Audiences and readers do not go to a storyteller to learn yet again what they already know. They go in hope of discovering a world they’ve never seen before. Like an explorer, they want to part the leaves and discover a time, place and culture they don’t know and could never experience in their own lives—in short, they want the delight of learning.*
The world as we have created it is a process of our thinking. It cannot be changed without changing our thinking.**
We need to make ourselves available to possibility.
In The Incredibles, the little boy on his trike is there when Mr Incredible slips on a skateboard, scrunches the door jamb on his car so the door won’t close, loses his temper and lifts his car up above his head.
The next day, the little boy is there, waiting:
Well, what are you waiting for?
I don’t know … something amazing, I guess.
The thing is, this little boy has abilities adults have forgotten they have: wonder, curiosity, imagination, playfulness. Rather than waiting for something to happen, children can make something happen, albeit small things … and sometimes, with the power of the internet and others, really big things.
Yes, we need to turn up and make ourselves available to possibility, but instead of waiting for something to happen, we have long forgotten or developing abilities that we can employ in our creation of wonder and delight. Robert McKee adds a second reason audiences go to a storyteller to discover something new:
As the story-goer explores a new setting and a new cast, she seeks the second pleasure: A discovery of herself. She gazes into principal characters with the hope of finding a shared humanity.*
Martin Amor and Alex Pellew are making the point that it’s how we think that makes the difference, including how we think about ourselves.