Magic In Common – Interview with Maurice Broaddus and more

Prepare yourself for a unique treat—a Magic In Common interview with the author who says

my approach for it was that magic would stand in as a metaphor for homelessness:  both are all around us if we know what to look for.

For more on how modern day grit and Arthurian legends clash together with a little help from magic, check out this interview with Maurice Broaddus: http://mauricebroaddus.com/uncategorized/guest-blog-a-ken-hughes-interview-of-maurice-broaddus-on-magic-in-storytelling/

It’s a juicy, thought-provoking set of answers. Maurice weaves in everything from mythology to Christianity to comic books in the course of ten questions. But there’s one that interests me most:

Several of his answers have to do with characters struggling to accept magic when it’s completely out of their world-view. It’s a delightful shock to write and read, seeing who can adapt and who just stares at the unknown demanding “a logical explanation.” (Those people always seem to forget that the whole point of logic is for beliefs to give way in the face of evidence, sigh…) For an urban fantasy like Maurice’s Knights of Breton Court, leading street warriors into the roles of King Arthur, it can be the absolute flashpoint of the conflict.

It only makes sense. We expect a brush with magic to be, well, magical, and to do justice to the moments of coming across it.

 

But I wonder, how does that impact compare to some of the other positions a hero and magic can move through? Just who has how much magic, and where does that put the balance of drama?

  • If the hero simply isn’t allowed that kind of power, you can get:
    • a more familiar, relatable hero, without the wilder chances and temptations he might have had. Conan instead of Harry Potter (or Captain America instead of Thor).
    • magic serving people or rules other than the hero’s, forcing him to deal with it on its own terms. Plot devices.
    • or just a stronger, spookier villain if most of the power goes there. Horror in all its forms.
  • If the hero has to discover magic and do justice to that shock:
    • she’s not only relatable, we get the most out of that journey’s impacts. The same startling change for the character that we readers are flirting with by reading the story.
    • meanwhile the times before and after that transition get to push the other buttons, of course!
  • and if (or once) the hero does have full access to magic, that opens up horizons like:
    • more time to see the power itself in use. A natural for action stories and the like.
    • character reactions that are even more unusual than being awestruck: showing someone who’s used to what we find so unusual. (“So he rides a dragon; he still gets airsick.”)
    • then again, nobody said all magic had to be routine. Getting used to one level of it can be just another way to make us appreciate some much stronger force—especially a Vastly Darker threat that’s suddenly unleashed!
    • or if the heroes have magic and they keep the advantage in that field… often the main threat used is a public attitude against magic itself. More or less the X-Men approach, and a thousand YA tales of finding what makes you unique makes you misunderstood and a target for the status quo. As if the only thing besides magic strong enough to threaten it is a worldful of ignorance.

 

For myself, my writing seems to be on the later stages of this cycle, if cycle it be. In Shadowed, Paul is the main person with any power and he’s trying to unravel mysteries all on his own. (Whether it stays that way or not…) The High Road begins a bit earlier, with Mark and Angie just discovering their flying belt, and then facing a deadly but mundane threat that has its own surprises in the wings.

But it’s a question any writer has to decide in dealing with magic. How close can your center character come to the power, and when in the story, and what other roles does it play?

And as readers, whose eyes do we want to see it through?

 

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