Tag: magic

Using Science in Worldbuilding: Sand, Silica, and Surfing Jinn

Published on by Leigh

When I first started imagining the jinn realms, I didn’t want to lean purely on folklore because if jinn were around in the time of Alexander the Great (as they were), then surely they would have evolved just as much as the human world did, right?

I love legend as much as the next fantasy writer, but I also love grounding my magic in something that feels like it could be real if the stars aligned, and well, magic really was running rampant. Enter science – the salvation and bane of my existence.  

So – trick question – what’s abundant in the regions traditionally associated with jinn?
Sand.
Endless, shimmering, heat-blasted sand.  And camels, but more on those in a later post.

Sand means silica, and silica has hi-tech potential. Years ago, I saw this video, and sometimes a spark of inspiration isn’t recognized as such until SUDDENLY IT IS!  I had the seed of a civilization whose technology wasn’t based on metal or electricity, but on heat-shaped glass, crystalline structures, and silica-based energy systems. A world built from the very substance that humans have access to as well, but the jinn are way ahead of us.  I wanted the world to feel familiar and possible, and glass gives me that.

The next question was: Keep the flying carpets?

Of course, when you’re drawing inspiration from a region filled with deep folklore, you bump into those classic motifs:  Flying carpets. Bottled spirits. Mischievous wish-granters.  I’ve already accounted for the last two, but those carpets were a hurdle…because some legends slide naturally into a fantasy world and others…can feel trite.

But that’s what fantasy writers do.  We make those hard decisions:  Keep what readers expect, or let it go if it doesn’t serve the story?

Flying carpets have a certain charm — portable, whimsical, and instantly recognizable. But in a silica-tech world? Did they fit? Would they feel too easy?  Too literal?

Then I realized something that Pops has told Ari dozens of times:

Stories don’t appear out of nowhere. They’re rooted in some real observation, however distorted.

Which got me wondering…

What If the Flying Carpet Myth Started With the Jinn Themselves?

Maybe humans glimpsed something extraordinary and explained it the best way they could.

A distant shimmer.
A figure gliding over the desert.
The mirage-like wave of dunes moving under something that shouldn’t have been able to move that way.

“Flying carpet,” they might have said, because what else is flexible enough to float and glide over terrain?

But what if they weren’t flying?
What if they were surfing?

Not on water, but on sand.  Using what was available because of their magic and affinity with fire?

Suddenly, the origin of the flying carpet makes perfect sense (if you can get over that whole magic thing – which I have no problem doing).  Remember – magic was once the default answer for anything that didn’t make sense!

Humans saw a silhouette moving across dunes fast and smooth enough to defy belief. Imaginations did what imaginations do – related it to something familiar (carpet) and then it got a little magical glow up – poof! – genies on flying carpets!

Science + Myth = My Favorite Kind of Magic

At the end of the day, that’s the sweet spot for me in worldbuilding: the place where science deepens myth rather than replaces it – and somehow makes everything seem possible.

It’s also pretty cool that I can make surfing jinn a thing.

A Deep Dive into Liminal Spaces

Published on by Leigh

Truthfully, I wanted to blow something up, metaphorically speaking. I wanted a big, magical explosion, and then I wanted to see what my characters did with it. I could have chosen any location, but I picked one with the power to transport you anywhere: from the depths of the sea to the far reaches of space, and everywhere in between:  a library.

Okay, so a magical library where the possibilities for great adventures are increased a million-fold. But rather than destroying it, I wanted to trap people. People I care about. People I enjoy writing into existence. But I wanted to write them out of existence and send them NOWHERE.

That’s how Shattered Magic began. It was my opening scene from day one: a library. A catastrophe. Chaos. And poof! my trapped characters were lost.

And then… I was equally lost. The book stopped cold. It simmered in the back of my brain for months. I tried to dissuade myself, tried to pick a new opener, but it didn’t feel right. I loved it, my folded library too much to give up. So I let the story sit, as I usually do. And the answer to my literary dilemma came from a WhyFiles YouTube video on liminal spaces.

And we were off.

I didn’t invent the concept, but when I discovered it, it was like the universe was smacking me over the head, begging me to use it. So I did a deep dive into liminal spaces – airports, train stations, doorways, even elevators – and discovered that between here and there lies a place that’s both and neither. A place where you’re waiting to move on.  Where possibilities are everywhere. These spaces aren’t meant to be inhabited long-term; they’re transitional, designed for waiting until you move on to your next destination.

There’s a long history of lore about liminal spaces, too. In ancient times, people buried small protective figures beneath doorways to keep evil spirits from slipping through, because they believed all liminal spaces had the potential to let anything through, and it’s better to guard against trouble than try to get rid of it.

And yes, there’s a disorienting feeling to being in one of these places for too long. Time seems suspended because, rather than being present where you are, you’re anticipating moving on. Think of a snowed-in airport – nobody’s supposed to be sleeping on the floor, and I’m pretty sure nobody gets quality rest when they have to do that – but all of those people are trapped between where they came from and where they’re going. And airports, train stations, and other liminal spaces aren’t designed for long-term occupation.

Psychologists describe liminal spaces as places of transformation, uncertainty, and possibility. Perfect for fantasy, right?  So that library explosion turned into a journey through liminal spaces that forced my characters to grow. By trapping them in a place that’s neither here nor there, I could explore who they are when the world goes sideways. Chaos became possibility, fear became personal, and a simple “what/when” question – what happens to people when they’re trapped nowhere for too long? – turned into a story about choices, courage, and the quirks of the people I love to put on the page. 

Here’s another honest fact that didn’t occur to me until I was writing this post:  I was in my own liminal space while I finished that book.  Caught between the career I left and the one I was starting.  Sometimes, the in-between is exactly where you want to be, and sometimes serendipity sneaks up on you.

Snarky Markety

Published on by Leigh

I know I need to market. But marketing for indie authors like me is a life of keywords, spreadsheets, and acronyms like CTR and CCP – and that just makes my brain hurt. I try. Really.

But I spend a day analyzing, creating, posting – and PAYING – and then all I’ve done is create MORE work for myself because the following week, I get to “look at the data” and do it all over again. A day of marketing is not only unpleasant for me, but it sucks time out of my writing. Let me tell you about my marketing journey and why I’m choosing NOT to market at this point (much to the detriment of my bottom line).

When I started this full-time writing career, I had visions of working for myself, publishing on a regular basis – and once Shattered Magic was out in the world, I turned my attention to my biggest failure – marketing.

I’m terrible at it. I’ve tried TikTok and Pinterest, I run ads, and I’m pretty reliable at posting on Instagram – but all that time is a swing and a miss in terms of moving books. When I sit down to look at the data, I feel like a total failure—and that mindset affects my productivity as a writer.

So when I made the switch to authorhood, I found someone whose work in book marketing I respect and admire – someone I love to watch and whose advice I trust – and I signed up for a course. I worked that course to the best of my ability – but as much as I loved the creator, I just couldn’t get excited – so I plodded through lessons and homework and webinars for a full 30 days and guess what happened to my next book?

Nothing.

And by nothing I mean I didn’t write a single sentence in 30 days. I just couldn’t. I was so frazzled and beat down by the marketing stuff that I had zero left to give my books.

That 30 days cost me 90 days of writing because I was so discouraged and defeated I had zero joy left for my craft.

Zero, people!

But the stress-quotient was off the charts! My writing space became a place I actively avoided, rather than a place I ran to for refuge.

I could tell because my desk was obsessively clean. Things were filed. Things were labeled. My fancy gold binder clips sparkled while keeping my marketing plan, task lists, and keyword notes all neatly contained. And my computer folders were labeled with spreadsheets, comp authors, and data, data, data.

The clean desk was a sign I was in deep trouble.

It was not the course creator’s fault. That person is amazing. It is a matter of temperament – MY temperament.

A temperament that was cultivated over years of doing exactly that sort of data-driven, spreadsheet-based work in an entirely different profession. A profession I left to write books.

So, I dropped the course. Then I did 60 days of “marketing detox” and realized something: I can spend days writing ad copy and get ZERO joy, or I can spend days writing new adventures. If they sell – great – but I’m not going to sell anything if I can’t write – and if marketing kills writing then I need to banish marketing.

Maybe this will change, but for now, my goal is words on a page. Not ads in a folder – and my binder clips? Safely stored in my desk where they can’t trigger me.

A day at the Bazaar

Published on by Leigh

This is one of the things I love most about being a writer: I get to have adventures from the warm comfort of my office, and Theo gets to go everywhere with me. Today is a little cold (there’s a good amount of frost on the leaves) and I have a billion things that I should be doing as a productive adult. Instead, I’m heading off to scout locations for Ari’s next adventure.

After I’m done scouting the Bazaars of Turkey and Iran, I might swing by a party that Caly should be attending in the Southie neighborhood of Boston. I had dinner last night with Darius, the great Persian King, and I visited with a few art forgers in my living room. It’s amazing what I can find out on my smart TV.

As I look out over my backyard this morning, I know that forsaking my weekly chores for research is the right decision. I’m back at my day job in this post-covid world (it’s not really post-covid, yet…but I’m an optimist) and I just want to escape from that pressure cooker on the weekend and do something enjoyable. Not that my job doesn’t have enjoyable moments, but there’s very little magic happening, and witty banter is kept to a minimum because my colleagues and I are all so busy.

I have a sense of time pressure, though. Construction on Theo’s fence began this week and my mind is starting to drift to garden plans and plant propagation. When the impending snow melts and the first flush of spring arrives, I’ll be outside creating my oasis. It’s been a twenty-year dream of mine, and I’m finally going to make it happen. I’ll even have a blog about it in case you’re interested (after all, I am a writer and artist…so blogging is just second nature and it keeps my writing muscles flexed).

So I must get back to the bazaar! Time is ticking and I need to tell you all about what’s happening for Ari and Caly before it’s time to start working in the garden!

Coming Soon!

Published on by Leigh

I’ve been super busy writing and I wanted to let you know what’s coming up in the near future.

New Content for my VIP list! I have a new short that’s coming out soon. In Resistant Magic, Kai mentions a character you haven’t heard of: Simon Jampa. My VIP list members will get to read all about him in Simon’s Lake.

Since my VIP list has already received two short stories from me, I’m bundling them with a third short into a little box set of stories that take place outside of the series timeline. In the new box set, I’ve included Hedgehog Tea – a short story that I wrote several years ago for the “A Cup of Christmas” Collection. It’s a cute little story about Salem, MA and some of the interesting characters in that town. Oh, and Calypso Mendelsohn has a walk-on scene.

Speaking of Calypso (Caly) – her new adventure is coming out this fall. This time she’s in over her head because she’s settling into her new life. Trouble finds Caly – usually by walking into her booth at Foretold and presenting her with an opportunity to use those less savory skills! It’s still just too much to resist for my favorite psychic (outside of Nan, that is).

For Ari’s fans – don’t worry – the next adventure is in the works. A few of you have mentioned wondering how the new characters will adjust to the modern world so I’ve given you the answer (and a whole new mystery) in Ancient Magic. This is EXACTLY why those reviews and comments are so important to me as an Indie Author.

UPDATE: The new short story my VIP list just got is actually about the Gnomes because Simon’s story is developing into a novella!