How to Avoid Fantasy Tropes: Originality for Novelists.

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Okay, imagine we’re having a chat, maybe over a cup of coffee (or something stronger, depending on what kind of dragon you just fought in your head). I’m going to share some thoughts, some things I’ve been mulling over about writing fantasy, because let’s be real, a lot of it can start to feel a bit… samey.

So, here’s the thing. We all love fantasy, right? It’s that escape to places filled with magic, bizarre creatures, epic quests… it just transports you. But sometimes, those very things that make it amazing can also trap us, the writers. You know, the “rules” and “types” that pop up over and over. What used to be fresh and exciting can just become, well, a mold. We pour our stories into it, and they all come out looking pretty similar.

But true originality in fantasy? That doesn’t mean chucking out all the magic or getting rid of the dragons. Nah, it’s about looking at them differently. Twisting what people expect. Breathing new life into those concepts we all know. And that’s what I want to talk about today – how we can avoid those worn-out patterns, really spark our creativity, and build fantasy worlds that truly stand out and grab our readers.

Stepping Off the Well-Worn Path: Let’s Pick Apart Those Common Ideas

First off, to skip the tropes, we gotta know them. They’re not inherently bad, like I said. They’re just patterns that have been used to death. The trick is to see them when they pop up in your own early ideas. That’s the first, super important step to going beyond them.

The “Chosen One” Problem: Rewriting Destiny

Seriously, the “Chosen One” is everywhere, isn’t it? Just some ordinary person, burdened by some old prophecy, has to save the world. It’s got that immediate appeal, sure, but honestly, it’s so predictable it often kills any real character growth or narrative tension.

Here’s how I think we can shake things up:

  • The Unchosen One: What if that destined hero bombs? Or just says, “Nah, not my problem”? That forces someone else, someone totally unexpected – maybe a grumpy baker or a scholar who’s scared of their own shadow – to step up. Not because some prophecy says so, but because they have to, or they just find a burst of courage. Their journey then feels earned, driven by their own struggles, not just some pre-written script.
    • My brainstorm: Forget Elara, the farm girl with the magic sword. She trips, sprains her ankle, and it’s Grognard, the middle-aged guard who dreams of retirement, who picks up the sword. He doesn’t want glory; he just wants his village safe so he can finally enjoy his pension. His reluctant heroism and self-doubt make his eventual success so much more satisfying.
  • Destiny for a Crowd: Why put all that pressure on one person? What if saving the world needs a whole group, or even an entire society? The solution means people have to work together, use all their different skills, and overcome their own internal squabbles, instead of just waiting for one person’s magical bloodline.
    • My brainstorm: The ancient evil isn’t beaten by one person. It’s a bunch of warring factions who finally put aside centuries of hatred. Each group has a unique piece of the puzzle, a specific type of magic. They have to combine forces. Think about the political drama, the cultural clashes, and how hard it would be to even start making those alliances.
  • Heroes Who Choose Themselves: What if heroes just… become heroes? Through their own choices, hard work, and what they learn? Their “destiny” isn’t given; it’s forged by what they do. That makes their sacrifices and triumphs so much more meaningful.
    • My brainstorm: This young mage doesn’t just wake up with awesome powers. She spends years hunched over forgotten books, carefully, often dangerously, trying out rituals. She slowly, painfully, creates her own unique magic. Her power isn’t a gift; it’s something she built, brick by painful brick, with countless failures along the way.

The “Dark Lord” Guy: Adding Some Layers to Evil

The “Dark Lord” is usually just pure evil, chilling in some desolate fortress, always wanting to conquer everything. Simple, effective, sure. But that flatness often takes away any real psychological depth and makes the conflict feel a bit… kiddie.

Here’s how I’d make villains more interesting:

  • Reasons Beyond Just “Evil”: Give your bad guy motivations that you can, dare I say it, understand. Maybe they genuinely believe they’re doing good, bringing order to chaos, or stopping something far worse. Their methods might be horrific, but their core belief? It’s got its own twisted logic.
    • My brainstorm: This isn’t just a “Dark Lord.” This is a disillusioned idealist who watched humanity destroy itself and decided that forced control was the only way to save everyone. Their “tyranny” isn’t about being evil; it’s a brutal, but in their mind, necessary salvation. That throws you into a morally gray area.
  • Weak Spots and Flaws: Even terrifying villains should have vulnerabilities, insecurities, or unexpected soft spots. That makes them human, more terrifyingly real, and less like a cartoon.
    • My brainstorm: Our powerful necromancer, who can raise armies of the dead,? They actually suffer from crippling social anxiety and are horribly lonely. Their pursuit of ultimate power is a desperate attempt to feel important, to be feared, maybe because they were powerless and ignored in their past.
  • The Unwilling Foe: What if the “villain” is actually being manipulated, cursed, or forced into their monstrous role? Their internal struggle becomes a huge part of the story.
    • My brainstorm: The monstrous beast ravaging the kingdom isn’t naturally evil. It’s a sentient being that was twisted by a magical artifact it can’t remove. Its aggression is a desperate cry for freedom, not a desire to hurt. So the heroes’ quest changes from “kill the beast” to “understand and maybe free it.”

The Same Old Races: Let’s Get Creative!

Elves, dwarves, orcs – these generic fantasy races are easy shortcuts. They let us skip the detailed world-building, but they also stop us from creating truly unique cultural interactions and interesting characters.

Here’s how I’d rethink racial identities:

  • Flip the Script on Existing Races: If you have to use them, really mess with their usual traits. Make your elves engineers, your dwarves mystical wanderers, or your orcs super intellectual philosophers who love performance art.
    • My brainstorm: Instead of reclusive, tree-hugging elves, what if they’re a hyper-urbanized society obsessed with fast tech? Their cities are sprawling metal jungles that actively reshape nature instead of living in harmony with it. And their “magic” is more like super-advanced physics.
  • Invent Totally New Species: Come up with entirely new, intelligent beings with their own unique biologies, ways of living, philosophies, and magic. Something that’s nothing like an elf or a dwarf.
    • My brainstorm: Let’s create the “Chromians.” Their bodies are made of shifting crystals that absorb and refract light, making them masters of illusion. Their society is all about manipulating light and sound, and they express emotions through color shifts, not facial expressions. Imagine the communication challenges! Or how about the “Mycelians,” a fungal collective consciousness that talks through spores? Their “cities” are vast underground networks of roots and caps, and their goal is to slowly, quietly reclaim ruined lands.
  • Focus on Individual Differences: Just like humans aren’t all the same, why should all elves or dwarves be? Explore sub-cultures, rebellious minorities, or individuals who completely defy their species’ stereotypes.
    • My brainstorm: In a seemingly uniform desert nomad tribe, introduce a pacifist sub-sect that interprets ancient prophecies differently. This creates internal conflict and shows the shades of gray within a supposedly unified culture.

Magic That’s More Than Just Waving Hands

Magic often feels like a quick fix, a handy way to solve plot problems. If it’s too vague and limitless, it takes away all the tension and makes victories feel unearned.

Here’s how I’d give magic some teeth:

  • Hard vs. Soft Rules (and Why): Decide how much you want to define your magic. A “hard” system has clear rules, what it can’t do, and what it costs. Readers know exactly what’s happening. A “soft” system is more mysterious, but still needs some underlying logic.
    • My brainstorm (Hard Magic): Magic isn’t about spells; it’s about tapping into invisible elemental energy lines that cross the land. Casting a fire spell means drawing energy from a fire-dense line, but too much draws from you too, making you fatigued, shaky, or even temporarily blind. The bigger the spell, the bigger the toll. This limits magic and makes powerful acts feel truly earned.
    • My brainstorm (Soft Magic, but still consequences): Magic is powered by emotions, but specific emotions lead to specific, often unexpected, results. Intense rage might summon an aggressive elemental, but it might also cause collateral damage or slowly drive the caster insane. Fear might create illusions, but it drains physical strength. The power is there, but so are the unpredictable side effects.
  • Costs and What You Lose: Every magical act should come with a price. Physical exhaustion, memory loss, environmental damage, sacrificing an item, even a moral compromise. What do they give up for that power?
    • My brainstorm: A powerful healing spell might completely cure a life-threatening wound, but it shortens the caster’s lifespan by years, leaving them visibly aged or frail. A divination spell might show the future, but it erases a crucial memory from the caster’s past.
  • Magic’s Impact on Society: How does magic fit into your world’s economy, politics, and daily life? Is it rare or common? Controlled or wild? Is it a source of power, oppression, or just another tool?
    • My brainstorm: In a world where elemental magic is part of everyday life, imagine whole industries built around it. Fire mages run blacksmiths, water mages manage irrigation, air mages control wind for transport. This creates unique social classes and even potential labor disputes involving magic users.

The “Epic Quest”: Let’s Make Journeys More Interesting

The classic “epic quest” to find some artifact or beat a big evil is, well, classic. But often, the journey itself is just a predictable string of events leading to a foregone conclusion.

Here’s how I’d make quests more surprising:

  • Beyond the Magic McGuffin: That special item or goal shouldn’t just be some magic thing. Its importance should be something personal, symbolic, or just deeply tied to the context.
    • My brainstorm: The quest isn’t for a “Sword of Destiny,” but to find a lost recipe for a plague cure, legal documents proving ancient land rights, or a series of old star charts that reveal a cosmic threat. The heroes’ motivations become much more grounded and relatable.
  • Internal Journeys: The most important journey isn’t across a map; it’s what happens inside the characters. Their growth, overcoming personal flaws, or grappling with moral dilemmas can drive the story just as much, if not more, than external goals.
    • My brainstorm: The hero isn’t trying to defeat a monster; they’re trying to forgive their estranged parent and fix a broken family relationship. The external monster just becomes a catalyst for that internal conflict.
  • Unexpected Bumps in the Road: The path to the goal should be full of surprises, tough moral choices, and twists that make the characters rethink their mission, or even their own values.
    • My brainstorm: The heroes finally get to the old temple to retrieve the sacred relic, only to find it’s already gone, or, even worse, it’s being guarded by someone who genuinely believes they’re protecting the world by keeping it hidden. This forces a complete change in strategy and makes them question who the “enemy” really is.

Creating Something Truly New: Active Strategies

Avoiding tropes isn’t just about spotting and cutting them out; it’s about being proactive with your creativity.

Mixing and Mashing Genres: Blurring the Lines

Fantasy doesn’t have to be just fantasy. Combining elements from other genres can create something truly unique.

Here’s how I’d cross-pollinate my ideas:

  • Fantasy + Sci-Fi (Science Fantasy): Imagine worlds where magic and advanced tech mingle, or where ancient magical societies clash with futuristic civilizations.
    • My brainstorm: A civilization that uses crystal-based “arcane engines” to power their starships, and their high priests are also master quantum physicists. Their “dragons” are actually bio-engineered creatures, or maybe super old alien war machines.
  • Fantasy + Noir/Mystery: Put detectives or spies in a magical world. Clues are spells, witnesses are ghosts, and corruption is everywhere in the magic guilds.
    • My brainstorm: A down-on-his-luck urban shaman detective investigates supernatural crimes in a sprawling, rainy magical city. Ancient curses are used for corporate espionage, golems are hired muscle, and his only lead is a cryptic whisper from a ghost.
  • Fantasy + Western: Set your world in a wild frontier where magic is untamed, spells are drawn fast, and magical duels replace shootouts.
    • My brainstorm: A gunslinger with a magic six-shooter roams a magical frontier. Towns are built from enchanted cacti, desert spirits roam, and he’s chasing a witch who uses elemental magic to rob trains (trains powered by steam golems, obviously).
  • Fantasy + Horror: Dive into the psychological terrors of magic, old evils, and dark rituals. Focus on cosmic dread, body horror, or the slow corruption of the soul.
    • My brainstorm: Magic isn’t beautiful here; it’s a cancerous, mutating force. Casters slowly get physical deformities or go mad. The “elves” are gaunt, pale beings who feed on despair, and their beautiful forests are actually places of silent, growing horror where those who stray are subtly absorbed by sentient plants.

Twisting Expectations: The Surprise Around the Corner

Readers come to fantasy with certain ideas. Flipping those ideas on their head is a great way to be original.

Here’s how I’d flip the script:

  • Hero Turns Villain (or Vice Versa): What if the character we cheer for slowly becomes the oppressor they fought against? Or the supposed villain turns out to be a sad figure, or even a misguided saviour?
    • My brainstorm: The charismatic revolutionary leader, who started fighting for freedom, slowly adopts the same oppressive tactics as the empire they overthrew, driven by paranoia and the needs of power. And the original “tyrant”? Revealed to have been fighting a much bigger, unseen threat, and their harshness was a desperate measure.
  • The Prophecy’s a Lie (or Misunderstood): That ancient prophecy isn’t destiny; it’s a manipulation, a self-fulfilling cycle, or just plain wrong. This forces characters to make their own choices.
    • My brainstorm: The prophecy says the “Chosen One” will wield the Sunstone and defeat the Shadow King. The hero finds the Sunstone, but it turns out to amplify negative emotions, and the Shadow King isn’t evil; it’s a being that absorbs those emotions to keep the world balanced. Wielding the Sunstone would actually unleash the real horror.
  • The “Good Guys” Have Dark Secrets: Even the forces of good are flawed, morally ambiguous, or have hidden hypocrisies that eventually come out.
    • My brainstorm: The revered order of paladins, supposedly protectors of the realm, are revealed to have committed horrific “cleansing” rituals against a minority race centuries ago. Or they’re secretly stirring up conflicts to maintain their own power.

Really Digging into World-Building: Culture as a Character

A truly original world isn’t just a backdrop; it’s like a character itself, shaped by unique histories, cultures, and beliefs.

Here’s how I’d focus on the hidden foundations:

  • Weird Economies: How does your world support itself? Is it magic-based, resource-driven, or something entirely different? How does wealth work?
    • My brainstorm: An economy built entirely on bottled emotions. Powerful mages can extract and distill feelings like joy, courage, or sorrow into commodities, leading to black markets for addictive despair or artificial bravery.
  • Unique Social Structures: Go beyond just kings and lords. Explore matriarchal societies, meritocracies (where talent rules), gerontocracies (where the oldest rule), or even caste systems based on magic ability or spiritual purity.
    • My brainstorm: A society run by an oracle network, where decisions are made based on interpreted prophecies, leading to constant political maneuvering around the oracles’ pronouncements and skepticism about their true motives.
  • Environmental Influence: How does your world’s unique geography, climate, or natural phenomena shape its people, their cultures, and their conflicts?
    • My brainstorm: A world where the sun only sets once a month, leading to nocturnal societies with glowing architecture, different daily rhythms, and specialized nocturnal animals and plants. Their understanding of time and light would be completely different.
  • Twisted History and Legends: History isn’t just facts; it’s a living, changing story. What historical events are misunderstood, deliberately hidden, or just forgotten?
    • My brainstorm: The revered “founder” of a magic academy wasn’t benevolent but a tyrannical sorcerer whose history was rewritten by his successors to legitimize their rule. The truth is only hinted at in forgotten texts or rebellious oral traditions.

Character-Driven Originality: Individuals, Not Just ‘Types’

Great characters are the heart of any story. Focus on creating individuals, not just stock roles.

Here’s how I’d build characters from the inside out:

  • Flaws, Contradictions, and Inner Conflicts: No one is perfectly good or evil. Give your characters conflicting desires, moral ambiguities, and internal battles.
    • My brainstorm: A knight with a strong moral code is also deeply prejudiced against a specific race, forcing him to confront his own hypocrisy when he needs their help. A wise old mentor figure secretly struggles with a debilitating drug addiction or crippling self-doubt.
  • Unusual Skills and Backstories: Beyond the generic warrior or mage, what unique skills or experiences define your character?
    • My brainstorm: Your protagonist isn’t just a rogue; they’re a former cartographer whose perfect memory and observation skills make them an expert at navigating impossible terrain and spotting subtle magical disturbances. Or a retired librarian who uses deep historical knowledge to interpret ancient curses.
  • Motivations Beyond the Plot: What drives your character outside of the main story? What are their personal dreams, fears, and unresolved issues?
    • My brainstorm: The hero who’s supposed to save the world is actually reluctant, more concerned with finding their long-lost sibling or proving their worth to an abusive parent than with any grand destiny. The “epic” quest just becomes a way to achieve a personal goal.

The Litmus Test: Is It Really Original?

Once you’ve got your ideas flowing, put them through a tough self-assessment.

Here’s how I’d challenge my own assumptions:

  • The “Swap Test”: Could you swap out your unique race/magic/villain with a common trope, and the story still basically make sense? If so, you haven’t gone far enough.
    • My brainstorm: If my “Chromians” could easily be replaced by “elves” without major changes to the story or how characters interact, they’re not unique enough. But if their crystalline biology, light-based communication, and alien logic are crucial to the story’s conflict and resolution, then I’m on the right track.
  • The “Why?” Rabbit Hole: For every element you include, keep asking “Why?” Why is the hero chosen? Because of prophecy. Why prophecy? Because of an ancient wizard. Why an ancient wizard? Because he forged the world. Why did he forge the world? The deeper you go, the more unique your answers should become. If your “whys” keep leading to generic answers, dig deeper.
  • Sensory Details: Instead of “a magical forest,” describe the trees that pulse with internal light, the air that hums with ancient energy, the leaves that sing when the wind blows through them. Use all five senses to bring your unique vision to life.
  • Forget the “Cool Factor” First: Don’t just throw something in because it sounds cool (like, “I need a dragon!”). Does it actually serve the story? Does it challenge expectations? Does it add to your unique world or character development? If it’s just there for show, it’s probably a trope trap.

Originality in fantasy isn’t a one-time thing; it’s an ongoing process of questioning, taking things apart, and putting them back together in new ways. It takes guts to leave the familiar path and dive into the unknown depths of your imagination. By really using these strategies, you can step out of the shadow of tired tropes and create a fantasy world that is truly, breathtakingly yours. And trust me, your readers, who are always hungry for something new, will absolutely love you for it.