From Edie: Want to write epic fantasy without overwhelming your readers? Discover why the biggest stories succeed because of simple, clear emotional journeys—and how keeping your core story focused makes your world unforgettable.
by A.C. Williams @ACW_Author
What is the last book you read? I just finished feasting among fantasy woodland creatures in the classic children's epic Redwall by Brian Jacques. Currently I am adventuring through epic battles, intricate cultures, and gorgeous setting details within an alternative ancient Celtic world thanks to Stephen Lawhead's brilliant work, The Paradise War. After I finish it, I may return to my all-encompassing journey through the extraordinary world of The Stormlight Archive by Brandon Sanderson. Next on my list is book three in the series, Oathbringer.
These are massive stories. Gigantic, enormous tomes requiring hours and hours to read and even longer to process. That makes them very complicated, right? Giant books like these are always complicated stories, right? Epic worlds, epic characters, epic plots all go hand in hand, don’t they?
Therein lies the greatest misconception in fiction. No, huge stories with enormous page count aren’t inherently complex. They have some elements of complexity, yes, but it probably isn’t in their plot lines.
The three books I listed may not be familiar to a broad audience. Frankly all three of them are something of an acquired taste, but one thing they have in common is length.
Redwall is 98,000 words, which is monstrous considering that it is technically written for middle grade readers.
The Paradise War is around 100,000 words, which is fairly standard size for fantasy these days. But it was first published in 1993.
Oathbringer, Stormlight Archive Book 3, is more than 454,000 words. No, not a typo. Yes, it’s ridiculous and excessive and extraordinary and even the paperbacks are big enough to be used as lethal weapons.
But what are these stories about? If you had to sum up the actual main storyline of each of these enormous works, what would you say?
Redwall tells the story of a young mouse named Matthias who embraces his destiny as a mighty warrior and learns the value of friendship and courage through love and loss.
The Paradise War (which I am still reading) tells the story of an Oxford academic who falls into an alternate reality Celtic-style world and must survive in a battle between good and evil.
Oathbringer … well, since I haven’t started it yet, who knows what it’s about. But the other books in the series have focused on three or four main characters who are learning what it means to stand up for the weak and the oppressed. The main character, Kaladin, is rediscovering what it means to be honorable.
Those are horribly vague summaries, but in every case you see the stories are about one main character (mostly) on a journey toward learning or discovering something. They encounter obstacles and challenges that force them to face what is true, and in the end, they are transformed into a better person than they were at the start. The obstacles change based on genre and world (i.e. Matthias the warrior mouse must defeat the mad sparrow king in battle, and Kaladin Stormblessed must do battle against Szeth-son-son-Valanno, the king's assassin, while they fly through the air and try to stab each other with semi-sentient magical swords), and the characters learn different lessons. But the shape of their journeys are all startlingly formulaic.
But aren't formulas bad? Don't formulas destroy and inhibit creativity? Aren't formulas responsible for boring stories?
Don't mistake basic story structure for lifeless formulaic tropes. Utilizing one well requires mastery of the other first.
Familiar formulas are everywhere in fiction because they work. That doesn't mean you can “plug and play" and turn your brain and your creativity off. That's not how great stories work. A journey has a beginning, a middle, and an end. Emotional journeys work the same way.
These stories are about emotional journeys, simple truths that resonate with average readers. This is vital to writing epic fiction because the human mind can only process so many things at once. If you try to write a complex story with complex character journeys and a complex world, you won't just confuse yourself. You'll confuse your readers. And a confused reader stops reading.
If you want to write epic stories, start small. Begin with a simple, emotionally resonant idea. Lean into universal truth. Family. Friendship. Safety. Belonging. Bravery. Honor. Forgiveness. Achieving a dream. Being loved or seen or acknowledged. Stories that are about these things strike a chord with readers in every genre.
Don't worry about your protagonist’s deep, dark backstory yet. Don't focus on your antagonist’s shocking revelation yet. Don't even obsess about the color of your fantasy world’s sky or what hydroponic tangerines taste like on Mars.
The best, deepest stories are simple ones, where the point (the truth) can shine clearly, where the characters and the world work together to support the story rather than distracting from it.
Clear, simple stories open the door for epic worlds and complicated characters.
What do you want your story to say? How will you summarize what your story is about when someone asks you? Start there. Keep it simple. Don’t aim for complicated. Aim for clarity.
Your characters (and your readers) will thank you.
TWEETABLE
A.C. Williams, also known as Amy C. Williams, is a coffee-drinking, sushi-eating, story-telling nerd who loves cats, country living, and all things Japanese. Author of more than 20 books, she keeps her fiction readers laughing with wildly imaginative adventures about samurai superheroes, clumsy church secretaries, and goofy malfunctioning androids; her non-fiction readers just laugh at her and the hysterical life experiences she’s survived. If that’s your cup of tea (or coffee), join the fun at WWW.AMYCWILLIAMS.COM.


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