Imagine, for a moment, the tale of Johnny Protagonist. Johnny is the son of a great martial artist, and is determined to uphold his father’s legacy. With a grand tournament approaching, Johnny sees his chance for glory at last, and trains hard to perfect the skills his father once instilled in him. In round after round, Johnny demonstrates cunning and courage, deftly defeating his opponents with one after another of his father’s legendary techniques. At last, Johnny reaches the final round, and faces off with the student of his father’s old rival. At this point, Johnny pulls a pointy hat out of his gi, says “I was actually a wizard this whole time,” and turns his opponent into a newt.
In your mind, does Johnny’s tale qualify as a satisfying story? If expanded to the length of a novel or television series, would you feel like Johnny’s wizard reveal was a meaningful payoff for the time you’ve invested in this character, and the challenges you’ve seen them overcome? Do you feel satisfied by that relationship between exertion and result, and are you sufficiently hooked on Johnny’s world to wish to follow his continuing adventures?
Buckle up, folks. Today we’re talking narrative and consequence.