Exploring Mental Health in Fiction: Brandon Sanderson’s Approach

(Spoiler warning! This article explores themes and character arcs from Brandon Sanderson’s series, the Stormlight Archive.)

Mental health is a complex, deeply personal topic for many. The National Institute of Mental Health estimates that mental illness affects more than one in five people in America. It covers a wide range of experiences, from anxiety to depression to PTSD. Because mental health issues are relevant to so many people, writers are learning to incorporate it into their fiction and readers are seeking out stories that show characters navigating their own minds. 

Stories are a powerful tool—a mirror to better understand human experience. For Brandon Sanderson, writing about mental health is a natural extension of exploring a character’s psychology in a realistic way. In doing so, he’s able to better understand himself and others. Let’s dive into how this topic presents itself in Sanderson’s work.

How Brandon Sanderson Writes About Mental Health in the Stormlight Archive

Sanderson’s epic series, the Stormlight Archive, is a great place to start. 

Take Kaladin, for example. He’s a soldier, a slave, a Radiant, and a leader. As we follow Kaladin through epic battles with outside forces, we also follow his internal conflict with helplessness and hopelessness. When he faces these inner struggles, he becomes more capable of facing his external choices. Kaladin’s experience with depression isn’t an afterthought—it’s ingrained in his journey. Navigating his mental health shapes him, the way these experiences shape countless people in real life.

Sanderson’s stories resonate with readers because they explore what it means to be human. Even on worlds vastly different from ours, this injection of reality makes the stories achingly familiar. 

In his FAQ, Sanderson explains why it’s important to consciously incorporate mental health in fiction. “It’s not that the series (Stormlight Archive) is about people with mental illness,” Sanderson says. “Rather, I view it as a series where I’m trying to present the psychology of people in a more realistic way, and make their psychology interact with the magic and the setting.” 

Mental health alone doesn’t define people’s internal reality. To develop characters that resonate with readers, you have to approach their psychology holistically.

“In any given small group of people from our world, you’re likely to find a number of people dealing with issues like this—it’s not that most of the world is ‘normal’ and a few people ‘broken,’” Sanderson explains. “It’s more that we all have a wide range of mental conditions and psychologies, and it’s an area that I find a lot of adventure fiction ignores.” 

Readers want to see themselves in the story, to have their deepest thoughts and feelings reflected through characters. How else can we understand the complicated emotions that affect us?

To expand the conversation, Sanderson explores how a character's environment influences their mental health. His worlds become living things, shaping the characters and plot. It’s not necessarily because the world is so detailed (though that’s important), but because a fictional world doesn’t feel real until a character interacts with it. As readers, we care about that world when we see its effect on characters we love.

“I think in particular something like depression becomes more glaring when you’re expected to save the world. And identity issues might become more prevalent if you could literally change your face to become someone else when you wanted to,” Sanderson says.  

Considering the role of mental health in a character’s arc from all angles makes these experiences feel lived in. As a result, it creates a more immersive story that can serve as a mental map for readers to navigate similar challenges. 

How Sanderson Brings Readers Inside

In his essay, Outside, Sanderson reflects on his own feelings of isolation and disconnection. 

“This comes, in part, from a certain…oddity about me that started in my young teens…As my friends hit puberty, they became more emotional. The opposite happened to me. Instead of experiencing the wild mood swings of adolescence, my emotions calcified. I started waking up each day feeling roughly the same as the day before. Without variation.”

Sanderson clarifies that it’s not that he is unfeeling. It’s that he doesn’t experience the same highs and lows that other people do. This aspect of Sanderson’s own psychology often makes him feel “outside” of the human experience. 

It wasn’t until he found fantasy books as a kid that it finally clicked for this intensely empathetic author. “I was an isolated kid whose emotions were doing something bizarre… Then I opened a book where I found emotion,” he says. 

A fictional story allowed Sanderson to understand himself on a deeper level because stories are honest in a way that people often shy away from—afraid of vulnerability or rejection. But fiction shows us that we aren’t alone, that others struggle with similar things. In other words, stories bring people inside.

So, when asked why he writes, Sanderson says:

“It isn’t about worldbuilding; that’s a mistake everyone makes about me. Assuming I write because of worldbuilding is like assuming someone makes cars because they love cup holders… I don’t write for plot twists, or dragons, or clever turns of phrase—though I enjoy all of these. I write because stories bring people inside. And I sincerely, genuinely believe that is what the world needs.”

When Fiction Acts as a Mirror

For readers, seeing characters navigate depression, trauma, or anxiety can be profoundly validating. It offers a mirror through which we see parts of ourselves reflected back. In a world that often stigmatizes mental health, these stories are more than just escapism—they are a source of solace and validation.

As John Green said, “Great books help you understand, and they help you feel understood.”

Sanderson’s characters learn to accept themselves, lean on others for support, and push forward despite setbacks. This narrative closely aligns with the reality of healing, showing that recovery is not linear. 

“When I read or write from the eyes of other people, I legitimately feel what they do. There’s magic to any kind of story, yes—but for me, it is transformative. I live those lives. For a brief time, I remember exactly what passion, and agony, and hatred, and ecstasy feel like,” Sanderson says.

That right there is the moment when understanding transforms into feeling understood, and it’s something that transfers from writer to reader.

By integrating mental health representation into his narratives, Sanderson has created a space where readers see themselves and their struggles reflected in the heroes they admire. Fiction like Sanderson’s can start conversations, foster understanding, and ultimately, remind us that being vulnerable, asking for help, and navigating complex emotions is our strength. 

When You Find Yourself in the Cold

As Sanderson writes in Outside, “So when you find yourself in the cold, know that sometimes, there’s a purpose to it. Trust me; I’ve been there. I might be there right now. Feeling the cold on my cheeks—but these days, no longer in my bones. Knowing that this will pass, and that it might be for my good. Most of all, looking up so I can appreciate it. The still. Solemn. Perspective. Of one who stands outside.”

If you haven’t read the essay, you should. Most of us can relate to the feeling of standing outside, and that sense of isolation can prevent us from discussing mental health. Fiction that openly represents mental health through beloved characters is one of the most important vessels we have for this crucial conversation. Sanderson is paving the way for future generations of writers to do the same.