Writing

Why I Chose to Write Fantasy

Image from Pixabay

I have always enjoyed fantasy more than most other genres. I read the entire “Harry Potter” series in my early teens. In fact, at that time, it was the only thing I would read for pleasure.

I have always been attracted to magic, fantastical elements, and supernatural ideas, for as long as I can remember. I am a highly imaginative person who likes to create and brainstorm.

The idea of my book’s main character dates back to when I was in elementary school. Then she returned to my mind in my adolescence and I developed everything about her from there.

One thing about fantasy is that you can have more freedom with your stories since there is worldbuilding involved as well as other enchanted elements. Of course, the literary devices should still be believable and make sense.

When I first published the sequel of my “Magical Missions” series in 2016 as “Wizardry Goes Wild,” there were still a lot of flaws, including with credibility. One struggle involved having my characters react to magic in a believable way. 

After pulling the original edition from the market and fixing the issues, I decided on a change. Instead of trying to get the characters to react to extreme situations more credibly, since I still had trouble with it, I made certain situations milder, as long as they didn’t need to be severe. For example, there is a scene with a magical robotic bee. But that was originally a fake shark that functioned like a real one.

Basically, I just love fantasy and being very creative, which is why I like to write in that genre. I probably wouldn’t try horror or science-fiction, though. Horror scares me and science involves more research as well as math. Yet, with fantasy, I have more freedom along with fun.

fiction

The Difficult Decision: A Flash Fiction Piece

My energy arose as I thought about my friend, Kylie’s, birthday party happening in two days. Kylie and I had been friends since first grade. I had just completed my freshman year of college, so I looked forward to seeing Kylie after a year.

            But I received a text message from my college friend, Astrid. I read it.

            Lila, my mom just lost her battle with breast cancer. Her funeral is this Saturday.

            Pain shocked my body and my jaw lowered. I responded.

            Oh, no, I’m so sorry to hear.

            The door to the house opened. My mom entered, dragging her feet and lacking energy.

            “Mom, are you all right?” I asked.

            “Lila, did you hear what happened to Mrs. Jackson?”

            I paused for a few seconds. “Astrid’s mom?”

            “Yes.” My mother sat. “Her mom and my mom used to be roommates in college, too.”

            I hesitated and then said, “Why didn’t you ever tell me this?”

            “I…I lost touch with her until you met Astrid.”

            My phone sounded another text alert. I checked it. It came from…Kylie.

            So excited for Saturday. Can’t wait to see you.

            I stared at the communication, but did not respond. Kylie’s birthday party and Mrs. Jackson’s funeral fell on the same day.

            I had attended my grandpa’s funeral two years ago, and I’d had a tough time. I missed him, but I hadn’t cried over his death once…not even after hearing about his passing from my mother.

            While other people had wept at his funeral, I had just stood, bored for hours until the speeches had begun.

            I had hoped not to attend any more funerals since. I recall how the time at the funeral home had dragged and I’d been there for hours with my family.

            Aside from that, I had not seen Kylie since graduation from high school. Her party would start at three P.M. So, maybe I could attend the funeral and then leave for the birthday event. But wait—would that offend Astrid? I had a feeling that it might.

            “Lila, we should go to the funeral this Saturday,” my mom said.

            “How long will it last?”

            My mother gave me a sharp look.

            “Well, I’ve got Kylie’s birthday party at three.”

            “Lila, I think you should skip the party and stay at the funeral.”

            My mouth opened.

            “I get it—we’d all rather go to birthday parties than funerals. But frankly, you’re more friendly with Astrid than Kylie now. Plus, going to the funeral shows that you care and you’re willing to give your condolences. I think it would be more polite if you go to the funeral instead.”

            I sighed and texted Kylie.

            Hey, I can’t go to your party. I’ve got to go to a funeral.

            I sent it. A few seconds later, Kylie responded.

            Oh, ok. I understand. Sorry to hear.

            At least she comprehended me. But maybe my mother had a point. Summer break had just started. So, I’d probably hang out with Kylie another time.