#creatingmagic

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Have you ever read a book with a magical system so captivating you almost believe it's real? That's where story physics comes into play. It's like everyday physics, but instead of dealing with gravity or quantum mechanics, the rules are for our fictional universes. The more consistent and logical the rules are, the easier it is for readers to suspend disbelief and get lost in a story. If you're dreaming up a world of your own, here's a quick guide on getting everything to line up smoothly for maximum reader immersion. 

Begin with the Basics

Foundation: Start by understanding the natural world's physics. It helps to know the rules before you bend or break them.

Consistency: Decide on the rules of your universe and stick to them. If magic drains energy in chapter one, it can't be consequence-free in chapter five.

Limitations: Every system, magical or not, should have its limits. This can create tension, obstacles, and more intricate plots.

A Dash of Reality:

Relatability: Even if your world is filled with flying pigs, there's gotta be something relatable. Maybe those pigs need sleep, or they're terrified of storms. Ground some aspects in reality.

Cause and Effect: If a character uses a spell, there should be a consequence. It can be as simple as being tired or as complex as altering the fabric of the universe.

Complexity and Depth:

Layers: Think of your magical system as an onion Peel back layers to reveal deeper secrets or complexities as the story progresses.

Evolution: Allow your system to grow and change. Just like technology advances, so can magical methods or tools.

Character Interaction:

Practicality: If magic or advanced technology exists, characters should use it daily, not just in dire situations.

Learning Curve: Characters shouldn't master the system overnight. Watching them struggle, learn, and adapt can be super engaging.

Stakes and Balance:

Consequences: Every action should have an equal and opposite reaction. If someone's saving the world with their powers, what are they sacrificing?

Power Checks: Ensure there's something to check or counteract powerful entities. Without a good reason, no one likes an invincible hero (or villain).

-Indigo

Organic Magic

Some magic systems just don’t make any sense. That doesn’t mean that they can’t be fun, it just means that the audience will frequently be reminded at how silly it all is. When this happens, it reminds the audience that this is “just a story,” and can effectively remove the reader from the tale. As the poet/critic Samuel Taylor Coleridge put it, the magic system violates the reader’s “suspension of disbelief.” Making better magic systems includes making it fit into the story seamlessly and naturally.

Let’s take a classic example: Dumbo. Disney specialized in creating magic systems that were often ludicrous simply to get a fun visual effect. I remember seeing Dumbo for the first time when I was about ten years old, and it really annoyed me. I kept looking at Dumbo’s ears and wondering, Is waggling those big ears really supposed to give that elephant enough thrust so that it can lift off the ground? I don’t think so!

Now, as a child of four, I might have thought the idea of a big-eared flying elephant was cool. I might even have wondered if it could really happen. I might have wished that I could ride a flying elephant. As an adult, I might have been delighted to see my own children enjoying the nonsense. But at ten I was just at the cusp of an age where I couldn’t figure out what to make of it and found myself “outside” the tale, watching it but not really being engaged.

Another magic system that bothered me as a child was Popeye the Sailor Man and his eating of spinach.

As a five-year-old, the magic system seemed to me to be designed to sell nasty canned spinach—as if it were the brainchild of an unusually foolish advertising exec. Now, if you’re creating a magic system for an animated film, and you’re looking just to create a visual spectacle, such a magic system might work fine. It can be lighthearted and fun.

But once in a while, a magic system comes along that somehow feels a bit more . . . realistic than others. It can subtly invite the reader to believe. To me, such magic systems feel more “organic.”

Indeed, I often find that the best magic systems have deeper meanings. They often serve as metaphors for life, and beg the reader to consider the tales they are in seriously.

I think that the first time that I really noticed one of these “organic magic systems” was in Frank Herbert’s Dune, where a powerful “spice,” an organic molecule created by giant alien worms, was found that stimulated a person’s prefrontal lobes so well that the person who inhaled the spice was given almost prescient powers.

The idea of spice worked well for me for one simple reason: There had been rumors of drugs that stimulated the imagination for centuries. In fact, Samuel Taylor Coleridge (mentioned above) wrote one of his most famous poems, “Kubla Khan” under the influence of opium.

Of course, in the 1960s and 1970s many artists experimented with drugs in an effort to increase their productivity and expand their imaginations. I’ve known authors who use alcohol, pot, meth, and LSD for such purposes. Even Frank Herbert is rumored to have written Dune under the influence of mind-altering drugs.

Just to be clear, I strongly warn authors not to try this. I’ve seen too many authors destroy their careers this way.

But my point is that the magic system in Dune suggested the idea that potent chemicals could be developed that might lead us to higher stages of consciousness. As a teen with an interest in medicine, I felt that that was worth thinking about. Magic systems that are based on principles that sound plausible feel somehow more “right” to me, and thus invite me to become more engaged.

Similarly, a magic system might invite us to consider the tale more seriously because it can act as a sort of magnifying glass that helps reveal the world as it is. For example, in a recent story by Andrew Peery called “Useless Magic,” found in L. Ron Hubbard Presents Writers of the Future, Volume 33, a magician lives in a world where his father, a powerful sorcerer, spends his time humiliating his children in an effort to get them to follow in his footsteps. The only problem is, the young man can’t. He has only one small magical ability, and it’s utterly worthless. In this story, we aren’t invited to wonder at a fantastically crafted magic system so much as to consider the far more human tale that unfolds between father and son.

So, when I’m crafting my own magic systems, I often like to look at the tale and ask myself questions like, “Does this magic system feel organic, as if it is an extension of some natural law?” and “What life lessons does this magnify?” or “Does the magic system invite me to engage in this story on an intellectual level?”

This is what I tried to do with my novel The Runelords,

I spent a year researching and considering various magic systems and didn’t really like any of them. I was interested in dealing with magic at an “economic” level, to consider the underlying morality of how we trade for goods and services, often with both parties trying to get the most possible from the other while offering little in return. I finally came up with a magic system that acted as a metaphor in the way that I hoped. When I wrote the novel, it sold millions of copies, but it wasn’t until it had been out for ten years and the world was going through a huge recession that I began to get fan mail from readers who said, “You know, as I was reading this, I realized that this isn’t fantasy at all: it’s about the real world!”

Yes, as a writer, that’s what I try to do: I search for magic systems that can help me say something about the real world.

It’s not the only way to work, but it’s one that I find fun.

-David Farland

No one is ever too good to stop learning, stop striving, stop pushing themselves to do better, to improve.

This goes for every area of your life, the more you practise, the better you will get. But you also have to wish to improve, to learn new skills and to listen to others, practicing on your own will keep you at the peek of your current ability, it won't help you to reach that next level or your full potential.

One of the reasons I, as a witch, have never felt the need to join a Tradition, is because I like to keep all my options open. I like to talk to different people, learn new ways of working and to find my own style that works for me.

That goes for anything, drawing, writing, crochet, knitting, dancing, playing music, singing, anything.

There is a certain pride that comes from being "self taught" but the reality is often that by being self taught you miss important steps that you need to know in order to have your work be the best it can be.

As a writer you can have a natural flair for words, yes, but you also need to take some lessons or at the very least read writing tips, learn the basics, get beta readers and learn to craft a good product.

With art you can have a natural flair but you still need to learn basic skills to start with and then more as you advance.

As a musician you could have a natural talent with music, but you still have to take lessons to learn how to play your instrument, how to read music and keep practicing daily.

By thinking you are too good to learn, by being big headed enough to think that you don't need help or an objective eye you are basically cheating yourself and your audience.

Harsh reality incoming, it doesn't matter how long you have been doing something, it doesn't matter how many years you have been practicing your music, writing your stories or drawing your pictures. None of that matters if you don't have the basic knowledge you need. Quantity does not equal quantity.

If you never use guides to constructing a face you can kid yourself that it's just your style and that you like to draw this same face over and over, and yes, you might get great at drawing that one face, but you'll still be making the same mistake.

If you don't learn proper story construction and writing rules you will just be repeating the same mistakes over and over, you'll be writing the same stories just jazzed up with a different name. If you don't learn how to write different characters or emotions you'll be writing the same type of two dimensional versions for the rest of your life.

I'm here to tell you today that there is no shame in asking for help, there is no shame in watching tutorials or reading tips or asking others for their opinions and to check your work, because you will not see the flaws in your work because you will become blind to them. This is the same principle as not editing your own work because you don't notice the mistakes as you know the story too well.

People can still be an amateur twenty years into their career if they haven't learnt to spot their mistakes and work on them.

So I'm putting this out there now, as someone who has done numerous writing classes, has been taught proper story construction, has learnt how to critique and edit writing work, as someone who has the super power of making any plot work. I am here for you.

Jump in my inbox, send me an ask if you don't want me to know who you are, if you have a question or just need some support and advice. I am here for that shit!!

I am here as someone who wrote a cringey first fic ten years ago, did ten years of character development in role play, who did four years of writing classes, has written 7 books and a far too much fan fic to be considered healthy in too short a space of time, I am here to help because I've been there, done that and made all the mistakes so I can help you see yours.

Never be afraid to reach out to other creative people, never be afraid to throw a drawing at someone and ask them how to fix that one bit that's pissing you off. Never be afraid to show a chapter or a plot that isn't working and ask for help and advice, because that shows you want to learn, that shows you want to get better. That shows you are human.