I know, I know, I told you in my last article on Heart’s Desire there’s eight essential elements required to craft a working story. Sorry, I believe there’s actually nine. Why didn’t I tell you that in the first place? Because you can’t handle the truth! No, I’m sure you can, you’ve been following along, you’re here to learn. But it’s best to take new ideas in small doses. We need to wrap our minds around new truths before we can assimilate others. This is the way.

So here’s the next, and it’s an integral part of what I call the Nine Elements of Story Structure. Once again, I’ve never heard this principle taught in any writing courses or seminars I’ve taken, and I’ve taken many over the years, from college professors, famous literary agents, and New York Times bestselling authors. And yet, as I analyze stories on both the written page and the movie screen, I see this fundamental item show up in virtually every successful story I read or watch. What is it?

The Magic Sword.

The concept of a weapon of power wielded by the hero of a tale to defeat the antagonist or opposing force in story or myth is not new. It’s an integral element of our earliest stories, whether it’s the Norse mythology of Odin thrusting Gramr into a tree, the Shinto storm god Susanoo’s sword Ame-no-Habakiri used to defeat an eight-headed serpent, or ancient India’s tales of Lord Brahma that created the sword Asi to destroy malevolent Asuras.

In Western culture, we have Homer’s The Odyssey, written almost three thousand years ago. The Magic Sword took the form of Odysseus’ bow where his wife Penelope challenged freeloading suitors to prove their worthiness by stringing her lost husband’s bow and firing an arrow through twelve axes. All fail miserably in their attempts and the long-lost Odysseus, disguised as a beggar, proves the only one with the power to string it. He easily meets the challenge, thus proving his identity as both husband and king, and with his powerful bow in hand, quickly vanquishes his foes. 

Fast forward almost two thousand years and we have the tale of The Sword in the Stone, melded into Arthurian legend by French poet Robert de Boron. In that tale, the mage Merlin set a sword into an anvil atop a stone, stating only the rightful heir of Uther Pendragon would have the power to withdraw it, proving their birthright as king of Britain. Many view that sword today as Excalibur, but the true magic sword by that name appeared later in the tale, a gleaming sword of power forged in an unworldly realm, given to Arthur Pendragon by the Lady of the Lake to vanquish his foes (although Merlin pointed out the scabbard was the true prize, as its enchantment prevented the wearer from ever bleeding to death in battle).

As the legend took its twists and turns over the centuries, and especially in the hands of Hollywood, Excalibur became indelibly etched as the ideal of the Magic Sword— a weapon of gleaming magical might that could only be wielded by the virtuous and worthy to vanquish their foes in battle.

I hear some of you saying, “Hold up there, Moon. I’ve read plenty of stories and watched plenty of movies with nary a sword in sight, magic or otherwise. How can you say Magic Sword is an integral part of storytelling?”  

Magic Sword is an archetype— a recurrent symbol or motif in literature, art, or mythology that represents a thing of power wielded by the protagonist to defeat their enemy. As an archetype, it can take many forms, but the basic premise is always the same. The protagonist at the beginning of the story does not have it or does not know how to wield it, otherwise they would vanquish their foe immediately and the story would end at the beginning. That won’t do, won’t do at all! Our heroes need to prove themselves! They need to pass through some trials by fire to show what they’re made of before we’ll view them as worthy of vanquishing their enemy.

Remember, most stories revolve around this premise: From a weak state, made powerful. At the start of the tale, our heroes are weak, unable to defend themselves against a superior antagonist or force. But they are strong of spirit, and choose to go forth and find a way to conquer their adversary. Through the course of the tale, the hero gains allies, knowledge, and power, until they’re finally able to utilize lessons learned to face down their opponent and vanquish them, or at least make them back off so the hero can go home and live a life of peace. 

But how does a person confronted by a superior force that keeps them from their heart’s desire figure out how to conquer their enemy? When faced with the inciting incident at the start of the story, that soul-crushing problem that steals away their ability to get that which is most desired, most protagonists realize they aren’t powerful enough to defeat the enemy on their own. Chances are, they just got clobbered, and maybe not just them, but their family, friends, perhaps even their race or their world. A proactive hero with some intelligence realizes they can’t beat this enemy on their own, they’re going to need help. So they develop a plan to go find a person or thing that can help them gain the power necessary to defeat their enemy. That person or thing of power? It doesn’t have to be magic, it doesn’t have to be a sword, but it must have the potential to provide the elements, power, or knowledge necessary to defeat the enemy. That’s a Magic Sword.

There are many ways to play this concept. A protagonist in a state of poverty could realize a prized scholarship would get them the education they need to change their future. An immunologist might seek a vaccine or treatment that could prevent a deadly pandemic from spreading. A young lady might be sick of being harassed by a stalker, and takes up defense training to protect herself. In each of these instances, the hero realizes they don’t have the solution to their problem, but they have an idea of where they could go to gather more knowledge or power to themselves. They often develop a rudimentary plan after being crushed by the inciting incident that will set them upon a journey to obtain the power to defeat their enemy. They go after the Magic Sword.  

Sometimes they possess the thing of power, but have no idea how to unlock it. Sometimes they know where the thing of power is, and go on a quest to obtain it. Sometimes they don’t have a clue what they could use to defeat their enemy, but they’re told of someone who does. Whatever the case, the hero realizes they can’t beat this enemy on their own or with their current skill set, so they go on a quest to obtain the power, skills, or knowledge necessary to win. 

Even in detective stories and thrillers, the problem is whodunnit, and the detective goes on a quest to find that one slip up or decisive clue that will reveal the murderer’s identity. When they find it, they have the power to put the murderer away, fulfilling our sense of justice. Without it, they could not. Magic Sword.

Still skeptical? Let’s analyze the use of Magic Sword in many popular novels and movies. When I show you, the scales will fall from your eyes. It’s in everything. Oh, yes, my Precious. You’ll see …

Here's an obvious Magic Sword that everyone knows, and it was worn not on a belt, but on the feet of a young girl from Kansas. In L. Frank Baum’s tale The Wonderful Wizard of Oz, Dorothy’s house lands on the Wicked Witch of the East, killing her. What does the good Witch of the North give Dorothy? The Wicked Witch’s silver shoes. These are no ordinary shoes. “The Witch of the East was proud of those silver shoes,” said one of the Munchkins, “and there is some charm connected with them; but what it is we never knew.”

Okay, I see your wheels turning. “Whoa, there, buddy. Those were ruby slippers!” Just for you, I’ll switch to the cinematic version. When the ruby slippers appear on Dorothy’s feet, the Wicked Witch says, “Give me back my slippers. I'm the only one that knows how to use them. They're no use to you. Give them back to me. Give them back!” And Good Witch Glinda says to Dorothy, “Keep tight inside of them. Their magic must be very powerful, or she wouldn't want them so badly.”

Dorothy receives a Magic Sword early in the story. We know they have power because the Wicked Witch wants them so badly, and Glinda says they must be “very powerful.” But Dorothy doesn’t have a clue how to use them to return home. She’s going to have to go on an adventure to earn the right to be able to use their power. And only through many trials including almost losing her life as she tries to save others does she earn the right to the incantation that will unlock her Magic Sword. At the end of the movie, Glinda tells her to click her heels together three times and say … say it with me now: “There's no place like home; there's no place like home; there's no place like home." And the Magic Sword —those ruby slippers— takes her to her heart’s desire. Home.

Here's one for you lovers of legal thrillers: John Grisham’s The Firm. Mitch McDeere fresh out of Harvard law gets an offer he can’t refuse, and goes to work for a firm that has a curious rate of deadly accidents among its lawyers. Spoiler alert. By the time Mitch figures out he’s working for a company whose biggest client is a Chicago mafia family, he’s in too deep to get out alive. What’s more, the feds pressure him to forgo attorney client privilege to give them the goods on the Firm, which would cause Mitch to be disbarred. Damned if you do, damned if you don’t. Mitch is in a no-win situation involving two powerful entities, and both will ruin him no matter what he decides to do. 

Mitch desperately seeks a way out of the clutches of both the feds and the mob family. To protect what he has worked so hard for, he needs a way to keep his license to practice law on the one hand, and a way to save his life on the other. To beat both of these powerful entities, Mitch must come up with not one but two magic swords. 

To satisfy the feds, he discovers a way to stick the firm with mail fraud for sending padded bills to clients through the U.S. Postal Service, a federal offense that will shut their practice down and put their attorneys behind bars. To keep the mob bosses from killing him, Mitch sends his brother out on a live-aboard sailboat carrying files exposing all their operations and holdings that could put the mob leaders away. If Mitch gets knocked off and fails to check in with his brother, those damning files go to the authorities. The mob bosses get the point: Mitch now has the thing of power to destroy them, and killing him would unleash it. In both cases, Mitch vanquished enemies that would have destroyed him, and he did so by using knowledge gained to forge his own magic swords.

One of my favorite magic swords is in the classic movie, Casablanca. Set in 1941 in Casablanca, Morocco, expatriate American Rick Blaine owns a nightclub, and desperate refugees gather there from across Europe to make deals for exit visas to America in order to escape Nazi control. The sleazy swindler Ugarte is under hot pursuit and calls upon Rick for a favor— that he hold an envelope for him until a deal can be finalized. What’s in the envelope? “Something that not even you have ever seen,” Ugarte says. “Letters of Transit signed by General de Gaulle. They cannot be rescinded, not even questioned.” Rick accepts them, and when Ugarte is captured and dies in custody, the Letters of Transit become Rick’s by default. This document is a mighty magic sword, and by wielding it at the end of the story, Rick defeats the Nazis bent on keeping the leader of a resistance movement and Rick’s former lover from leaving the country.

Can you see how Magic Sword is deployed in most successful stories? Go read or watch some of your favorites and pinpoint the moment the hero realizes they need it, their journey to obtain it, and whether they learn enough through their trials to become worthy to wield it. It’s there, whether you’re reading about Paul Atreides trying to get a handle on his destiny in Dune, or watching 17-year-old Daniel LaRusso facing his nemesis in The Karate Kid. It’s the Time-Turner Hermoine Granger uses to save the day in Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. Now that you know what to look for, you’ll be able to spot it. And when you see it showing up again and again, I think you’ll agree with me that Magic Sword is a major element in virtually every successful story.

When you understand a tool, you can put that tool to work. And if you master that tool, you can have a distinct advantage over others that aren’t even aware the tool exists. So as you look at your own stories, ask yourself: Have I worked in my version of a magic sword? Does my protagonist have it at the beginning of the tale, or does she go on a quest to find it? Have I created adequate tests to prove she is worthy of wielding the magic sword at the climax? 

Here's a Super Secret trick I like to do with Magic Sword. Introduce it in plain sight in the opening of the story so the reader understands it’s available to the protagonist, but make it appear so innocuous, they don’t realize how important the device could be. This can often be done by close point of view, where the protagonist himself doesn’t realize its value, but through the course of the story comes to appreciate how it could be used at the very end. An epiphany in the hero’s dark night of the soul as they realize there might be a way to use the item can be a pleasant surprise to the reader, especially if the magic sword was introduced in the opening, and the surprise wielding of it to defeat the opponent is sensible and logical. It takes skill to hide a magic sword in plain sight in a story, but the surprise critical deployment of an item that seemed innocuous can be very satisfying, getting you high marks with readers, editors, and judges. We all enjoy a good surprise. P.T. Barnum made a great living out of delivering the unexpected to his audiences. You can, too.

Do you see it there, glowing in the stone? That otherworldly light shining from a metal forged in the spectral fires of another dimension? Then grab the hilt, retrieve the Magic Sword, and claim your destiny by wielding this mighty talisman of power.