From the time I memorised Cinderella at age three, I have loved fantasy stories. The idea that there was an enchanted world just beyond my range of vision captured my imagination, but it was The Hobbit that really launched me into the genre, and I read almost exclusively in the speculative realm from that time on.
I love fantasy and science fiction for many reasons–the imaginativeness, the possibility, the pure adventure–but deeper reasons are what really keep me coming back. For me, fantasy and science fiction are not an escape from reality so much as a way of seeing it more clearly. Speculative fiction can make invisible realities visible, turn abstract ideas into concrete worlds, and explore difficult questions about freedom, identity, belonging, power, compassion, and what it means to be human in a way other genres cannot.
How Fantasy and Science Fiction Help Us See Invisible Realities
More than any other genre, fantasy and science fiction give us a new lens through which to see the world. They allow us to make the abstract concrete, the invisible visible. This is one of the reasons I write fantasy and science fantasy. A speculative world can exaggerate the forces shaping our own world and make them easier to see. A dystopian society can make systems of control visible. A fantastical creature can challenge our assumptions about what it means to be intelligent, powerful, or fully alive.
Far from being childish, fantasy worlds let us engage with the deepest of human questions, and science fiction lets us explore the ramifications of our decisions. Fantasy in particular is full of pithy symbolism, and worlds that can (and should) be constructed to showcase the theme of the story.
In my debut, Son of Osivirius, I use a science fantasy world to explore questions of freedom, belonging, identity, scarcity, and humanity's relationship with the natural world. In my upcoming romantic fantasy, the musical basis of the world and its magic system deepens this experience, and makes visible the interconnected nature of all matter. I use it to explore brokenness, shame, and redemption.
How Fantasy and Science Fiction Make Room for Adventure
There is something wonderful about placing a protagonist in a world where adventure is almost a given. Where people really do ride through forests and mountains, or explore different planets, where monsters exist, gods battle, amazing creatures deign to befriend you, and quests happen.
Perhaps this is one reason speculative fiction can be so hopeful. It reminds us that the world is larger than we can see, that the choices we make matter, and that even ordinary people may find themselves called into something larger than themselves.
That’s why I love a good ‘chosen one’ story. Fantasy, and often science fiction, feed our hunger for significance, and help us remember that our lives really do matter.
Why I Prefer Worldbuilding to Historical Research
My second go-to genre for reading is historical fiction. I really admire authors who can bring time periods to life in a compelling way, but I have no desire to write historical fiction myself because of the sheer amount of research involved! I much prefer the freedom to make things up! Worldbuilding also allows me to create a world that serves the story's deepest questions–and that is a vital advantage.
Of course, to make a fantasy world feel truly real, some research is required. Internal logic is important, and I could never accept a patchwork of ‘rule of cool’, but I can usually rely on a quick google search to give me the information I need. I just know if I had to bury myself in research, I wouldn’t write anything at all!
Why I Write Hopeful Speculative Fiction
The genre has tended dark since I first immersed myself in it, but I want to be part of reversing that. I am particularly drawn to speculative fiction that is hopeful without pretending the world is simple. The noble-dark of The Lord of the Rings, the noble-bright of The Chronicles of Narnia, and even the grim-bright of The Princess Bride.
The stories I love—and the stories I want to write—can contain oppression, fear, loss, injustice, and difficult choices while still making room for compassion, connection, courage, and hope. This is part of what I wanted to explore in Son of Osivirius: a science fantasy world shaped by scarcity and control, but also by the possibility of freedom, belonging, compassion, and a different way of living. It’s also the tone of my upcoming romantic fantasy trilogy, where an insidious evil hungry for souls corrupts good intentions. What the protagonist most wants is to self-actualise, and it is in the peeling away of ego and illusions that she can reconnect with her core, and the core of everything.
In short, fantasy and science fiction satisfy many hungers within me, allowing me to explore deep and painful human questions in imaginative and surprising ways, without bogging me down in factual accuracy. I cannot see myself writing anything else.