So, you want to write a fantasy novel. Excellent choice. Why write a sensible modern drama about divorce and parking permits when you could create dragons, cursed kings, suspicious forests, and a wizard who smells faintly of onions?
Writing fantasy from scratch may seem overwhelming, but fear not. Many great worlds began with nothing more than one strange idea and someone avoiding real work.
Step One: Start With a Brilliant “What If?”
Every fantasy novel begins with a question.
What if magic were illegal?What if the moon were an egg?What if the chosen one was deeply unqualified? (Think Willow Summer, in The Girl From Modern). What if a sword talked far too much?
Pick an idea that makes you curious. If it makes you grin, worry, or immediately invent three sequels, you’re onto something.
Step Two: Build a World That Feels Real-ish
You do not need to invent seventeen languages, six religions, and the tax code of the eastern marshlands. Chill out. But you do need enough detail to make readers believe your world exists beyond the page.
Ask yourself:
- Who rules this place?
- What do people eat?
- What are they afraid of?
- Why is that tower screaming?
Mountains create borders. Forests hide monsters. Taverns contain gossip, thieves, and at least one man named Gregor with a scar.
The trick is not endless detail. The trick is believable detail.
Step Three: Add Magic, But Make It Annoying
Magic without limits ruins things faster than a dragon in a bakery.
If wizards can do anything at any time, why is anyone worried? Why walk anywhere? Why have doors?
Good magic has rules and consequences.
Maybe spells cost memories. Maybe they age the caster ten years. Maybe every fireball summons a goose.
The harder the magic is to use, the more interesting it becomes.
Step Four: Create Characters With Problems
Readers do not fall in love with maps. They fall in love with people.
Your hero should want something badly:
- Revenge
- Freedom
- Treasure
- A nap
Give them flaws too. Pride, cowardice, stubbornness, or a tendency to lick mysterious artefacts.
Then give them enemies. Preferably clever ones. A villain who thinks they are saving the world is far scarier than one who just hisses dramatically in a cloak.
Step Five: Break Everything
Now make life difficult for your characters.
Burn the village. Steal the crown. Wake the ancient evil. Cancel the prophecy.
Every chapter should make things worse, stranger, or more expensive.
If your hero is comfortable, you are being too kind.
Step Six: Finish the First Draft, You Beautiful Goblin
Your first draft will be messy. It may contain plot holes, confusing names, and three characters called Thom. That's normal. Don't spend six months perfecting chapter one while chapter two remains a rumour. Keep going. Momentum matters more than elegance. You cannot edit a blank page, but you can absolutely edit a terrible one.
Step Seven: Revise Like a Merciless Sorcerer
Cut boring scenes. Sharpen dialogue. Fix pacing. Rename Thom Two.
Ask of every chapter:
- Does something happen?
- Do we learn something?
- Does anyone suffer?
If not, it goes into the volcano.
Final Wisdom
Fantasy is not really about swords, elves, or dramatic capes. It's about power, fear, hope, sacrifice, and wonder. So begin. One character. One problem. One impossible choice.
Then ruin their life magnificently.