Suspension of Disbelief: Story World Rules

Today, we’re continuing the series I started last Friday on suspension of disbelief.

Suspension of disbelief is a fancy phrase for something that happens very naturally for most audiences. When we come to a story, be it on television, in a theatre, or between the covers of a book, we do so with the desire to be entertained. More often than not, we are happy to believe implausible things for the sake of hearing a really good story.

Suspension of disbelief happens on some level with most any tale, but for reader and author alike, fantasy and science fiction often require a higher level of commitment. In these genres, specifically, it’s exceptionally important that the author create a world so compelling that the readers’ doubts are readily set aside. 

Taken out of context, out of their story world, we have to try very hard to believe in Orcs and Goblins, in immortal Elves and towering Ents. But within the masterfully created Middle Earth, it’s not difficult at all. Because Tolkien put time and effort into the creation of his world, we willingly suspend any disbelief that would dare creep up on us while we read. In this way, we become invested in the story. Invested in the fictional creatures and we freely feel their plight.

There’s an argument out there that claims the reader assumes the burden of responsibility when it comes to suspending their disbelief. That when a reader comes to a story, they must choose to set aside their preconceived ideas and simply believe what is put before them.

I think there’s truth to the argument, but I think in most cases this is happily done and as long as the author holds up their end of the deal, as long as the author does not screw it up, the reader will remain in a state of suspended disbelief. A little too philosophical? Maybe. 

Why don’t we talk about how your story world construction fits into this discussion? 

Story worlds, specifically fantastical ones, must be built on rules. In some stories the rules play a large part in the plot. In other stories, the rules act more like boundaries, but whatever the case may be, you must be careful not to violate your own story world rules. If you do, you open the door in the reader’s mind to doubt.

When I was writing Angel Eyes, I was very conscious of this truth. Believing in the supernatural–as I do–I genuinely believe that, with God, all things are possible. But I knew that if I wanted readers to suspend their disbelief, I could not have God swoop in and fix everything at the end. I needed to show that my characters were bound by the rules of the world they were living in.

So, while I believe that angels are immortal, spiritual warfare makes little sense to my human brain if angels and demons cannot be injured. To solve that story problem, I created rules. I had to decide what angelic warfare would look like, who it would affect and how exactly, and then I had to commit not to break those rules. 

When we think about all the fantastical worlds that use magic, we realize they are constructed uniquely. In some books, magic can be conjured simply by thinking or speaking, but in the Harry Potter books, JK Rowling makes it clear that wands are necessary for casting spells. This is an important piece of information and a rule she exploits to her great advantage. 

Without spoiling the books for new readers, think about how devastated we all were when So-and-so’s wand broke. And what a wand it was! A very special wand, with powers So-and-so had greatly depended on. When we found out the wand couldn’t be repaired, we understood the consequences were dire. And all because Rowling was faithful to the rules she built her world around.

Consider how anti-climactic that moment would have been had the author not been clear about the importance of wands. Which brings me to another point: if readers aren’t clear on the rules of your story world, you risk toppling their desire to believe. 

The movie version of Maleficent is a great example because Angelina Jolie’s terrifying speech at Aurora’s christening laid a very important rule for us. Once Aurora was grown and pricked her finger, only true love’s kiss could wake her. From the very beginning we understand this rule, we understand the stakes. And we trust the storytellers to do their job honestly. To give us a fairytale ending that is arrived at by staying within the boundaries they’ve set. 

I could get lost here meandering through one example after another, but I’d rather hear from you all.