Henry Jenkins provides the most widely used definition of transmedia storytelling in Convergence Culture:

A transmedia story unfolds across multiple media platforms, with each new text making a distinctive and valuable contribution to the whole. In the ideal form of transmedia storytelling each medium does what it does best—so that a story might be introduced in a film, expanded through television, novels, and comics…Each franchise entry needs to be self-contained so you don’t need to have seen the film to enjoy the game or vice versa.[1]

One might think of Jenkins’ definition of transmedia storytelling as a photographic mosaic. In a photomosaic, each pixel is its own image, but when the pixels are compounded and stitched together, they form a much larger picture.  Similarly, a transmedia story does not privilege one text over another – the fictional world cannot be exhausted within a single medium. When all the dispersed elements of a transmedia story are pieced together, with each text contributing key bits of information, the result is a better understanding and unified picture of the story world at large.

Before examining what transmedia storytelling is, it is important to understand what it is not. As described in 1.1, most major entertainment franchises barrage consumers with promotional and redundant content across media. But this is transmedia branding, not storytelling. A Heroes promo spot on the Internet or a Heroes T-Shirt does nothing to enhance the fictional universe, but The 9th Wonders! comic book provides a candid, insightful look into the prophetic visions of one of the characters.

Another distinction must be made between transmedia extensions and adaptations. The Harry Potter films, for example, are essentially the same narratives as J.K. Rowling’s books, with the same characters and the same dialogue, only reinterpreted and subjectively altered. [2]  Thus, the Harry Potter films are a retelling of a story, not a distinct addition to it. Granted, some people may consider a visually pleasing and entertaining adaptation “a distinct and valuable” contribution to a franchise, since it brings the characters and events to life. But in transmedia storytelling, each text stands as a distinct component of some larger narrative timeline.

For example, Jenkins describes The Matrix franchise as one of the boldest attempts at transmedia storytelling. The Matrix is about a dystopian future where mankind’s perceived reality is actually a simulation created by machines in order to pacify the human race and use their bodies as a source for energy. After the success of the first film, Andy and Larry Wachowski sketched out a plan to extend the narrative across additional media components.  In theory, by expanding the narrative into comics, short anime films, a videogame, and eventually a massive multiplayer online game, hard-core fans could satisfy their craving for more information while at the same time, new audiences could discover The Matrix through multiple points of entry.

Rather than serving as redundant adaptations, each text contributed a new part of the overall story. For example, in the animated short Flight of the Osiris, the protagonist barely manages to deliver a letter warning the crew of the Nebuchadnezzar, a hovercraft in “real world,” that the sentinel machines were going to attack Zion, the last human city on Earth, in a mere 72 hours. [3]  The letter resurfaced in the videogame, Enter the Matrix, where the player retrieved the letter from the post office. Finally, in The Matrix Reloaded, characters make passing references to the “last transmissions of the Osiris.” People who followed the trajectory of the letter across media platforms were treated to a unique transmedia experience.[4] This passing reference was just one of many recurring motifs across the multiple media components of the Matrix franchise. The video game and short animated films developed characters who had mere cameos in the films and also provided back-story on the main characters.

Despite its bold transmedia aspirations, The Matrix had some notable problems. For one, regular moviegoers were not prepared for the hypertextual logic of The Matrix sequels. [5] The sequels’ highly complex narrative placed new demands on audiences, and many were upset that transmedia consumption seemed to be a requirement for comprehension. Additionally, the Enter the Matrix game received poor reviews with many critics and fans frustrated by the limited linear game play and the over-use of cut scenes.[6] These two complaints — that the films were too dependent on transmedia content and that individual texts were not enjoyable in their own right  — will return in my Chapter 4 discussion of Lost. Yet at the very least, The Matrix began a discussion about the implementation of transmedia storytelling and how it might succeed creatively and economically in the 21st-century.

[1] Jenkins, 95-96.
[2] For a more in-depth discussion of the difference betwen adaptation and transmediation see: Long, Geoffrey. Transmedia Storytelling: Business, Aesthetics, and Production at the Jim Henson Company. Cambridge: Massachusetts Institute of Technology Master’s Thesis, 2007.
[3] Dena, Christy. “How the Internet is Holding the Centre of Conjured Universes.” Paper presented at Internet Research 7.0: Internet Convergences, Association of Internet Researchers. Brisbane, Queensland, 27-30 September 2006.
[4] Ibid.
[5] Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture.
[6] Gerstmann, Jeff. “Enter the Matrix Review.” Gamespot.com. 20 May 2003.
< http://www.gamespot.com/pc/action/enterthematrix/review.html?page=2>

There also exists a subset within cultural convergence—“cult convergence” if you will—where cult media intersects with the mainstream culture. Many people think of cult television in terms of a sci-fi or fantasy show yielding a small yet devoted following. Yet this assumption breaks down when you consider other genres of TV shows, like Veronica Mars and Arrested Development, which attract a small, but passionate community. Similarly, sci-fi shows like Battlestar Galactica and Lost, are difficult to classify as purely “cult,” since they have attained such high profile, mainstream success. Sara Gwenllian-Jones focuses her definition of cult TV based on a myriad of narrative traits that invite fans to revel in a show’s complexity:

Cult television’s serial and segmented forms, its familiar formulae, its accumulated multiple storylines, its metatextuality, its ubiquitous intertextuality and intratextuality, its extension across a variety of media, its modes of self-reflexivity and constant play of interruption and excess, work together to overwhelm the processural order of cause and effect, enigma and resolution, extending story events and other narrative and textual elements across boundless networks of interconnected possibilities.[1]

This laundry list of narrative qualities is rather overwhelming, but it is a fair assessment of the various elements that promote collective intelligence and loyal fandom.  However, Matt Hills argues that cult media is not just “found” based on the content and structure of a text, but “created” based on “a raft of overlapping and interlocking versions of ‘us’ and them.”[2] In other words, what makes a media text “cult” is dependent on the complex processes by which fans position the text in opposition to the mainstream. The distinction between cult and mainstream is even more complicated today, especially as industry professionals seek audiences that engage with programs in “cult-like” ways.[3]

Jeff Gomez, CEO of Starlight Runner, observes this trend at Comic Con, an event that used to be a small gathering of comic book enthusiasts has now become a commercial portal into “cult” realms:

Each year, Comic Con attracts well over 100,000 “gatekeepers,” fans of niche, cult or genre entertainment who make it their business to spread the word about the newest and coolest content to their friends and acquaintances both in their home communities and on the Internet. It used to be that one of these gatekeepers would have a circle of five to ten contacts back home to whom he or she would convey what was best about the convention. Now in the age of social networking and pop culture web portals, that number has multiplied exponentially. Add to this the mass media coverage given to Comic Con and content producers can reach untold millions through it.[4]

As described in section 1.3, the reason why cult fans are so valuable is because the Internet enables a small yet vocal fan community to potentially reach a global audience.  As Steven Johnson puts it:

[Showmakers] are relying on the amplifying power of the serious hard-core fans, who are 1% of the audience, to broadcast some of these cool little discoveries to perhaps 10% of their audience. Those are the great evangelists for the show, the 10% who are out there saying, Oh, God, I am so addicted to this show.” And they help reel in the other 90%, which is where gratifying the superfans pays off.[5]

Hard-core fans can effectively provide free labor for television shows, but at a price. As the line between commercial and grassroots continues to blur, cult fans look for new resources to maintain their separation from mainstream culture. In 1992, Henry Jenkins observed that fans legitimated their identity through “textual poaching,” appropriating and repurposing the meanings of commercial materials for their own interests and needs.[6] While this certainly is still the case, the era of convergence makes it possible for the entertainment industry to provide unique experiences to cult fans, justifying their distinction from, and even their superiority to, mainstream fandom. Cult fans now expect to interact with the cast and crew of a show through online forums and chats. They expect extratextual content with which they can increase their mastery over regular viewers. And the industry is seeing the economic value in legitimating the most loyal cult fans as “insiders,” as members of an elite group.[7] Ed Sanchez, co-creator of the Blair Witch Project, explains:

If you give people enough stuff to explore, they will explore. Not everyone but some of them will. The people who do explore and take advantage of the whole world will forever be your fans, they will give you an energy you can’t buy through marketing.[8]

Sanchez’s comments suggest that the more narrative resources available for cult fans, the more opportunities exist for them to increase the breath of their knowledge, connect with other fans, form communities, and generally feel more involved in their experience of the fictional world. In an era where ‘geek properties’ are consistently being converted into mainstream ones (X-Men, Star Trek, Lost, Heroes), television producers are learning they must find ways to reward the most enthusiastic fans by giving them a sense of value and appreciation.

In conclusion, one might understand the various types of convergences as follows: Media conglomerates want money from many different media sectors. The television industry wants to compete in an expanding content market. Consumers want to increase their participation and freedom within the media environment. And cult fans want to maintain their identity as separate from the mainstream. In Chapter 3, I offer a creative model for designing transmedia narratives, a mode of storytelling that can help address these goals. First, however, I must provide background on a more basic question: what exactly is transmedia storytelling and how does it work in television?

[1] Gwenllian-Jones, Sara and Pearson, Roberta. Cult Television. Eds. Sara Gwenllian-Jones and Roberta Pearson. University of Minnesota Press, 2004. xvii.
[2] Hills, Matt. Fan Cultures. New York: Routledge, 2002. 27.
[3] Ross, Sharon Marie. Beyond the Box.
[4] Gomez highlights other reasons for the mainstreaming of cult media, including the rise of baby boomers and gen-Xers in the entertainment industry, the A-list treatment of sci-fi serials, the greater quality of storytelling, and the reflective mood of politics in genre content. In “Talking Transmedia: An Interview With Starlight Runner’s Jeff Gomez (part one).” Henryjenkins.org. 28 May 2008. <http://henryjenkins.org/2008/05/an_interview_with_starlight_ru.html.>
[5] Quoted in Poniewozik, James. “Why the Future of Television is Lost” Time Magazine. 24 September 2006. <http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1538635-3,00.html>
[6] Jenkins, Henry. Textual Poachers: Television Fans & Participatory Culture. New York: Routledge, 1992.
[7] Ross, Sharon Marie. Beyond the Box.
[8] Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture, 103.

In Convergence Culture, Henry Jenkins argues that convergence is not a technological endpoint. [1] That is, the future of convergence is not a single “black box” capable of all media functions. Such a perspective fails to consider the economic, social and cultural forces that shape how technology is used.[2] For example, Priscilla Coit Murphy discredits the idea that books will eventually disappear and give way to newer media. She argues that books are deeply embedded within our media system, fulfilling social interests (by offering a unique type of media experience), economic interests (media conglomerates do not want to abandon a viable commodity), and intellectual interests (books are a vital part of learning and knowledge).[3]  Though its content, audience, function, and social status may shift, the fact is, “old” media ultimately coexist with “new” media.[4] Theatre coexists with cinema. Radio coexists with television. And as discussed in the last section, television coexists with the Internet.

Instead of understanding convergence as primarily technological, Jenkins argues that convergence is a cultural process emerging from two powerful forces:

The American media environment is now being shaped by two seemingly contradictory trends: on the one hand, new media technologies have lowered production and distribution costs, expanded the range of available delivery channels and enabled consumers to archive, annotate, appropriate and recirculate media content in powerful new ways; on the other hand, there has been an alarming concentration of the ownership of mainstream commercial media, with a small handful of multinational media conglomerates dominating all sectors of the entertainment industry.[5]

Cultural convergence, then, is the interplay between the top-down power of economic convergence (media conglomerates dispersing content across media) and the bottom-up power of participatory culture (consumers interacting with media content and technology in unpredictable ways). After focusing on media consolidation in 1.1, I now to turn to the capabilities of participatory culture, specifically as they relate to television.

In our participatory culture, consumers are active, socially connected participants within the changing media environment. New technologies become tools within a multimedia sandbox, empowering ‘typical’ consumers to become creators, artists, and visionaries. With little effort and time, one can easily edit video, manipulate graphics, remix intellectual property, and post it all to YouTube. The way Jenkins sees it, “the power of participation comes not from destroying commercial culture, but from writing over it, modding it, amending it, expanding it, adding greater diversity of perspective, and then re-circulating it, feeding it back into the mainstream media.”[6]

Crucial to the idea of participatory culture is collective intelligence, the “ability of virtual communities to leverage the combined expertise of their members.”[7] The idea of collective intelligence is that individuals will combine their talents and knowledge to achieve tasks and goals that no one could have completed alone. Within television fandom, one of the best examples is Lostpedia, a comprehensive, user-generated guide to the fictional world of Lost. As I will discuss in Chapter 4, Lost’s narrative complexity encourages close examination and triggers encyclopedic impulses. Together, fans collaborate to investigate and decipher an array of puzzles and enigmas to uncover Lost’s vast narrative data.

In light of these participatory practices, consumers have changed their expectations for entertainment. They now crave media texts offering complexity, community, and opportunities for creativity, texts that enable consumers to satisfactorily apply their participatory capabilities. To a large degree, these new demands are associated with younger generations.[8] Sharon Ross, in her book, Beyond the Box, notes that the Millennial generation is particularly “migratory,” meaning that they are quite skilled at traversing multiple media to hunt down content.[9] As Ross observes, Millenials are so used to multitasking on the Internet — sharing, communicating, and social networking — that they do so without even thinking about it. As a result, Jenkins points out, Millenials are coming to expect multiplatform components from their entertainment:

The kids who have grown up consuming and enjoying Pokemon across media are going to expect the same experience from The West Wing as they get older. By design, Pokemon unfolds across games, television programs, films, and books, with no media privileged over any other. For our generation, the hour long, ensemble-based, serialized drama was the pinnacle of sophisticated storytelling, but for the next generation, it is going to seem like well, child’s play.[10]

Jenkins argues that younger consumers are adept at tracking down character backgrounds and side-plots, and then making connections across many different texts of a franchise. Marsha Kinder argues that these “hunters and gatherers” learn transmedia navigation at an early age through video games.[11] That is, a child’s enjoyment of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles Nintendo game would actively encourage their interest in the film, videogames, websites, and merchandise.

To cater to these transmedia expectations, Sharon Ross  observes how television producers are experimenting with “invitational strategies” for ‘tele-participation’: “interactions with a show beyond the moment of viewing and outside of the television show.”[12] Some strategies are rather explicit, like informing people to vote for their favorite American Idol contestant. Other invitations are more “obscure” because participation is encouraged through narrative complexity, inviting fans to compare notes and collaborate to make sense out of it all. Either way, the key point from Ross’ research is that television producers can only offer the invitation; ultimately, the viewer has “the power to refuse it, accept it, bring along a guest, drop by, or stay and really party.”[13] Thus, inviting tele-participation, as Ross’ research suggests, helps create a shared sense of ownership over a property and tears down the barrier between the “authoritative” media producer and the “passive” media consumer.

If new technologies create a venue for greater audience tele-participation (fan fictions, wikis, remixes, viding), they also enable television networks to capitalize on consumers’ participatory activities, generating higher ratings, brand awareness, and save-the-show activism. Many producers and cast members maintain direct interaction with fans. Some networks have fan fiction contests and galleries, while others, like the WB’s WBlender, provide tools for users to produce music videos or mash-ups without infringing on copyright. Corporate and grassroots forces are constantly interacting with one another, and it is this exchange that fuels transmedia storytelling.

[1] Understanding convergence primarily as technological is what Jenkins calls the  “black box fallacy.” In Convergence Culture, 13.
[2] Ibid.
[3] Murphy, Priscilla Coit. “Books are Dead, Long Live Books.” Rethinking Media Change: The Aesthetics of Transition. Eds. David Thorburn and Henry Jenkins. Cambridge: The MIT Press, 2003. 81-95.
[4] Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture.
[5] Ibid.,18.
[6] Ibid., 257.
[7]Jenkins applies the French philosopher Pierre Levy’s notion of collective intelligence to the digital age. Convergence Culture, 27.
[8] Jenkins, et al.  “Confronting the Challenges of Participatory Culture: Media Education in the 21st Century.” White Paper for MacArthur Foundation, 2006.
[9] Ross, Sharon Marie. Beyond the Box: Television and the Internet. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell Publishing, 2008.
[10] “Transmedia Storytelling.” MIT Technology Review.
[11] Kinder, Marsha.  Playing with Power in Movies, Television and Video Games: From
Muppet Babies to Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. University of California Press, 1991.
[12] Beyond the Box, 4.
[13] “Inviting Our Participation: An Interview with Sharon Marie Ross (Part One).” Henryjenkins.org. 8 October 2008.

Where media conglomerates see profit in convergence, many television professionals see the apocalypse.[1] Executives worry that personal video recorders and Internet access will destroy broadcast television and cripple its business model.[2] Traditionally, the television industry could control when, where and how viewers consumed their programming. In the era of Television 2.0 however, new technologies make any assumptions about television audiences virtually impossible.

Lisa Parks points out that the term “Television 2.0” seems to assume that television is like a new version of software, upgraded to become more efficient and easier to use.[3] The term aptly describes television’s shift towards the Internet as it merges with another new version of software: Web 2.0. Television networks now stream their shows online and make them available for download on iTunes. Web syndicators, such as Hulu and Joost, aggregate commercially-produced shows from a host of networks and studios and present them with limited commercial interruption. All this makes the other assumption of Television 2.0 — that it is still television — much more complicated.

In addition to the Internet, consumers can now view The Office on iPods, portable DVD players, mobile phones, and handheld devices. One effect of this, as Max Dawson observes, is that content is “unbundled” so as to flow freely between screens and devices:

Digital distribution technologies have facilitated the rapid growth of an alternative ‘Itemized Economy’ of unbundled cultural goods, in which the primary unit of exchange is no longer the compact disc, the newspaper or magazine, or the television series, but rather the track, the article, the episode, or the scene.[4]

On the one hand, the unbundling of content means that consumers are no longer watching networks or channels — they are watching individual shows and episodes. This hurts the opportunity for networks to place shows performing poorly in the ratings next to more popular programs. At the same time, unbundled content is more shareable and spreadable, [5] meaning that a popular Saturday Night Live sketch on the Internet can be an immediate and effortless phenomenon. Many television executives see great potential in this regard. David Poltrack, Vice President for Research and Planning at CBS, explains:

And with network content in all these different places [distribution platforms] — especially video on demand over the Internet — we have to look to brand the network so that people know “that’s a CBS show”…I think network branding is going to reappear. This means more competition and better TV.[6]

Of course, it is unclear whether or not Television 2.0 will lead to “better TV,” but as new technologies afford consumers what Amanda Lotz calls the five C’s — choice, control, convenience, customization, and community— the need for branded, marketable content is undeniable.[7] As Michael Lebowitz, founder/CEO of Big Spaceship, observes, “people care about the content, not the network.”[8] Because consumers want their content to come in all types of formats and sizes, there is an increased need for networks to have a reliable and trustworthy reputation across media platforms. Consumers may be able to alter how they watch their television, but in the end, the networks still have complete control over the content produced. In addition, if a viewer enjoys a particular show on the Internet, they can more quickly locate its merchandise and be “just one click away” from consuming other media texts.

The prospect of more points of entry and accelerated consumption has led many television producers to change their discourse regarding the television business. Jeff Zucker, CEO of NBC Universal Television, notices that new technologies have forced television executives to rethink how they approach production:

What it really means is producers can no longer just come in with a TV show…It has to have an online component, a sell-through component and a wireless component. It’s the way we’re trying to do business on the content side, giving the consumer ways to watch their show however they want to watch it.[9]

In order to comply with consumer demands, many television producers are now calling themselves “content-producers,” a more appropriate label for the flow of programs across delivery platforms.[10] But as Ivan Askwith observes in his MIT master’s thesis Television 2.0: Reconceptualizing TV as an Engagement Medium, entering the content market means a huge increase in the potential competition:

In recognizing itself as a “content-production center,” NBC is acknowledging that it is now in the same business as — and thus in direct competition with — all content producers.  This effectively means that NBC’s competition is no longer limited to rival networks, but has expanded to encompass the likes of Google and Microsoft.[11]

The more competitive environment means that the networks of the “post-network era” must shift their distribution and business models to remain relevant industry players.     While many journalists have begun writing television’s obituary, [12] media scholars like Askwith are more optimistic. Askwith argues that if networks are willing to expand the scope and ambition of their business, they can benefit from a global audience. To accomplish this, Askwith highlights the importance for the television industry to understand engagement as a “larger system of material, emotional, intellectual, social, and psychological investments a viewer forms through their interactions with the expanded television text.”[13] Expanding a television text across platforms, he argues, should not function as a means to preserve television’s traditional business model, but should increase the possibilities for consumers to engage with television. In other words, by recognizing that they are in the “content” aggregation and distribution business, networks must be willing to view convergence not as a threat to television, but as an opportunity for Television 2.0.

[1] Ritchell, Matt. “What Convergence? TV’s Hesitant March to the Net.” The New York Times. 15 February 2009.
12 Kirkpatrick, David. “AOL Is Planning a Fast-Forward Answer to TiVo.” The New York Times. 10 March 2003.
[3] Parks, Lisa. “Flexible Microcasting: Gender, Generation, and Television-Internet Convergence. Television After TV: Essays on a Medium in Transition. Eds. Lynn Spigel and Jan Olsson. London: Duke University Press, 2004.
[4] Dawson, Max. “Little Players, Big Shows: Format, Narration, and Style on Television’s New Smaller Screens.” Convergence: The International Journal of Research into New Technologies. 13, 3 (2007): 239.
[5] Jenkins defines “spreadability” as “a concept [that] describes how the properties of the media environment, texts, audiences, and business models work together to enable easy and widespread circulation of mutually meaningful content within a networked culture.”
In “If It Doesn’t Spread, It’s Dead (Part One): Media Viruses and Memes.” Henryjenkins.org. 11 February 2009.
[6] Interview with Sharon Marie Ross on July 6th, 2006. In Beyond the Box: Television and the Internet. Oxford: Wiley-Blackwell Publishing, 2008.
[7] Lotz, Amanda. The Television Will Be Revolutionized. NY: New York University Press, 2007.
[8] Quoted by Ford, Sam. “Futures of Entertainment: Transmedia Properties.” Convergence Culture Consortium Weblog. 17 November 2006.
[9] Fisher, Ken. “NBC Universal chief calls for ‘Net-savvy TV pitches” Ars Technica. 13 March 2006.
[10] Askwith, Ivan. Television 2.0: Reconceptualizing TV as an Engagement Medium. Massachusetts Institute of Technology Master’s Thesis, 2007.
[11] Ibid, 17.
[12] Helm, Burt. “Why TV Will Never Be the Same.” Business Week. 23 November 2004.
[13] Askwith, Ivan. TV 2.0: Reconceptualizing Television

Many scholars and critics have noted that media ownership is controlled by an increasingly smaller number of mega-corporations.[1]  Viacom, Time Warner, NewsCorp, Clear Channel and Disney all include separate divisions for the development of TV shows, films, comics, and video games. Media conglomerates can retain a percentage of the profits from each branch, rather than having to outsource such components to a competitor. Due to this horizontal integration, the entertainment industry has a strong incentive to produce content that moves fluidly across media sectors. Justin Wyatt describes such marketable content in High Concept, arguing that the most lucrative franchises are those claiming a cast of stars, a distinctive style, and an easily digestible premise.[2] Star Wars might be the most powerful transmedia franchise, earning more than 22 billion dollars in 30 years.[3]

The domination of mainstream media outlets by corporate conglomerates makes maintaining and nurturing a franchise relatively easy. Media conglomerates attract diverse audiences into their franchise through various entry points — films, magazines, TV shows, news programs — and continue to barrage them with promotions in virtually every other medium. Despite their ubiquity however, traditional cross-promotions are becoming less effective. People are so bombarded with advertisements and sponsors that they are becoming more skilled at ignoring them.[4] As a result, many corporations have discovered that creating emotional attachment to a product yields more responsive and loyal consumers. As Henry Jenkins points out in his influential book Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide:

Franchise products are governed too much by economic logic and not enough by artistic vision. Hollywood acts as if it only has to provide more of the same, printing Star Trek (1966) logo on so many widgets. In reality, audiences want the new work to offer new insights and new experiences. If media conglomerates reward that demand, viewers will feel greater mastery and investment; deny it, and they stomp off in disgust.[5]

Indeed, fans are looking for deeper experiences in the stories they love. They crave more information about their favorite characters and events and are willing to go to great lengths to find it. As a result, Jenkins argues, “if each work offers fresh experiences, then a crossover market will expand the potential gross within any individual media.”[6] That is, an Alias fan may not be a video gamer, but they’d be more than willing to try Alias: Underground if the game contained valuable information to the story world. Simply barraging consumers with branding is not enough. The trick is to add something new and worthwhile to a franchise in order to facilitate an emotional connection with it.

Before going any further, it is important to understand the relationship between convergence and divergence because the two processes are inextricably linked. Derek Johnson argues that shows like Lost and Heroes disperse narrative information across media platforms in a process that is more like divergence than convergence.[7] Johnson sees “divergent narratives” as a more appropriate term to describe narratives extending not just through digital content, but also through newspapers, novels, magazines, and spaces of everyday life. Yet I tend to agree with Jenkins in that convergence and divergence are complementary, not opposing forces. Dispersing content across a wide range of delivery channels (divergence) ensures multiple points of entry into a single media franchise (convergence). Similarly, dispersing narrative information across a wide range of channels (divergence) encourages consumers to pull together all the information and form a unified story (convergence). Either way, technological convergence and divergence have huge implications for the television industry.

[1] Robert McChesney has argued that media ownership threatens our democracy. In Rich Media, Poor Democracy: Communication Politics in Dubious Times. Urbana, IL: University of Illinois Press, 1999.
[2] Wyatt, Justin. High Concept. Austin: University of Texas Press, 1994.
[3] It is unclear, of course, how much of this money goes to NewsCorp and how much goes to LucasFilm. Greenberg, Andy. “Star Wars’ Galactic Dollars.” Forbes.com. 24 May 2007. <http://www.forbes.com/2007/05/24/star-wars-revenues-tech-cx_ag_0524money.html>
[4] “Advertising the Digital Age.” Team Digital Company Blog. 13 March 2009. <http://promotions2.com/2009/new-rules-of-advertising-in-the-digital-age/>
[5] Jenkins, Henry. Convergence Culture: Where Old and New Media Collide. New York: New York Press, 2006. 105
[6] Jenkins, Henry. “Transmedia Storytelling.” MIT Technology Review. 15 January 2003.  <http://www.technologyreview.com/biomedicine/13052/page3/>
[7] Johnson, Derek. “The Fictional Institutions of Lost: World Building, Reality, and the Economic Possibilities of Narrative Divergence.” Reading Lost: Perspectives on a Hit Television Show. Ed. Roberta Pearson. London: IB Tauris, 2009. 27-51.