The “keeping magic mystical” rant. Since I’ve already done rants on understandable, rule-filled, kind-of-scientific systems of magic and the pitfalls I’ve seen with them, here’s some advice in the opposite direction.
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Scientific magic people, stay away! )
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Probably on a related topic, it'd be nice sometimes to have just ONE of something. To use an example I've used before, you can't have the Big Bad Wolf anymore, the Ur-Wolf, the only wolf that ever needs to exist and who wants your giblets for lunch--you have to have a race of ancient telepathic shapeshifters demonized by an ignorant peasantry/controlling religion, who worship the great moon goddess of Blah and live in harmony with chickens. And while that can be done well, sometimes it'd be nice to have the Big Bad Wolf as an option ( ... )
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To use an example I've used before, you can't have the Big Bad Wolf anymore, the Ur-Wolf, the only wolf that ever needs to exist and who wants your giblets for lunch--you have to have a race of ancient telepathic shapeshifters demonized by an ignorant peasantry/controlling religion, who worship the great moon goddess of Blah and live in harmony with chickens.
*snicker* True. I'd add that I prefer to have the One be something that isn't the protagonist, having seen a few too many 'last survivor of a magical race' stories.
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I added you. Could you add me back? :)
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Some of the best stuff I've read is no-holds-barred disgusting. It kinda helps that I prefer that style of writing, but honestly, after getting the fiftieth description about Some Heroine's glowing eyes when the Goddess has touched her and all the Wonder and Awe it inspires, it's nice to read something like Simon R. Green's Novels of the Nightside (not near as good as Jim Butcher, but still pretty good. I just wish they were longer) and in Something From The Nightside, when the hero is in a time-rift, he sees the future and there's nobody in existence except Razor Eddie - and that's because Razor Eddie made a deal with the Gods that he wouldn't ever die until he got his work done - so a bunch of pissed off bugs used Eddie as their host. Since he didn't die, they could lay eggs in him over and over again, and they'd hatch and crawl their way out of him. It was gross, but wonderful.
Douglas Clegg's You Come When I Call You is still one of the most disturbing books I've ever read, because it really holds ( ... )
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I'll have to check out the other novels you recommend; they sound neat.
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