You designed a couple of buildings that weren't structurally sound and now it's coming back to haunt you. One is crumbling; the other collapsed, killing a dozen people. Uh-oh. Whatever happened to the guy who did Pisa?

You were hired by a middling architectural firm and make a decent living, but it's a small firm that hasn't yet made a name for itself. You sleep, perchance to dream of name recognition.

You work at a nice-sized firm—the company is gaining momentum and your work receives some recognition and praise. A few awards. A few honors. Reasonable peer respect...and not the kind that holds up the wharf you just designed, either.

You started your own firm and have grown it from just you and your secretary to thirty-five architects working for you, designing over two hundred homes a year. Business is so good, you even gave your secretary a raise.

You're an architectural superstar—you've designed major buildings in major cities and you're a household name. Beyonce and Jay-Z ask you to design their dream home.