Should I write magic? A reflection on the problems with magic existing in a fictional world.

Considerations for Fiction Writers – A Blog Series

Writing magic into a fictional world can kill the tension and destroy the narrative. Should I stay away from crafting magic? Is there a way for it to work?

The other day, I was playing a game of pretend with my seven-year-old daughter and her plush unicorn, Poof-poof, was poisoned, so we needed a healing jewel. To get one, we would need to cross a pit of lava, find a hidden cave door and fight a dragon. We were ready to risk our lives to save our kind friend and my daughter said, “Actually I have magic and I can make the healing jewel appear in my hand.” She retrieved the ring pop from the top of her dresser and waved the candy ruby over Poof-Poof, neutralizing the poison. But I was looking forward to stepping from cushion to cushion down the hallway, finding the secret door and fighting an imaginary dragon. Magic sucks.

I’m a fiction writer who needs to have some kind of fantasy in my novels. It could be a futuristic world with incredible technology. It could be a universe with paranormal lore or it could be a Tolkienesque fantasy. I find fantasy to be a useful medium to explore ideas. I like to stretch my creative abilities and create entire worlds. But there’s inherent problems with magic existing in a fictional universe.

What is magic? Magic is the ability to solve a problem with something as simple as a spoken word, so it’s basically an easy way out. Us fiction writers know a story needs conflict in order to be interesting. Conflict is created by giving a protagonist an urgent reason to overcome an obstacle and the protagonist must struggle to overcome whatever-it-is for there to be tension. If overcoming an obstacle is as easy as waving a wand, then the tension instantly dies.

In my own fiction, I try to solve this problem by including rules or restrictions for my magic. I give my characters something difficult to do in order for the magic to work. But how do we stick to the rules and how do we resist the temptation to solve everything with a magic spell.

I’ve always found the film, Wizard of Oz, a bit annoying (1.). Dorothy is told that she must travel down the treacherous yellow brick road to persuade a scary wizard to help her get home. Dorothy is given excellent obstacles to overcome and it makes a great story. Dorothy goes so far as to kill the wicked witch of the east to steal her broom, but in the end the wizard is useless and can’t get Dorothy home. So that means everything she went through to persuade the wizard was for nothing. Then Glinda the good witch, suddenly appears and tells Dorothy her red shoes, the shoes she was wearing the entire time, can magically take her home. Suddenly, the journey down the yellow brick road and Dorothy’s efforts in persuading the wizard are rendered completely unnecessary. There wasn’t anything Dorothy needed to do in order to get home. Her problems could be solved by clicking her heels together. This is an example of how careless crafting of magic can destroy an entire narrative.

If you haven’t watched the TV series, Sweet Tooth, and you don’t want it spoiled, I recommend skipping this and the next paragraph (2.). Sweet Tooth started out rooted in a scientific world. The viewers were persuaded the secrets behind the existence of a virus and hybrid children was going to be based in science. Then, in season three, the secret suddenly has nothing to do with science, but with magic. I wondered if the writers couldn’t come up with a good scientific story-line and that’s why they gave up on it. If a writer switches to magic, they can make whatever rules they want and there’s more creative freedom. But it’s not as interesting because the rules can feel arbitrary, unlike scientific laws, which are unchangeable. So suddenly the Sweet Tooth narrative becomes wishy washy. I accepted the one-eighty to magic, but hoped for interesting magic lore.

Viewers learn that the hybrids and virus come from an injured magic tree. The logic is the tree has feelings, someone chopped into its trunk, it got mad, so it cursed humanity. The final showdown begins with the good characters insisting no one hurt the tree. Then someone removes an ax from the tree, which should be good right? Wrong. It releases a kill-everyone-on-the-planet-in-an-instant virus. The hero hybrid somehow guesses that setting the tree on fire will stop everyone from dying. This is illogical, because we were already told that hurting the tree is bad, so how can killing the tree cure everyone? For the viewer it feels like the swish of a magic wand, solving everything. There was nothing the hero had to overcome in order to stop the virus. There was no sleuthing he needed to do in order to discover the solution. There was no explanation, so it feels completely random. Sweet tooth’s answer felt unsupported and illogical, thus dissatisfied the viewer.

There are a lot of stories, novels, movies and TV shows that change the rules of their universe to make things easier. I’m thinking of the Fantastic Beasts film series and how suddenly the Potterverse wizards and witches don’t need to say spells anymore to perform magic (3.). Such a decision should be done with care because if the protagonist loses the effort involved in casting a spell, there really is no story there. What’s the point in having an obstacle at all, if you can overcome it so easily?

I write dystopian novels, so I have some magic-like technology and I use it as a magic wand at times. A character has every bone in their body crushed. No problem. There’s bone-heal serum. A character is getting shot at? No problem. They have an electronic body shield. A person is decapitated. No problem. Just put them in a healing chamber. The worst, however, is when I crafted genetically designed psychics. My psychics can read minds and force people do things.

I’ve had a very hard time defining degrees of psychic power, and I think a lot of fantasy writers have similar problems and that’s why our magic rules inevitably get broken. I instantly struggled with who should be able to overpower who and why. If my psychic-protagonist is too powerful they’re like a living magic wand and if my psychic-villain is too powerful, they’re impossible to defeat. How do psychics overpower one another anyway? By staring at each other real hard and pushing thoughts at each other? It’s a total disaster! But alas, my psychics are here to stay, so I have to sort it out.

It’s very hard to write a psychic protagonist because if they can force an enemy to do things, they never struggle. For example, an enemy soldier is going to shoot my protagonist. My protagonist tells them not to and the soldier doesn’t. My protagonist needs to get into a top secret storage facility. They command a security guard to get them inside and it’s done. My protagonist needs more money. They tell their boss to give them a promotion and it’s done.

Then there’s the fact I have characters who are experts in martial arts. If a psychic can force an enemy to surrender, how exactly do my fighter-characters contribute? I try to solve such problems by making some people difficult to control, but because I’m choosing who can be controlled and who can’t, it feels a bit convenient. I can almost hear my readers thinking, You just made it so that psychic can’t control that person so something can actually happen in your story

Should I write magic? No! It destroys narratives and murders tension.

But magic is fun, so let’s face it, I’m going to do it anyways.

I’ll probably always have some sort of magic in my novels, but I’ve realized I have to be more careful in choosing the type of magic I include. The easier it is to make different levels of power, rules and restrictions, the better. I need to consider who my magical character will be battling and how they will overcome them. And I can’t craft a character so powerful it renders all their friends useless. I recommend sparing yourselves the frustration of including psychics who can force people to do things. Keep the magic to a minimum, so that most obstacles can be overcome in other ways and never toss a magic wand into your climax. Folks, it’s a total a cop-out.

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