I did an interview recently and was asked about my inspiration to write stories when the world is a dumpster fire around us.
The next night, I listened to a podcast episode by author K.M. Weiland where she said, “Writers are cultural architects. Stories do more than reflect reality; they create it.”
As someone who teaches writers how to structure their novels and is considering shifting into the fantasy genre myself, I was pretty shocked to have my own call to adventure tell me to write something real. I was even more shocked that I didn’t see this as the answer all along.
I have many identities within my author career. I am a contemporary romance writer. I am an editor. I am recently a podcast content creator. But every time I don a new hat, I do so by constantly avoiding what the fourth grade version of myself had once dreamed about: writing a fantasy novel.
I’m not sure why the extreme level of procrastination. (Seriously, the list of things I have done over the years to avoid writing this book is lengthy… ask the thrifted furniture I started flipping as a side project.) I used to tell myself (and still do) that I had a lot to learn (which was true) but at some point you don’t learn how to swim by reading about it. You learn by getting in the damn pool, no floaties.
That’s what it’s been like trying to write a fantasy book for me. I’ve been waiting for a sign or a signal or something that flashed with neon lights that said OKAY NOW! YOU ARE READY! GO FORTH AND WRITE! However, I’d be lying if I didn’t hear a little voice calling to me louder and louder these days to join the cultural conversation that’s taking place surrounding the craze of romantasy, dark fantastical worlds, and the resurgence of dystopia on the horizon.
People have something to say.
Specifically writers, but the audience that is consuming this rapidly produced “trendy” content isn’t quiet about it.They want more. But why are they so hungry to be fed with hot fae warriors and dragons and sex and corrupt governments that can only be righted from their wrongs by chosen one teenagers or kids in their early twenties?
The answer to me is in two parts.
1. Escapism.
Because who doesn’t love a forbidden romance with a 500 year age gap relationship? (Cue: the who did this to you trope.)
I’m only partially kidding. We read the surface of these stories for their promise of their premise: an ulterior reality or fantasy world that provides an escapism from our aforementioned dumpster fire. In a world where we wonder how we’ve gotten here as a society, pointing fingers at everyone else but ourselves, it’s nice to imagine a place where magic exists and happy endings can be won in the name of an agreed upon greater good.
But in reality, which side is good and which side is bad?
And perhaps an even better question, who gets to decide?
In fiction, a usual villain does “bad” things. A better villain does bad things and genuinely believes they are good. (I’m thinking of Thanos… I just finished watching the MCU.) I think we are drawn to these characters because they reflect reality. While there may not be a clean cut good and evil, there certainly is power in who gets to tell the story.
THERE IS POWER IN POINT OF VIEW.
We see it in fiction. When you are reading a novel, the reader has no choice other than to believe the narrator because we see the story through their eyes, their mind, and their voice.
Their opinions become our opinions.
This is what stories are to our society. They are the vehicle with which the consumer either consciously or subconsciously is fed an outlook or an idea. And the storyteller is the narrator who, under the guise of entertaining, is the driver behind the wheel carrying conversations on themes that transcend the dragon rider’s war college or the king’s champion tournament.
Which brings us to the second reason why readers are voraciously lapping up stories like these modern “hits” that trend on BookTok and romance bookstores.
2. Fantasy can be used as social commentary.
Take Rebecca Yarros and her Empyrean series. Yarros says, “Fourth Wing I wrote in direct criticism of us erasing slavery from our history books.” The novel also deals with the threat of censorship (banned books anyone?)
I just finished reading Ariel Sullivan’s Conform, set in a post-apocalyptic world where society is ruled by an advanced group that monitors the population’s health and mandates procreation contracts. At the beginning of the book, the FMC is seen in her place of work where she “spends her days alone, sorting ancient art for destruction.” These fictionalized attempts to destroy art, literature, and history are evidence of the power that artists and storytellers can hold.
Stories shape us. Art changes us.
It’s not just expression; it’s responsibility.
Therefore the role of the artist is of vital importance on how consumers and viewers are led to interpret the world around them. There is some truth in this regard to learning by proxy. Similar to how I “add to cart” when I see an influencer post about the latest skin care routine, the problems showcased in fantasy worlds have the ability to make us look at our own, and look at ourselves.
Which is precisely what that question in the interview made me do– look at myself and the loose outline of a fantasy novel that has been collecting dust in my notes app on my phone. And the missing link I had in all caps at the bottom: WHY??
Last summer, I started three chapters of a potential fantasy story. And shelved it because while I had a complex magic system, a steampunk biker gang cast of characters, and a random cruiseship inspired scene that still didn’t make sense for the plot line, I had been writing blind because I didn’t know WHY this story needed to be told.
I listened to another podcast where someone asked what makes a fantasy novel a hit in terms of commericialism and marketability. While the magic systems, high stakes tension, and vivid world building are all important factors, what author and editor Jon Negroni discussed was the need for something both “fresh and familiar.” A blockbuster type hit needs to be unique and relatable. Which means, it needs universal themes and a strong emotional core.
Cue: my very own dumspter as inspiration.
Fantasy, romantasy, and dystopia are more than magic, sex appeal, and chosen ones. They are the genres with the ability to cloak modern world issues under a veil that entertains and enthralls while subliminally screaming warnings of what might happen if we let it burn.
It is responsibility of the storyteller to use their power to write the warnings and keep the hard conversations alive.
And once I picked a few things off the list of what was burning in my dumpster, the why behind my fantasy novel came easily.
Everything is intentional. Our words have power to paint pictures and if a picture has the power to elicit an emotional response, imagine what a manuscript can do.
Especially if the wingspan is big enough.
Sources:
Meg Rosenthal 
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