On Storytelling As much as we tend to ascribe "genius" to those among us we deem as excellent storytellers, it's precisely this that makes a good story: that a number of people latch onto it. I'm presently reading a book about this, though I'm not far enough into it to bring it to the table. There is a formula for storytelling, and it works again and again, but it's always the response of the readership that makes it what it is, and any "genius" is really either an accident or an innate talent for manipulating others.
Storytelling, much like music, much like painting, is a tool for drawing out emotions, good or bad. It's more often purely about feeling than thinking, and even when it's about thinking, it plays on feelings.
We are, for whatever reason, deeply dissatisfied in our lives without heroes and monsters, without comedy and tragedy, without mysteries to solve or enemies to vanquish, princesses (or princes for the PC police) to save, and we seek these either in fables or in reality. Where it doesn't exist we create it. A "good story", as far as I can tell, is one that accomplishes any combination of these constituents while simultaneously generating a sense in its reader or listener that they're participating in some way.