Category: Blog Of Writing +1

The Magic Of Jefferson & The Magician's Curse

There must always be good and evil, yin and yang, reward and consequence. For the magicians in the world around Jefferson, all of these things exist, and most of them within the realm of magic to which he is bound.

Some may think I’ve written a story about a boy spell caster all thanks to J.K. Rowling, and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t read the books; but that is not the main reason I chose this story. I’ve always been obsessed with magic and fantasy since I was young. I grew up as quite the nerd and surrounded myself with video games, novels and even pen and paper games to appease the fantasy obsessed side of me. I enjoyed how Rowling wrote a world into the world we already exist in, but that wasn’t for me. No. I needed my fantasy. Not necessarily with dragons, but a fantasy world both like and unlike our own.

My obsession with magic came from asking questions about it, much like one may question the existence of God. What is magic? How does it work? What are the consequences? Can anyone do it? More and more questions poured out of me until I felt comfortable that I had answered the majority. After all, I absolutely hate holes in a story, and I wasn’t about to leave gaping ones with the primary plot device. That being said, a fresh pair of eyes from a practical person can poke holes when you didn’t think there were any left.

Magicians in Jefferson’s world are traditional in the sense of creating illusions. There is a group of them known as The Order and this order was founded by one magician who eventually becomes the tutor to our young protagonist. But the illusions are just a cover for the actual recruitment of new magicians into the order so they may gather their forces against the growing evil.

Magic itself is pure, untainted and neutral. It is an energy that can be tapped into and exists around the characters and within them. A good magician will call upon their own energy, but this in turn limits them; they cannot cast a spell more powerful than their own energy and if they do, they perish in doing so. Evil magicians use the same process but can draw from the pool of energy around them (living creatures, people, plants, etc.) which allows them a staggering amount of power, but they are also mentally bound to that being’s thoughts and emotions, which can drive a person mad. The other drawback is that an evil magician is then tainted and their heart turns black. The more evil magic that is used, the more that dark corruption spreads outward until their veins are branded black. Evil magic is extremely addictive as it empowers the user, as opposed to draining them from proper use.

Both good and evil magic have significant draws and sacrifices. A good magician may use all of their energy to heal someone who has been mortally wounded recently, but cannot bring back someone once decay has set in or destruction of the body has been too great. Evil magic can conjure powerful elemental effects and possess others, but this hastens the corruption and the madness that can set in. Also no staff or wand is required, but is considered to be a proper tool for focusing or channelling that power to a point. Finally good magic can be used to harm others, as in light them aflame, but only the initial flame can be cast. If it burns out, more energy must be consumed for it to be relit.

I think that covers the majority of it for now but what I’d like to know is if you have any questions or can see something I don’t? Feel free to email me or leave it in the comments! Thanks for reading, now back to editing for me!

A Happy Birthday To Me

As of yesterday I turned thirty. Another year has flown by and another is already blazing past. It feels like just the other day I was getting back from Canada and preparing for Christmas. Now I’m doing my best to not have some midlife crisis (especially since my Dad passed away at the age of forty eight) but I’m also not trying to crumble at the prospects of my store being down a manager for the next few months. But who wants to hear about such drama?

Not me, that’s for sure.

In writing, I am at this accursed editing phase which is the part that few writers tell you about. I will liken it to that friend who tells you having kids is some sort of higher calling and that your life is meaningless without them. Then once you’re there and the damn thing is spreading poop all over the walls of its room you realise, you’ve been duped.

Writing for me is absolutely beautiful. The conversion of imagination into reality is an incredibly addictive feeling. Meeting a character on your own pages and having them show you the world gives you a feeling I cannot describe.

Remember that kid drawing on the walls with poop?

That’s editing.

Editing is that absolutely bitter aftertaste from the joyous first sip of glory. The lower half of the mermaid. The side of the coin that lost you the bet. Rock, when you picked scissors. I could go on, but in short… editing is not fun.

So in my novel I have had some beautiful moments of clever writing, and character developments and interactions that made me grin and beam with pride. Then every once in awhile, a line or a paragraph stands out as if I’d been possessed by some Foreign Exchange Student who english is roughly his fifth language. Writing is all high, no lows. You soar with the eagles and dream among the gods.

Then editing tears you down and beats you with a bar of soap in a sock in the middle of the night.

Editing is rewarding don’t get me wrong, but I’m definitely sobering up to my own writing abilities. Especially as a writer who doesn’t drink coffee or tea. I am pretty sure the better part of chapter sixteen was written while I was asleep. Spell check can only do so much before you realise that all the words are spelled correctly, but the sentence itself makes less than no sense and sounds more like the spell from a witch’s tome.

The other problem is my mind keeps having fresh ideas while I am trying to edit. Back stories are getting fleshed out, new characters are appearing to offer more depth to the story and the world becomes less like the real one and closer to its own being.

Now if only I wasn’t so tired, maybe I’d be able to focus on more editing. Not sure how some people worked full time and managed to write a book of quality. My hat is off to those wonderful folks.

Wish me luck, and… happy birthday to myself!