Brandon Sanderson's Rules of Magic

***BRANDON SANDERSON’S RULES OF MAGIC***

You’re probably wondering why I’m posting a blog entry about Brandon Sanderson when I haven’t read a single one of his books (yet). Well, it all began when I started seeing the author’s name plastered across many Good Reads forums and status updates. I had to check out what all of the hubbub was about, so I looked him up on Wikipedia. Not only is he a fantasy author with many accolades and publications to his name, but he came up with three rules for magic powers when writing stories. These rules were designed to cut down on Deus Ex Machina situations and present something that was believable to even the most skeptical audiences. Adam Blampied, a contributor to the pop culture website What Culture, once complained that magic didn’t have any boundaries and therefore created too many unseen variables and impossible situations for the heroes. He has a valid point, one that I’d like to answer with Brandon Sanderson’s three rules for magic:

1. An author’s ability to solve conflict satisfactorily with magic is directly proportional to how well the reader understands said magic.
2. Limitations are greater than powers.
3. Expand what you already have before adding something new.

When it comes to my own writing, I may have broken these three rules at least a dozen times, maybe two or three dozen. I haven’t had any complaints from my readers about Deus Ex Machina endings, but that doesn’t mean my magical stories didn’t have the potential for them.

For example, some of you may have read a short story I wrote called “Dark Fantasy Rock Goddess”, where a singer-songwriter named Autumn Smith hires a sorcerer mercenary named Bloodshark to be her bodyguard during a performance in a rowdy orc bar. Bloodshark has the ability to throw lightning, ice, and fire spells willy-nilly with as little or as much power as he wants, no exceptions. I never established limits on Bloodshark’s powers nor did I specify what they were until the battle scene. He ended up slaughtering the entire audience of that orc bar with his magical abilities alone. Because Autumn has no magic powers of her own, she’s helpless against Bloodshark and succumbs to his might. The point of the story wasn’t the magic itself; it was the twist at the end where Bloodshark reveals himself to be an obsessive fan who doesn’t take no for an answer from any of his female clients. That twist could have very well been my saving grace when it comes to avoiding Deus Ex Machina.

While I have a good track record for writing believable endings, it doesn’t mean I’m undefeated. I recently wrote a short story called “Burning Dragon”, where a humanoid dragon mercenary (man, I’m obsessed with mercenaries!) named Brock Soulburn is hired to retrieve a magical demon mask called Night Terror that originally belonged to a tribe of barbaric orcs (I’m also obsessed with orcs!). The mask comes to life and terrorizes Brock in the same way Bugs Bunny would terrorize Elmer Fudd: with silly cartoonish antics, of course. Brock gives up on his mission, but teams up with Night Terror to rip off the orc tribe of its gold. In the final moments of the story, Brock wears Night Terror like a real mask and suddenly his fire-breathing powers are more devastating than before and also include the ability to steal souls of everybody who gets torched. Again, there was no mention of these abilities before, but Edward Davies, a stalwart participant in the WSS contests, told me that he believed the ending because the situation reminded him of the Jim Carrey movie from the 90’s called “The Mask”. I’d trust Edward with my life, so I don’t have much of a reason to doubt his judgment. But there’s still that lingering threat of my readers crying Deus Ex Machina if they took a gander at “Burning Dragon”.

As I said at the beginning of this entry, I’ve never read a Brandon Sanderson book before, so I don’t have the benefit of absorbing his writing style and subconsciously applying it to my own writing. But if someone with his accolades says that Deus Ex Machina endings will kill a good story, you’d better believe every word. These kinds of endings used to be popular in ancient Greek theatre, but in modern times, they get scoffed at and rightfully so.

And while you’re establishing limits and rules for your story’s magic system, it’s important to remember that writing is designed to be invisible. Instead of explicitly listing these rules and limitations (which would be telling), sneak them in there through believable dialogue and little opportunities to use said magic (which would be showing). I do want to apply Brandon Sanderson’s logic to my writing, but it’s something I have to work on since authors are supposed to be stealthy when putting pen to paper. I’d like to think I’ve come a long way in the show vs. tell department ever since working with Marie Krepps. But make no mistake about it: stealthy writing takes lots of practice and you still might not get it right the first time. All authors struggle with showing instead of telling. All of them. Not some of them. Every last one of them, including my sensei herself, Marie, who openly admitted it to me one day.

If you have helpful tips to give to me or other authors as to how to stealthily establish limits in magical powers, don’t be shy about posting them. In the words of Red Green, I’m pulling for you; we’re all in this together.

***WEEKLY SHORT STORY CONTESTS AND COMPANY***

This past Saturday, I saw a concert at the Tacoma Dome where Shinedown was the second to last act to play onstage that night. The prompt for this week’s WSS contest is “Shine Down”. This coincidence couldn’t have been timed any better. The only way that could be any more awesome is if next week’s contest had a “Five Finger Death Punch” prompt. But for this week, my entry will be called “Soccer Sucks” (another school-themed story). It goes like this:

CHARACTERS:

1. Ben Troy, Sour Gym Student
2. Kira Lopez, Gym Teacher

PROMPT CONFORMITY: The soccer game takes place outside, where the sun will “shine down” upon the students and add to Ben’s crankiness due to the extreme heat.

SYNOPSIS: The one part about high school Ben dreads the most is physical education, particularly when they’re playing sports. He hates soccer the most and his anger shows on the field when he is (accidentally) struck with the ball and knocked to the ground several times. Ben blows off steam at his classmates before taking a permanent seat on the bench. Miss Lopez tries to talk him into getting back in the game, but after a series of false answers, Ben simply says, “The next guy who knocks me down is getting his ass kicked!”

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Q: Where do Seattlites go to scratch the paint off of parked cars?

A: The Key Arena.