The talk of the indie writing world is a book titled 7 Figure Fiction: How To Use Universal Fantasy To Sell Your Book To Anyone by T. Taylor. After seeing several discussions about the concept of “universal fantasies” show up in various writing communities, I decided to read the book to find out what all the fuss was about.
I really have only two negative feelings about the book, which I will share first, so that we can move on and get into the really interesting stuff. The first is the tone of the writing—it’s very salesy, and that approach isn’t my favorite. The second is that I think the idea could have been fleshed out a bit more, and I think a few more concrete definitions would have been useful, though there are a lot of examples, which helps.
That said, I think the concept is really solid, and other versions of it have been talked about in other capacities elsewhere in the writing world. But there is something unique about this particular approach, that I think offers a really valuable way of thinking about storytelling, and that’s what I want to discuss.
First off, let me explain Taylor’s concept of universal fantasy. It’s pretty simple overall, but sometimes difficult to talk about, as it’s closely related to concepts like tropes, human givens, or value propositions.
Essentially, universal fantasies are the specific emotional payouts a reader is looking for in a story. This can be large, like the feeling triggered by the romantic payoff at the end of a romance novel, or small, like a feeling triggered by a sweet moment between two friends forgiving each other somewhere within the narrative. I think the biggest challenge when talking about it is differentiating the concept from a trope, because often the two things seem inseparable. But the way I think of it is that a trope is a narrative tool used to deliver the universal fantasy (or the emotional experience) to the reader.
A universal fantasy can exist outside of a trope, but a trope must deliver the emotional payout or it will fall flat or be perceived as tropey or cliched. One trap a writer can fall into is the assumption that by using a trope, they have automatically delivered the emotional payout, but this is not the case. Alternatively, while tropes are commonly used techniques, a story can still deliver the emotional payout without the use of a trope at all (and that’s how new tropes are invented).
I think the most valuable part of thinking about universal fantasy is that it forces you to consider your reader’s needs in the development of the story. What emotional, experiential value do they get from the story?
And not just in the broad sense, like a happily ever after, or a hero defeating the villain. But in those little moments—what sorts of emotional payouts can you weave into the narrative, that make the reader keep turning the page and feeling the feelings?
One of my favorite universal fantasies that I saw recently was at the end of the new Hawkeye Christmas series. At the very, very end, after the two main characters fight all the bad guys, Kate goes home with Clint, and celebrates Christmas with his family. This universal fantasy—the warmth of accepting strays—is one I love. It’s not the climactic moment of the story. It’s not a budding romance. It’s a very specific sweet, warm, cozy feeling I get anytime I see this type of scene. It’s a universal fantasy.
Real scene at my house, when Kate and Clint are sitting by the ambulance talking after the big fight:
Spouse: I hope she goes home with Hawkeye for Christmas after this.
Me: Me too.Hawkeye gets out of van. “Are you coming?”
Kate appears.Spouse: Yes!
We high five.
Universal fantasies can be found everywhere. Take Taylor Swift, for example, the Queen of Universal Fantasies. Every single song she writes is based around at least one major universal fantasy and then has a dozen others woven in. “Shake It Off” has like twenty universal fantasies in it: the annoyance of parents/others expecting you to live up to a particular standard, frustration at the expectations other people have regarding your love life, the ability to keep moving forward and breaking away from other people’s expectations, the freedom of dancing—practically every other line has a universal fantasy in it.
I will say that different people will respond differently to different universal fantasies (yes, I just used the word “different” three… now four times). Not every universal fantasy will resonate with everyone—they’re not literally universal. And some tropes or stories will deliver different emotional experiences from one reader to the next. From the perspective of the writer, there’s no guarantee that your work will create the emotional experience you’re going for. It’s still worth trying, though.
A universal fantasy allows the reader to either say, “Yes! This is what this feeling feels like!” or “Oh, so this is what this feeling feels like!” It allows them to feel the feeling. And it doesn’t always have to be good feelings—it only has to be relatable.
When I think about art, I think of it as a re-creation of … stuff.
A landscape painting is like filtering a landscape through our own minds, and trying to re-create it in paint. A photograph is a re-creation of the subject matter through film or digital technology. Music is a re-creation of sound. Writing is a re-creation of the stuff going on in our heads, or the things we say out loud.
But that’s only at a very surface level. Really, all art is an attempt at re-creating an emotion: the feeling of gazing at a beautiful landscape, or capturing the feeling of the moment with a photo, or trying to describe a specific emotional experience.
And I think the concept of universal fantasy pinpoints that. A universal fantasy is a re-creation of an emotional experience that a lot of people share. And I think writing offers a really special way of sharing those emotions—because we get to implant them directly into the reader’s brain.
At any rate, I think the concept of universal fantasy is really interesting. I find myself looking for them in everything I read, watch, or listen to now that I’ve thought about it a bit, and I’m also noticing the ways in which I incorporate them into my own storytelling.
It’s definitely worth checking out the book, if that’s something you’re interested in. Even if you’re a reader, not a writer, it might help you pinpoint exactly what tastes you have in stories, and help you find more books you know you’re going to love.