Why I write fantasy

Morning was leaving and the world began to wake from its grogginess. Birds crisscrossed the sky, their chirruping interrupted by a passing dragon. The sun’s rays danced upon its black skin, reflecting in a rainbow of colours.

Above is an excerpt from the story I am currently focusing on. Like most of the stories I’m writing, this one contains magical beings; dragons, shapeshifters, monsters and some of my own creations. The presence of creatures and magic is what sets fantasy apart from other genres. That is one reason why I chose fantasy.

When I was little I listened to my mother read stories with talking foxes and rabbits with clothes, who lead very human lives. I loved animals, in the stories and in the real world; henceforth I wanted to write stories with human-like animals and creatures. There are few genres which allow me non-human characters: horror, children’s stories and fantasy. I haven’t entirely forsaken the other two, but the themes of my stories often require the character to go through hardships and emotional turmoil that has no place in a small child’s story. As for horror, I’m too squeamish.

The other aspect of fantasy that drew me in is magic, the power to shape reality. Magic allows dragons to breathe fire, shapeshifters to alter their appearance and some humans to wield the elements to a degree. It also allows for magical mishaps such as pink, polka dot shrew with butterfly antennas. It also raises the obstacles the protagonist must face; demons, evil gods, monsters and other dark things that exist only in the depths of our nightmares. As a writer I long to wield these elements into something awe inspiring, opening the reader a door into a new world.

Which brings me to the third reason, the worlds. I have much more freedom in creating the stage of my story. With the aid of magic the inhabitants can build huge castles and other constructions that defy the laws of nature. There can be places where to reach to the sprits with a word, and old dark halls guarded by creatures whose stare or bite will turn the unwary traveller to stone. The imagination is the only limit.

As well as writing, I draw. I love drawing strange and exotic places such as ice causeways, fiery pits and dark tunnels infested with demons. I also love describing those places, never mind a picture says more than a thousand words, I can instil the feel of the place in the readers mind, describe the deep, raspy breaths of a monster lurking in the shadow and how the cold seeps beneath the skin. Or the sun’s rays, warmly caressing the face of the character standing in the picture, his elation at the prospect of returning home.

I feel like home when I enter a bookstore or library, surrounded by friends. When I pick up a book I sometimes hold my breath as I read the back of the book to learn some of its secrets and decide whether to carry it home with me. When I read, I travel to another realm of reality and learn of human nature.

Emilia Quill