Editorial Piece: Writing Using Fantasy
- Jordyn Mastroff
- Jul 20, 2025
- 3 min read
What It Entails, And How to Do It Well
By Jordyn Mastroff
Fantasy is not escapism. Not really.
At its best, fantasy is truth in a mirror of stars: twisted, gilded, or shattered, but truth all the same. It is the language of metaphor, of what could be, what never was, and what should have been. It is magic and monster and myth, yes, but it is also grief, identity, resistance, healing. Fantasy is where we tell stories that are too big, too strange, or too sacred for the confines of realism.
To write fantasy well is to walk a tightrope between wonder and weight.
Here’s what that actually entails.
✦ You’re Not Just Building a World, You’re Building a Lens
Worldbuilding is often treated as the crown jewel of fantasy writing, and rightly so. Done well, it creates a living, breathing backdrop, one that feels as real as any history textbook, sometimes more so.
But a good fantasy world is more than names, maps, and magic systems. It’s not just where your story happens, it’s how it happens. Every law of nature you bend, every hierarchy you craft, every god you invent becomes a lens through which your characters see themselves and the world around them.
Ask yourself not only what your world looks like, but how it feels to live in it. Who gets to write the rules? Who breaks them? What does power look like here? What does love look like?
Details matter, but intention matters more.
✦ Magic Is a Mirror
Magic is not an accessory. It is not glitter sprinkled on a plot that could stand without it. If it can be removed from the story without altering its soul, it’s not real fantasy, it’s decoration.
Good magic is metaphor. It reflects something about your characters or themes. It represents a truth, an imbalance, a wound. In The Broken Earth trilogy by N.K. Jemisin, magic is about oppression and rage. In The Name of the Wind by Patrick Rothfuss, it’s about control and understanding; of language, of the self, of reality.
Ask yourself what your magic means, not just what it does.
✦ Characters First, Always
It’s easy to get caught in the glitter of lore, but people don’t fall in love with your maps. They fall in love with your characters.
A fantasy story lives and dies on the choices of its cast. Whether they wield swords or spells, whether they ride dragons or run taverns. What matters is who they are and why they care.
Ground them in human emotion. Give them contradictions. Let them fail. The more outlandish your world, the more vital it is that your characters feel real. Let the readers taste their fear, ache with their regrets, laugh with their joy. That’s what will make your world matter.
✦ Subvert the Trope, Don’t Just Paint It Prettier
Fantasy is full of tropes for a reason: they’re powerful. But they become lazy when left unexamined.
The chosen one. The dark lord. The ancient prophecy. The noble elves. The monstrous orcs.
These aren’t bad in and of themselves, but ask: who benefits from this trope? Whose story is being told? Whose isn’t?
Don’t fall into the trap of aesthetic mimicry. Just because something feels fantasy doesn’t mean it’s meaningful. Subvert expectations when you can, interrogate tradition when it matters, and most of all, make it your own.
✦ Make Room for the Small
Epic battles and vast empires are thrilling, but don’t underestimate the quiet moments.
Fantasy has room for the mundane. A witch tending her garden. A prince braiding his sister’s hair before war. A vampire remembering the name of someone he buried centuries ago.
These moments root your story in humanity. They breathe life into the extraordinary. A good fantasy tale should give readers dragons to dream of, but also hands to hold.
✦ The Heart of It All: Why Fantasy Matters
We don’t write fantasy just to escape the world.
We write it to understand the world.
Fantasy gives us the tools to ask impossible questions in impossible ways. What does justice look like if no one dies? What happens to love when time is irrelevant? What if power were bound to pain? What would the world be if we started over?
Fantasy lets us imagine better realities, or confront the horrors of our own. It’s where the exiled find homes. It’s where monsters become heroes. It’s where the invisible finally get to speak.
To write fantasy is to believe in the unseen. To say, again and again, that something else is possible.
And in a world like this one, that might be the most radical thing you can do.



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