Magic Systems I

Magic has always been interesting to me. On the one end, the whole draw of magic is that it can’t be explained. There’s no real-world counterpart or skill behind it. On the other hand, people get upset when stories use “magic!” to explain anything or conveniently resolve issues.

As such, even after years of writing, I’m still not sure which side I actually like. As a scientist, I’m more naturally drawn to creating a logical system behind my magic. But as an artist, I want the magic to be wonderful and feel otherworldly, which you destroy through rigid explanations.

All I know is that this is an important distinction.

Soft Magic vs Hard Magic.

Soft Magic means the rules are not really explained and magic is treated like some spiritual, otherworldly effect.

Hard Magic means the rules are entirely explained and magic is treated more like a science (but with different fundamental laws than our world).

Instead of picking one side, I think it’s more valuable to see it as a scale.

On the left, you have soft magic that represents a “sense of wonder”. On the right, you have hard magic that represents “puzzling or problem solving with magic”.

You have to decide where you sit on the scale. Does your story need more wonder and amazement? Or would it benefit from clear rules and creative problems characters need to solve with them?

For example, Harry Potter has a pretty wonky magic system. Many things are entirely unclear or entirely different from each other. But this aids the sense of wonder many felt as a kid (including me) about the magic. If Rowling had created strict rules and explained them all in book one, the magic school would have just felt like … school.

On the other hand, you have someone like Brandon Sanderson who writes (really) hard magic. He’s basically known for creating intricate magic systems that feel like a science, then writing stories around that. When I read my first book of his, I was blown away by how everything was explained and neatly fit together. About how I could predict future events or revelations by knowing these strict rules (and knowing he wouldn’t break them in the name of “magic!”)

So, both are valid. You just need to know which one you’re doing and stick to it.

Now let’s discuss two more related terms.

High Fantasy vs Low Fantasy

High Fantasy means the story has huge, world-ending stakes. It’s your typical good-versus-evil, your Lord of the Rings battle against the ultimate magical devil. (This is often called an “epic”.)

Low Fantasy means the stakes are much smaller. A wizard tries to defend his magical bakery. A witch struggles to pay her mortgage and starts doing hit jobs.

Again, both are valid, you just need to know which one you’re doing. If you promise your reader a high fantasy at the start, and then spend the rest of the novel in that one magical bakery, they will be very confused and disappointed.

High Magic vs Low Magic

High Magic means the magic is pervasive. It is everywhere, it’s used by many and for many things, it’s a crucial part of the whole story or world.

Low Magic means it’s a nice little add-on, but not more. It’s used sometimes. Some people can use it. It’s weak or only applicable to certain areas.

Consistency

As you see, you can pick whatever you want, as long as you’re consistent. A soft magic system doesn’t mean establishing random new rules every time because you’re allowed to break them; it simply means you never explain many rules and keep them vague on purpose.

Even so, audiences will implicitly assign (vague) rules as they progress through the story.

If you show a spell to work like X, multiple times, you can assume the audience picks up on that. Their head has stored the assumption: “that spell will do X” Even if you didn’t explicitly state that. It might do a number of things, and your story just happened to show only one of them!

But that’s the assumption you put in the head of your audience. Be wary of that. As you create magic systems, soft or hard, check if you’re adding unwanted assumptions. Remove those or break them as quickly as possible.

As before, it comes down to logical leaps. We’re prepared to make a logical leap to explain away “magic”. We want to suspend our disbelief and be drawn into this wondrous world. But if the leap is too large—the information presented too inconsistent—we can’t make it and the whole illusion breaks down.

In a sense, a good magic system has a leap of precisely the right size. It’s still magic—wonderful and fantastical—but there’s enough predictability that people can follow and even think ahead.

The biggest mistake

But the biggest mistake of all, is creating a magic system, but not actually using it!

You’ve invented rules, spells, magical artefacts, etcetera. You spend time explaining them and working them into your world.

But you never make them crucial to the characters or plot.

Maybe they use it once or twice, for some minor things. Maybe they only use it in one important battle. It’s not enough!

The truth is in the name: magic system. If you’re going to include a whole system to learn, then it should also have the significance and consequences of a system. It should be used regularly in the plot. It should naturally play a role in different parts of the world.

Pay off all the effort the reader (and you, the author) spent on learning and understanding this magic system.

My rule: tangible over thoughts

Humans are physical beings. We’re made to live in the physical world, to hold things in our hands, to fight and run and eat—all of that in the physical world.

As such, a pitfall of many magic systems is that they are too abstract. Maybe it all happens in a character’s head. Maybe it’s based on vague notions such as “believing in yourself” or “the power of love”.

Sure, you can do that. But remember the Pyramid of Abstraction? You need the little things to support the big things. You need concrete, often tangible, details to eventually convince the reader of the bigger picture.

That’s why I started attaching tangible and physical sources and costs to my magic.

Instead of people merely saying spells or thinking magic, do something tangible. Have part of their appearance change. Require them to hold a physical object to do so. Require them to be in a specific place or make a specific movement.

That’s perhaps the reason why Harry Potter uses wands: it’s more visual and engaging than if people just thought about a spell and it happened.

It’s also a great part of Avatar: The Last Airbender. To use their powers, they have to do specific moves (inspired by martial arts). This makes it far more interesting and realistic to look at a “magical” battle. In fact, as I watched that series, I rarely thought of it as magic. The practice was so physical and grounded, that my mind was just like “yup, that’s a skill you can train and do in the real world”.

Try this tip. You’ll quickly find creative ways to enhance your magic system and make it easier to understand for us mere humans. (And, if you care about such a thing, make it easier to create the story for a visual medium.)

Next chapter will dive into specific questions or properties to check when creating your magic system.