Life & Wisdom Quote by Terry Brooks

Fantasy’s secret superpower isn’t escapism; it’s permission. When Terry Brooks points to “a world in which elves exist and magic works,” he’s not just advertising glittery set dressing. He’s describing a craft loophole: by swapping our reality’s rules for invented ones, a writer buys narrative slack. “Digress and explore” is the tell. In realist fiction, digression can look like self-indulgence or avoidance. In fantasy, it can read as world literacy: the side road is the road. A chapter about an elven custom, a detour into an ancient ruin, a minor spell’s mechanics - these aren’t distractions, they’re proof that the world has depth beyond the plot’s immediate demands.

Brooks’s intent is also defensive, in a way that makes sense for a writer who came up in the post-Tolkien shadow and spent decades hearing fantasy dismissed as juvenile. He reframes what critics call “too much worldbuilding” as an artistic advantage: fantasy doesn’t have to sprint toward the point; it can widen the point. Magic becomes a tool for metaphor without the usual constraints. You can literalize power, temptation, inheritance, ecological collapse - and then follow those threads outward without needing to justify them as “realistic.”

The subtext is about reader desire, too. People don’t come to Brooks only for resolution; they come to live somewhere else for a while. Elves and magic aren’t just ornaments. They’re narrative infrastructure that makes curiosity feel like momentum, and makes wandering feel like meaning.