Building Worlds

When it comes to world-building, the prevailing sentiment is that it’s always a more challenging enterprise in fantasy writing versus “real world” genre writing. Having written contemporary, historical, paranormal, and high fantasy fiction, I’m going to first disagree with that statement, and secondly say that writing in all genres requires world-building, of different degrees and types, and that each carries its own challenges. 

“In fantasy, you’re making up a whole world from scratch. That takes way more imagination.” Fantasy does require more imagination, but I think, for the most part, our fantasy worlds are inspired by very real countries and cultures throughout history. Much of our most-renowned fantasy, Tolkien for instance, is based on Western European history and tradition. But there’s Middle Eastern inspired fantasy, Asian-inspired fantasy, African-inspired fantasy. No matter how unique, fantasy is all inspired by *something* real; authors are drawing on the experiences of someone, somewhere, in some time period. The beauty of this, of high fantasy set in a wholly fictional realm, is that you can mix and match. A pinch of this, a dash of that, with room to invent when necessary. No one can argue you’ve gotten anything *wrong* because it’s all your original invention. “Actually, glass windows didn’t exist yet” - anything can exist because you’re deciding the rules! It’s kinda great, really. 

But world building isn’t just for invented worlds. Historical or contemporary, romance, horror, or mystery, stories set in our world require world-building of their own. Two types: the type that requires research, and the type that’s creating a “canon” for your characters. 

Unless you're writing your true-life story, or only using your own experiences as a reference for your characters, all writing requires some level of research. If you set your story in a real-life city, you'll have to spend some time looking at photos, researching demographics, leading industries, hot spots, popular restaurants, the names of schools and parks. Each city has its own culture, its own vibe, and bringing that to life on the page is world-building. Let's say you invent your own small town - that's world-building, too. You have to create Main Street, and its businesses; its churches, its diners, its notable citizens. Real or imagined, you have to set the stage. Then you have to create the microcosms: the family homes, the schoolyards, that special corner in a park, where the wisteria sways over a bench just big enough for two. In a contemporary novel, world-building is what makes a fictional place real. In a horror or fantasy story, it grounds the readers so that the horrifying and the fantastic stand out, as shocking for readers as it is for characters. 

But the author's job doesn't end once the world's been built. No: once you've established a fictional world, it's your job to adhere by its rules. You have to operate within its parameters. For instance, a UFO can't suddenly touch down in the middle of Neyland Stadium in the Dartmoor Series. Likewise, Oliver can't mount a machine gun to the back of Percy's saddle in the Drake Chronicles. These are extreme examples, but the decisions you make moving forward must take into account the decisions that have come before, and they can't nullify the earlier ones. You'd probably label this practice as "consistency," but since no aspect of writing operates independently from the others, I view it as a part of world-building as well. Earlier, when I mentioned "creating a canon," I was referring to establishing some known truths within the world of your books on which readers can rely, again and again. 

In Dartmoor, I've established a world in which Mercy loves Ava more than anyone. He's killed for her, he'd die for her, he even walked away from her eight years ago when he saw he had no choice. But cheat on her? Become interested in another woman? Unthinkable. Let's say I decided I wanted to write a book about an extramarital affair, and rather than crafting new characters, I used Mercy and Ava. That wouldn't merely bend, but would shatter the rules established in this fictional Lean Dogs world I've created, and would shatter all my readers' trust as well. Successful world-building creates a solid, tangible world that readers feel they can know and rely upon. I can introduce a new, frightening challenge for my characters, but the readers will be able to predict how Mercy and Ava will face it. Chasing "unpredictable" - insert Benioff and Weiss noises about "we kinda forgot about the dragons" - is always a recipe for dissatisfying madness in a story. "I predicted that." Yes, well, that means I've created characters so rich and knowable that their actions can be predicted, which is a feature not a bug of my writing. If your world-building is solid, surprises in the story should help complete the overall picture; they should provide those "aha" moments. "Oh, that's why this was happening. Okay." Not "WTF was that?"

In my experience, writing historical fiction is far and away the most challenging. No matter how much research I've done beforehand, I inevitably realize how much I don't know in the middle of drafting. There's lots of pauses to go look something up. A dinner scene turns into "wait, did they use trenchers, then, or had spoons been invented?" A whimsical urge to insert a literary reference forces me to make sure the timeline for it works out. Clothing details are the worst. Creating a grounded, knowable world centuries in the past has been much more technically difficult and time-intensive than any contemporary or high fantasy project. One of the ways I've made my historicals more accessible is by modernizing some of the dialogue. I decided to get across the essence of what was being said, rather than dressing it up with the antiquated speech patterns that would bog the story down. 

I don't view world-building as something separate from storytelling. Every writer has strengths and weaknesses, and has room to improve in all aspects of writing, but I think it's a mistake to think of them as discreet skills. Plot, character development, pacing, world-building, dialogue: they all have to work in harmony, and each informs the others to create a complete portrait. I've never read a book and thought, wow, lousy characters, but great story, nor the reverse. So too is world-building integral. You build the world of the story, and then you must maintain it as the narrative unfolds.