can risk becoming obsolete or irrelevant. Fortunately, there is a significant body of work around storytelling in classic literature, which we can build a base from in attempting to connect it with emerging media.

Plato, Socrates, and VR

Most scholars have conventionally held the position that Plato saw logos and muthos as fundamentally opposite ideas. Logos being the medium of philosophy and muthos that of poetry. This idea originates in the Protagoras, with Socrates’ criticism of poetry in the Republic, where muthos appears to refer to a story and logos to an argument.1 Socrates continues to make his case for this in Theaetetus and the Sophist. However, if we expand the definition of muthos to encompass storytelling beyond poetry to our wider understandings of narrative, the opposition becomes less stated. In Plato the Myth Maker, Luc Brisson argues that logos is an argument that follows a logical order and aims at demonstrating a conclusion for Plato. Muthos is an “unfalsifiable discourse that can be characterized as a story because it relates events whose sequence does not respect a rational order” (100, 110).2 Even if Plato was not a proponent of muthos and storytelling, there are still some significant thoughts we take from his work for VR and immersive experiences, most notably in his allegory of the cave and discussions of digesis and mimesis.

Plato’s Allegory of the Cave

Originally written as a dialogue between Plato’s brother Glaucon and his mentor Socrates about the effect of education and the lack of it on our nature, this narrative stands as one of the most memorable ideas in the Republic and has been used as a metaphor for a great number of postmodern ideas. The allegory describes a group of people who have lived chained to the wall of a cave their entire lives. They face the wall. All they can see is the wall. All they know is the wall. There is a fire behind them causing any person, animal, or object that passes between them and the fire to cast a shadow on the wall. The chained people begin to name the shadows, which become their concept of reality, unaware of a more vivid reality that exists right behind them. In the narrative, philosophers are prisoners who have been freed from not only the wall but the entire cave. These freed people are able to observe the actual world, including the sources of the shadows on the wall they have long watched. However, the blinding sun in the real world temporarily makes them unable to see when returning to the dark cave to tell the other prisoners about what they have witnessed. When the prisoners see their blind friend, they refuse to undertake freedom, willing to kill anyone who might try to drag them out of the cave.

There is a sharp division between those who would consider the blank wall that the prisoners stare at to be the “old world” we have known and those who consider it to be the “new world of media.” Is Virtual Reality a new reality that some have emerged from darkness to find new freedom in? Or is it the shadows being projected on the wall that only point to a faint image of actual reality? What are the implications of each philosophy? Does the allegory fall flat if the prisoners know that they are simply seeing shadows and that they are free to exit the cave any time they like? As with any cultural change or emerging technology, there are issues to be mindful about and consider. We will discuss further implications of Plato’s allegory in the section on ethics. However, for now, let us incorporate Aristotle’s ideas about narratives with Platonic approaches.

Diegetic and Mimetic Approaches in Aristotelian Narratives

Aristotelian narratives are those that follow the simplest structural three-act form. Simply stated, they have a beginning, a middle, and an end. Within Aristotelian narratives, scholars have differentiated between those that take a diegetic approach, in which a narrator tells the story, and a mimetic approach, in which there is a visual representation or direct embodiment of things that play out or show us the story. Narratologists such as Gerard Genette have further defined and divided the diegetic into levels such as the intradiegetic, the extradiegetic, and the metadiegetic.3 With the intradiegetic, a narrator exists within the fictional story world. With the extradiegetic, the narrator exists outside the fictional story world. In a metadiegetic narrative, the narrator exists within the story world, participates as a central character, and conveys a story of his or her own to other characters within the central narrative—essentially a story within the story. While some narratives stay strictly within the bounds of one approach, others have thrived through the combining of these approaches. The combining of these forms may be not only compelling but necessary in cinematic and VR storytelling.

The Diegetic and Mimetic in Cinematic Storytelling

Plato differentiated in the Republic between the epos (or epic) and the drama. Epic narratives told their stories through narration. Dramas showed their stories by having players enact the narrative. Cinema employs the epic through its use of dramatic tropes and technology. The camera has told us where to look in cinema. Lighting and lenses have further provided avenues for a diegetic approach. Editing brings us from one story point to the other by shifting time and space as the cinematic creator narrates our journey through the story. It might be easy to assume that films that employ a narrator or voice-over to tell us what characters are thinking and fill in gaps for us, much like the Greek chorus, which will be discussed later, also should be considered diegetic. However, voice-over, titles, and subtitles are usually considered nondiegetic elements in cinematic storytelling. The potential elimination of the edges of the frame in VR, AR, and MR should cause us to consider how these traditional terms might apply to storytelling in immersive media. Some VR is edited cinematically and some is not. This can further complicate our view of these concepts and use of these terms. It is important to remember that the key behind the classification of these ideas is intent. Is the storyteller trying to narrate the story for us through the use of these elements?

Aristotle suggested that humans are inherently mimetic beings, with a drive to imitate and capture reality through art. Cinema has always been a captured or represented experience—a mimetic experience. When inside an immersive experience, it is difficult not to consider the experience in real time. As immersed as we become in a movie, it would be rare that an audience member forgets that what is happening before them isn’t actually real as it might be in a play. This distinction becomes less clear once an HMD is put on, which is certainly the point. It may be important for storytellers to remember that diegetic storytelling usually proceeds the mimetic within an art form, or at least our observation of it does. VR experiences that employ a diegetic experience will likely be an easier transition for those still becoming used to the technology. The potential with intradiegetic, extradiegetic, and metadiegetic stories offers a wide variety of ways to tell a viewer a story in a VR experience. Their impact should not be underestimated. However, mimetic experiences will likely have even greater emotional impact. As with cinema, the most effective VR experiences will likely take advantage of both approaches. For those with greater interest in the diegetic and mimetic approaches in Virtual Reality, the work of Sandy Louchart and Ruth Aylett should be considered.4

Aeschylus, Sophocles, Euripides, and VR

While we only have a fraction of what was likely written, the work of Greek tragedians has played a highly significant role in the way the average viewer experiences a visual story. While we know that many more existed, only the tragedies of Aeschylus, Sophocles, and Euripides remain. Here is a brief list of the comparative points among the three.

Aeschylus (525–455 BCE)

  • Expanded from a single actor on stage to two
  • Used the Chorus front and center as the protagonists of the story
  • Themes of his work were the most theological and traditional of the tragedians

Sophocles (497–406 BCE)

  • Expanded from two actors to three and sometimes four
  • Expanded the role of the Chorus but removed them as the protagonist
  • Added painted scenery to settings
  • Themes of his work included political ideas and strong women (Antigone)

Euripides (480–406 BCE)

  • Expanded the cast to multiple actors
  • Limited and sometimes eliminated the Chorus
  • Themes also focused on strong women (Medea) and satirizing traditional Greek heroes

It is helpful to look back at the history and development of how our modern storytelling evolved, as we have been conditioned by these changes throughout the centuries to arrive at the place we are currently. No one would argue that immersive technologies such as VR, AR, and MR are in their earliest stages. Is it possible that we are in our own VR age of Aeschylus, still transitioning from a single viewer experience to a more social experience? Have early VR storytellers used a digital chorus that may be eliminated at some point? Theorists such as Schlegel have famously interpreted the role of the chorus as that of an ideal spectator.5 This would, of course, have significance in immersive experiences for a long time to come. The work of Euripides most closely resembles the types of dramas we most frequently see today. However, we must remember that it would not have been possible without the preceding work of Aeschylus and Sophocles. Euripides was able to see what had worked and what could be transcended in the work of his predecessors. VR storytellers must study the work of earlier creators in order to learn what can now be transcended in VR in order to fully envision the potentials of this new medium as distinct from other art forms such as cinema and gaming.

Balancing the Apollonian and Dionysian Approaches in the Immersive

There has not yet been a great deal of discussion on the role of mythology in the discipline. However, because mythological concepts and structures are largely connected to the development of storytelling in both literal and unconscious senses, it is worth our time to consider some of the principles from this discipline. Let us begin by considering the Apollonian and Dionysian philosophies and literary concepts from Greek mythology. Famously linked to Nietzsche’s The Birth of Tragedy in our modern era as artistic impulses, the concepts originate with Apollo and Dionysus, both sons of Zeus. Though the Greeks did not consider the duo to be rivals or opposites, the nature of each did sometimes cause conflict in various myths. For our purposes, we will look at striving to find a balance between the approaches that creates the most effective immersive experience. First, let us give greater detail on each approach.

The Apollonian Approach

Apollo and thus the Apollonian approach is based on logic and reason. Apollo was referred to as the god of the sun, giving him a natural connection to truth and light. Apollonian approaches value restraint, cultural good, harmony, and discipline. They prioritize order, control, moderation, clarity, and rules. From a technological perspective, experiences and games with an Apollonian approach will be those that clearly spell out to the player how to successfully complete the experience. They will err on the side of guiding the player through the experience and minimize confusion or wandering.

The Dionysian Approach

Dionysus and thus the Dionysian approach is based on instinct, emotion, unbridled passion, and, in extreme situations, chaos and irrationality. Dionysus was the god of the earth, spring and renewal. He was known to be the god of wine, madness, tragedy, and the theater. His approach often arises in discussions of expression and the body. Dionysian approaches value spontaneity, intuition, feelings, and imagination. From a technological perspective, experiences and games with a Dionysian approach will allow the player to explore the world put before them. They will err on the side of allowing players to get lost and even frustrated with the experience. It is also worth noting that theorists such as Brenda Laurel have compared the experience of Virtual Reality to the Dionysian cultic experience in which a shaman led initiates into a cave for a mediated experience of ritualistic significance.6

Finding Balance

While we will consider interactivity in storytelling later, it is worth noting that much of the philosophies behind the different approaches to telling stories in immersive space tends to lean toward one of these approaches. How far an experience should lean into one approach or the other will vary depending on the experience being created. However, throughout the history of other art forms that have relied on the tension between these approaches, common practice has led creators to look for a position somewhere between the two. Balance tends to create the most successful experiences. Early Flash Gordon serials set in space relied completely on the emotional storytelling so common to the Dionysian approach. Often, the technology and science surrounding space travel and living was either glossed over or completely ignored. Later, Star Trek would set stories in space with a distinctly Apollonian approach, basing the crew’s success greatly on logic and reason. It was not until Star Wars that a successful balance of Dionysian and Apollonian approaches brought both camps together, which made for successful storytelling that eclipsed all space stories that came before it.

The Role of Ritual

It is difficult to bring up the topic of the Dionysian without giving some voice to ritual. “Ritual” might be another term surprising to find in a discussion of storytelling in immersive space. However, repetition and ritual are key components of the logic in immersive experiences both inside and outside of interactive stories and video games. Both Aristotle, who pointed to the dithyramb (sung and improvised poetry performed by the cult of Dionysus), and Nietzsche, who used Aristotle’s work as the basis of The Birth of Tragedy, have contended that ancient Greek tragedy, and thus most of modern storytelling, derives from ritual. Religious historian and cultural critic Mircea Eliade argued that ritual is the reenactment of the foundational events that are commemorated in myth.7 In other words, we repeat what the “gods” did in the beginning—we repeat the creative act. The recreation of events, time, and space that becomes a new reality mirrors the act of transubstantiation found in religious rituals such as the Eucharist. The fact that we must currently either blind our vision of actual reality with the use of an HMD or enter a CAVE (cave automatic virtual environment) to experience Virtual Reality further links it to our concept of ritual activities. Even Augmented and Mixed Realities require some sort of mediated experience that again provides the link. The discussion of ritual in immersive experiences, to which entire volumes have been devoted, reminds us that we are indeed creating mediated experiences. These experiences come with their own sets of ethics and techniques in making them successful.

The old gods are dead or dying and people everywhere are searching, asking: What is the new mythology to be, the mythology of this unified earth as of one harmonious being? One cannot predict the next mythology any more than one can predict tonight’s dream: for mythology is not an ideology … Indeed, the first and most essential service of a mythology is this one, of opening the mind and heart to the utter wonder of all being.

—Joseph Campbell
Introduction to The Inner Reaches of
Outer Space: Metaphor as Myth and Religion
8

Mythological Approaches to the Immersive

While this topic likely deserves its own lengthy exploration, we will attempt to give a brief overview of relevant mythological approaches significant to the discussion of VR, AR, and MR. There are a number of mythological theorists whose work figures in to thinking about the immersive. However, none more so than that of Joseph Campbell. Campbell wrote a great deal about mythic dimensions and journeys that one can become immersed in by entering certain spaces and engaging with specific practices. In one particular discussion about the metaphoric journey of engaging a Navajo sand painting, Campbell discusses the archetypal adventure of physically entering the painting, which is the way the art form is meant to be experienced. He goes on to suggest that we actually become mythic figures through the experience, and therefore our experience becomes mythologized.9 It does not require a great leap to assume that Campbell would have had a similar perspective about immersive experiences like VR. He furthers his explanation of immersive art and mythological art comparing the sand art to a rainbow, which is composed of both matter and light, formed by reflection and refraction. It is both material and immaterial in the same way that VR is both material and immaterial.

Another area of Campbell’s work of particular interest to creators of immersive experiences involves the interpretation of symbolic forms. Using symbolic forms cuts through the rigorous task of explaining to a viewer the meaning behind objects, landscapes, and even certain characters when constructing a narrative. For example, if we see a character wandering through the desert, no one must explain to us the hardships of the desert that the character will encounter, even if we ourselves have never experienced the trials one faces in such terrain. This is because the desert serves as a symbol. Because of the initial shock a viewer can experience while orienting to a new immersed space, relying on symbolic form, at least initially, can be helpful in achieving a successful narrative. Campbell grounds his thoughts on symbolic form in Jung’s four basic psychological functions of virtue, of which we apprehend and evaluate all experience. These are sensation and intuition, which are apprehending functions, and thinking and feeling, which are those of judgment and evaluation.10 Campbell explains that Jung suggested we tend to shape our lives by combining one function from each pair. For example, one might embrace sensation and thinking, leaving intuition and feeling undeveloped. Understanding the potential for the psychological perspective one could hold when entering immersive space can be helpful in considering how the viewer may conceive narrative. A great deal more could be considered of Campbell’s work, including how his monomyth in the now-classic The Hero With a Thousand Faces might function in virtual immersive space. However, those thoughts must be left for a later volume. For now, we can simply ponder the connection between the opening of the mind and heart to wonder, which Campbell claimed was the service of mythology, and the immersive experiences we are creating.

SPOTLIGHT ON NARRATIVE: Fiction Versus Nonfiction Storytelling

This interview is a continuation of the discussion with Emmy®-winning experience designer Steve Peters in Chapter 5, now focused on issues and nuances surrounding fiction and nonfiction storytelling in immersive spaces.

John Bucher: Tell me about how you became interested in storytelling, especially in the digital space.
Steve Peters: For me it all began in 2001 with the AI alternate reality game The Beast that was built by Elan Lee and the guys at Microsoft. I was a music producer in Seattle in the summer of 2001, and I was playing along with this online murder mystery that was tied in with a movie. I thought, “This is really interesting how it’s done.” I was leaving my office for lunch one afternoon and my phone rang. It was a character from the AI game calling me. I forgot all about lunch. I ran back into my office and got online again because I knew something happened in the story. I knew something happened in the game. Afterwards, that night I remember thinking, “That was crazy because literally this game just reached out and grabbed me and pulled me back in when I wasn’t even thinking about it.” I thought, “That is a game changer.” For 2001, this was before social media and push notifications and all that stuff. It’s the first time a game actually called me.
That piqued my interest. That was a crossroads for me. It was the point where I started thinking, “This is an interesting, very cutting-edge way to entertain people,” and I got really into it. I built communities, then ultimately built my own grassroots alternate reality with some friends. Over the years, I became friends with Elan Lee and Shawn Stewart, who went on to found 42 Entertainment. Then they hired me for my audio production knowledge, but because of my experience as a player of these things, it became obvious that I could help a lot with the design as well, and so I immediately started helping them—learning from the best, the pioneers.
John Bucher: Tell me a little bit about your first experience with VR.
Steve Peters: I didn’t try an Oculus Rift until a couple years ago. It was my first VR experience. It was very low resolution, but very effective. I was struck by how I felt I was in a physical environment even though it was pixelated. That immediately piqued my interest. From a design standpoint, I’ve been holding back before diving into a lot of VR projects because the vocabulary of storytelling for VR is not quite there yet, so I’m in a wait-and-see attitude with VR narratives. With gaming, I’m totally on board. I totally get it, and doing narrative storytelling in Virtual Reality requires a lot of game mechanics that should be considered.
John Bucher: Let’s go back to the vocabulary of storytelling, especially as it relates to these new canvases. Can you talk about what you see as necessary elements to build a vocabulary for storytelling in VR?
Steve Peters: There’s a lot that VR can learn from gaming. I think back to my days playing Half-Life 2, and there was a version of it where you could actually play along with a developer’s commentary. They explained something that they did as far as creating vistas or creating ways to draw the player’s attention to look in a specific direction, even though it didn’t feel like they were doing it. They would build scenarios where the player would turn a corner and then they would come across this huge vista, and it was an establishing shot for whatever was going to happen. Or a little sound would then grab your attention and you’d look up there in time to see something that was happening, or a light was subtly shining on something.
They had so many ways to subliminally direct your attention. It’s tough with audio because true binaural audio isn’t responsive, so it’s tough to pinpoint a location for somebody and direct them by sound. My frustration is invariably that I’ll be watching or doing something in VR and something’s happening behind me. I don’t like having to get up out of my chair and turn around. For me, when I’m immersed in true VR as opposed to 360 video, I want to be able to interact with things around me. It’s the game of Myst. It’s a 3D environment. Whereas filmed narrative, which is basically 360 video, where you’re an observer, it creates a lot of the dilemma of where do I look and also who am I on the stage, and where is that proscenium? If I’m in the scene surrounded by the scene, who am I?
There’s the issues of the third person or first person and understanding that it’s a weird thing to be somewhere and feel like you’re really there but nobody’s paying any attention to you and you have no agency. It’s things like how do you effectively do an edit in 360 video that’s not really jarring? A lot of people are experimenting with stuff like that. It’s an education because just like film audiences didn’t know how to respond the first time they saw camera movies and edits. It took a while to establish that filmmaking vocabulary. I think we’re still in those early stages. We’ve got that film camera and we’re putting it on a tripod and we’re just shooting a stage play because we haven’t developed these other ways to tell stories based on the technology. I think it’s a process and I think we’re still in the very beginning stages of that.
John Bucher: Let’s talk about this idea of an immersive experience. Obviously, immersive experiences go back as far as human beings have been on this planet. Especially in the last 100 years we’ve seen a rise in really manufactured immersive experiences. We’ve also seen the rise of things like immersive theater, trying to create a sense of immersion in theatrical experiences. What is your theory on why we continually crave a greater and greater immersive experience?
Steve Peters: The pendulum is swinging back from, “Look at this digital stuff that’s so amazing and so shiny.” I think that’s losing its luster a bit. In a day where we can watch 4K movies with surround sound in our living rooms, when we go out, there’s got to be a reason, and the one thing that you can’t get in your living room is an actual experience. Disney is struggling with trying to find ways to limit the attendance because they’re overrun with more and more people wanting their experience. Real life has the best immersion because you still cannot beat it.
It’s ironic when at Universal Studios, with a lot of their big attractions, you have to put 3D glasses on to experience them. I’m thinking, “They’re missing the point of a real location with things that I can touch and things that I can’t get digitally.” They’re doing other stuff. They’ve got Harry Potter World. Huge immersion there. Building it in a way that you can dress up and feel like you’re actually there near Hogwarts. They opened up a Walking Dead attraction where, it’s all real people. There’s no 3D projections. That’s the same thing with escape rooms. I think people are now starting to crave the organic. They’re starting to crave the analog again. With our little black screens, we’ve seen it all and done it, and now it’s like, “I want something I can touch and hold.” I think that’s a challenge for VR because it’s yet another way that I can immerse myself.
As far as entertainment, I don’t know that people are going to continue wanting to take a step deeper into digital unless it’s giving them something that is impossible for them to experience physically. Going to the bottom of the sea or going to Mars, I can totally see the value of that. As far as watching a movie and feeling like you’re there, it’s going to be a challenge. We’re going to have to see where that goes. The pendulum’s swinging back to the real world, and I think that’s a good thing.
John Bucher: You brought up agency, which is a big topic of discussion in this world. It seems in digital environments, whenever we bring up the topic of agency, we immediately go to game theory. Can you talk about agency outside of the world of gaming?
Steve Peters: I think a lot of people, when they talk about interactive anything, especially interactive storytelling, they immediately go to the Choose Your Own Adventure books. That’s the agency. Let them choose the ending. As my friend Shawn Stewart always said, “How many Choose Your Own Adventure books do we have on our shelves?” Ultimately, that’s not a satisfying story because you feel like it’s video games with alternate endings. When you finish one ending, what’s the first thing you want to do? You want to go back to a save point and now see the stuff you missed. Whereas if it feels like somebody has crafted a story and I can have an unexpected result at the end, I think that’s better.
I think there are ways to give people the illusion of agency. In alternate reality games, we’ve done this a lot over the years—giving people the illusion of impacting the story. Even though we know and they know in the back of their minds that it’s on rails. But we are able to give them the illusion so that they can suspend their disbelief and feel like they have made this happen. A simple example is The Dark Knight project that I worked on. We had players register to vote and become part of Gotham and they would get voter registration cards. Then there was the actual election. We had an election that voted Harvey Dent into office as district attorney. Now, everybody knew that he was going to get elected. At the same time, I was amazed at how much they just loved that. They loved the voter registration cards and they gathered in their districts and even made websites for their districts.
We knew they were going to vote that way. We set things up so that even if they didn’t somehow vote that way, they would have no way of knowing because they weren’t actually shifting the story. Now you can build things where maybe something will happen and you can have a branch for sure, but it ultimately comes back to the same major story arc. I found that to be a lot more satisfying for people. They don’t want to ask, “If we had done this thing, would we have been able to save this person’s life?” Maybe you could’ve ultimately, but would that have changed the main story? No, not really. At the same time, we’re able to give them agency in feeling like this is a living, breathing place and I helped elect Harvey Dent into office.
There’s an interesting approach with Alternate Reality games where my goal is to try to make it feel like the story, and I guess that is the ultimate agency—that what we’re telling is actually taking place right now in the same world that we live in. There’s all sorts of little tricks we can do to make that feel real. Obviously, phone calls do that because somebody’s calling me, or I call a phone number, or I email and I get a message back. That feels very real. You surround the people with the story in whatever ways you can and in whatever ways that would make sense to the story.
John Bucher: Steve, in your work, you encounter the cutting edge of narrative design and storytelling, and these new forms seem to rise all the time. Can you talk about what disciplines VR can learn from?
Steve Peters: Specifically, to me, experience design is not so much creating rules to follow but being able to develop a sense after working with people of anticipating unanticipated consequences of audience actions or inactions and creating a more and more finely tuned sense of empathy over time with your audience. In whatever project I’m doing, I find myself asking why are they going to do this? What’s going to be their motivation to do this thing you’re asking them to do? In VR, that’s the main question. What is going to be your audience’s motivation for even looking in a certain direction? Or, from a bigger standpoint, what’s going to be their motivation to put on that headset as opposed to just watching the content on a screen?
It’s like with the balancing of game design; you got the ask versus the payoff. More and more, once the novelty of VR wears off, then your payoff has to be even better. I’m asking you to put on this headset and turn it on and be uncomfortable. The payoff better be great. From a storytelling standpoint, I always like to think of, in the case of novels, what is the biggest ask a book requires of you? To turn the page. To get you to turn the page, they have to make sure the story is compelling enough to make you want to do that. What’s the digital equivalent? I think with digital stuff, with VR, it’s even more important than that because you’re asking a lot more of an audience than just flipping the page. You’re saying, “Now go do this thing.” Whatever the interaction is, there’s a balance between interaction that makes sense to move the story forward and interaction that then just becomes busywork or homework or gimmicky to move the story forward.
I think geolocation games have that challenge now, too. Pokémon Go touched on actually getting people up out of their chairs and out into the streets. That’s going to wear off. The thing that VR creators can learn from gaming is there has to be a constant balance of difficulty versus reward in order to keep them as a player. Because if all of a sudden the game gets too hard, they’re going to get frustrated and they’re going to turn it off. If all of a sudden they get confused and they don’t know where to go or what to look for, or they lost track of the story, then you’re going to lose them. The statistic that’s the most well-kept secret in the games industry I heard was only 17% of gamers make it to the end of the games they purchase. I don’t know if it’s 17%, but it’s very low. It’s 17% to 20%. One in five people actually finish a game.

Concepts to Consider from Steve Peters

  • VR requires game mechanics that must be considered when developing an experience.
  • Gaming has established a vocabulary effective at getting users to look in directions that creators desire.
  • True VR should allow the user agency and the ability to interact with the environment.
  • Cultural cravings for the organic and tactile will be a challenge for VR.
  • Agency can include the illusion of impacting the story.

Putting Ideas Together

Steve Peters mentions what could be one of the biggest obstacles to success in VR storytelling, the potential of digital exhaustion with users. This factor could greatly impact the length of time that an audience is willing to be immersed in VR, especially if that immersion involves wearing an HMD. Stories must be crafted at a pace that honors the audience’s tolerance for the experience. Technological advancements that allow tactile responses with objects and other users will certainly have impact on this tolerance. However, the ability of the story to engage the viewer will likely always be the determining factor in the success of the experience with the user. The immersive experience will always be a dance between the creator and the audience. Recognizing the subtleties of the dance will come with time and experience on the part of both parties. It will be the role of the creators, however, to lead the dance and not to step on the toes of their partners.

 

Exercise 7

Developing More Advanced Characters

OBJECTIVE: 1. To demonstrate the methods for creating strong, advanced, well-developed characters.

Assignment

  1. Create a character using the Developing a Main Character exercise.
  2. Create a five-page backstory for the character that includes physical and internal attributes and how those attributes came to be. Use one of the following attributes in your description: a scar, nontalkative, talks too much, a limp, hair that covers their eyes. (Remember, you are creating a backstory and describing detail about the character NOT telling the story of the character. Any mentions of stories or scenarios should be brief and only relate to something we know about the character’s present state.)
  3. Create a one-page description of things we could only learn about the character in 360-degree immersive space.
 

Exercise 8 

Developing a Simple Immersive Narrative

OBJECTIVE: 1. To develop the thought process necessary for thinking through immersive space that would support strong narratives.

Assignment

  1. Create a narrative using the Developing a Simple Narrative exercise.
  2. Create three different scenes for the narrative that take advantage of different settings or environments.
  3. Create a two-page description of each scene and environment it takes place in. Describe what can be seen when a viewer looks north, south, east, west, up, and down. Also, describe any other characters, animals, or objects that enter the space while the protagonist is there.
  4. Create a one-page description of what the protagonist is meant to feel and experience in this narrative if it is designed as a first-person experience.
 

Exercise 9 

Developing a More Advanced Immersive Narrative

OBJECTIVE: 1. To develop a more advanced thought process necessary for thinking through immersive space that would support strong narratives.

Assignment

  1. Create a narrative using the Developing a Simple Narrative exercise.
  2. Create 10 to 12 different scenes for the narrative that take advantage of different settings or environments.
  3. Create a two-page description of each scene and environment it takes place in. Describe the role that the environment will play in the storytelling. Also, describe any other characters, animals, or objects that enter the space while the protagonist is there.
  4. Create a one-page description of how the protagonist will move through or be transported through space. Discuss how transitions between scenes will occur if they do.
  5. Create a one-page description, for each scene, of what the protagonist is meant to feel and experience in this narrative if it is designed as a first-person experience.
  6. If the narrative experience you have created is interactive, create a one-page description describing the agency the viewer will experience while immersed.

Notes

1Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy Online. http://plato.stanford.edu/entries/plato-myths/

2Brisson, Luc and Gerard Naddaf (trans.). Plato the Myth Maker. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1998. Print.

3Gennette, Gerard. Narrative Discourse: An Essay in Method. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 1980. Print.

4Louchart, Sandy and Ruth Aylett. Towards a Narrative Theory of Virtual Reality. Salford, UK: The Centre for Virtual Environments, University of Salford. Digital.

5Foley, Helene. “Choral Identity in Greek Tragedy.” Classical Philology 98.1 (January 2003): 1–30. Digital.

6Laurel, Brenda. Computers as Theatre. Menlo Park, CA: Addison Wesley, 1991. Digital.

7Ryam, Marie-Laure. Narrative as Virtual Reality. Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 2001. Print.

8Campbell, Joseph. The Inner Reaches of Outer Space: Metaphor as Myth and as Religion. New York: Harper Perennial, 1995. Print.

9Campbell, Joseph. The Inner Reaches of Outer Space. Novato: New World Library, 1986. Print.

10Campbell, Joseph. The Mythic Dimension. San Francisco: Harper, 1993. Print.

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