On World Building

“So many things go into writing a novel, it's easy to forget that with every word you write, you are making a decision”

-Mitchell Bogatz

As the quote suggests, it’s important not to oversimplify word-building. Everything you write has greater implications than even you intend. If your main character enters a nightclub wearing a red dress, rather than a blue dress, this has a score of implications - intentional or not. That said, while the smallest details can’t always be planned, I’m a solid believer in careful, elegant world-creation prior to the writing of the first word. There are two parts to this article, the choices and their implications, and what you need to do to make your world strong.

Real Or Fictional World

A real world is often considered more limiting, but this isn’t necessarily true. For something to be set in the“real world”, it only needs the heart of its universe to function in essentially the same way. Technically, Buffy the Vampire Slayer is set in the real world; despite there being hordes of vampires, demons and other paranormal entities, beneath the layers of story, we are still on planet  earth and our international system of government functions in more or less the same way. By this definition, the world of The Walking Dead is not real, despite it being located on planet earth.

Both have distinct advantages. In the beginning of a story, a real world is more easily relatable. It is also far easier to develop complex characters in a world that doesn’t require quite as much explaining as a fully fictional creation. On the other hand, a fully fiction world, if done correctly, is more immersive and easier for readers to remember (as it is different than what they are used to). Because stories revolve around Ideas or Characters, many stories can work in either setting - it’s just about choosing the one that accentuates your characters or theme the best.

Choosing A Date (Or Level Of Technology)

Even if your story doesn’t take place in the real world, you are essentially always choosing a date. If there are no combustion engines, railroads or electronics, you can be on Xilibrith 2 in the year 7346 - but that’s still essentially the early 1800s.

Choose your date based on how you want your characters to interact. By necessity, most stories with early dates are either character driven or involve an event of a grand scale (typically war or the spreading of a disease). Again, if your date is simple and doesn’t need to be explained very much, it’s easier to focus on characters right away.

Geography

Napoleon was long credited with the phrase, “Geography is destiny”. As a bit of a historian myself, I couldn’t actually find any reference to this phrase in the early 19th century. Personally, I think this quote is attributed to Napoleon because geography played an incredible role in his life. Believe it or not, our modern world is completely different than it would have been if what is now modern day Belgium weren’t a rainy country. In the battle of Waterloo, Napoleon had planned for his attack to begin in the morning, but decided to wait until the evening because it rained; this gave the Prussians time to arrive and stop Napoleon’s army. Think about that for a second. If it hadn’t rained on June 18th, 1815, France might be the largest country on earth today. Russia might not be a super power. Our global governmental system would be completely different… all because of the absence of a few raindrops.

Geography can have as big of a role on your story as you want it to, but I’ll give this warning: don’t wait until you need geography to bring it into the story! If you have a story that doesn’t mention geography for 200 pages, and then suddenly a tornado comes into town and wipes everything away, your audience will cry foul play! If you need a tornado, then fine, have Peggy talk about a tornado she saw as a child in chapter 3 - that way when chapter 33 comes around, the audience believes you.

Small Village Or Megacity

This one ties directly into your main character’s personality. There aren’t a lot of positives or negatives either way here. A megacity is a little more convenient for events on a global scale, and a small village or city might be more convenient when it comes to bringing in lifelong familial figures - but this is far from the primary reason to choose one over the other. I’ll get to that in a bit…

Now that I’ve gone over the different choices, it’s time for some advice--

Choose The World That Creates The Most Conflict!

If your character is a compulsive explorer, put him in a tiny village. If your character wants to settle down in his family home by the lake, put him in a rocketship a million miles from earth! Figure out what type of story you want to tell, and after that, choose the world that makes things the most interesting.

Realize That People Will Not Give You The Benefit Of The Doubt

If you don’t already have a trusting fan base, you need to realize that people will automatically assume that you don't know what you’re doing. This is why Peggy needs to mention the tornado in chapter 3 - to show that you’ve done your homework. If something is important in the story, it needs to be introduced, even if it’s in a very subtle way. (See: Chekhov's gun.)

Don’t Use The “Ignorant Character Motif” Too Often

In many fantasy stories, there just so happens to be a character that knows absolutely nothing about the world he or she is in, so they walk around asking questions and getting explanations through pages and pages of dialogue. Again, if this information needs to come out, do it in an elegant way.

Don’t Over-Explain Things

This ties directly into my post, On Over-Description. Here are two snippets from that post that speak for themselves:

1) If it doesn’t come across naturally, don’t include it.

2) The more you analyze something, the more you invite readers to look for errors …

If your story is filled with asides, it will be frustrating to read! For instance, if your characters are playing a game in the Dharavi Slum in Mumbai, why should you take time away from this interesting scene to explain the rules? If you want to, you can always explain the rules in the appendix of the book!

Communicate Necessary Things Through Their EFFECTS

If we’re walking through the land of Albareth, and we need to know about the devastation caused from a great war between elves and dwarves, the easiest and most elegant way to do this might be through the effects of the war.

I don’t mean that Grills, the hero, should walk through charred land and then have Algernon, his elvish companion explain what happened. That’s just a disguised ignorant character motif! What I mean is that Grills should walk past trees that are cut down and not say a word; that his elvish companion should run into a dwarf who, without specifically saying why, treats him horribly; that dwarf children should run away from Algernon who, upon questioning, remarks, “It’s just a sign of the times”.

Do you see how, without actually mentioning a feud between elves and dwarves, we as the readers are completely aware of it? That is precisely what you should be going for, especially if you are writing in Third Person Limited!

Understand The Difference Between Complexity And Hidden Complexity

In many cases, knowing that complexity is present is a lot better than having to hear about it. Ideally, especially when creating a fantasy world, you want people to feel like there is so much information one couldn't possibly include it all. Feel free to make reference to events that you never explain or to use words that are explained contextually. Hidden complexity almost always makes a world stronger. Typical complexity can actually harm your story!

Fiction & Nonfiction: A Surprising Connection

One of my good friends, the very same man who recorded the audiobook for Tiny Instruments, Phil Mayes, inspired me to write this post. In addition to his audio work, Phil is the co-author of two wonderful self-help books, Secrets of a Successful Relationship Revealed and How Two: Have a Successful Relationship. Despite an obvious gift with the word, he told me, “I’ve tried writing fiction, but I couldn’t do it.”

I’ve heard this kind of thing before, and I understand where it's coming from... but I disagree. I’ll say this unequivocally: anyone who can write about their own personal experiences in an interesting, informative way is more than capable of writing fiction. It’s all in the mindset!

Personally, from an editing standpoint, I see little difference between fiction and nonfiction. Nonfiction is more than informative writing based on facts - if it is going to be good, it still needs to elicit emotion! That means variation in sentence-structure, and that means conflict. Think about it this way: at the end of a self-help book, if you don’t feel empowered to change something in your life, there was something wrong.

Simply put, nonfiction is telling what happened, what you were feeling and what you were thinking to provide insight into experiences or modes of thought. (Or, in the case of biography, what happened to your subject, what they felt or what they believed.) In nonfiction, characters or ideas are already made. All you have to do is be truthful.

Fiction, on the other hand, is telling what would happen and how you, as your character, would feel or think in a certain situation.

Notice I didn’t say, “you or your character”, but rather, “you [AS] your character”. To understand and empathize with someone, all we can do is imagine what it would be like for us to be in their shoes. It is the same with writing someone. Should I choose to, my empathy allows me, as a white male, to bring insight to the life of a young black girl in the deep south. Whether the story is written in third or first person, while I’m writing about that human being, I am a young black girl because she acts in the way I would if people looked down on me. She speaks in the way I would if I had her background. She feels pain and joy in the same way that I would if I were her - because I am her.

And so here lies the connection. Not everything in fiction is make believe. Characters are as real as can be within the confines of their own individual worlds. They find their basis in emotional and psychological truths. To make the switch to fiction, all one has to do is imagine a situation, and write things the way they are.

On Over-Description

A few days ago, I received a message, via Twitter, about a serious problem that writers often face. I decided to use this week’s blog post as an opportunity to answer it it. The message was as follows--

"People have told me that I over-describe in my writing. They say it’s intrusive. Do you mind doing a post on how not to overdo description? I read your post on interior monologue and a lot of that applies too, but I think I have followed those guidelines, and yet, there is still a problem."

-Kunal

Dear Kunal,

Over-description is something a lot of authors struggle with. It’s important here to understand the root causes of the problem. You can describe A LOT without it being an issue with your readers. Here’s an example, “Clouds of mist rose from rusted sewer grates in the cool night, and John, without any idea why, began, once again, to think of Carol.” There is absolutely no problem with this sentence because it doesn’t interfere with the reader’s imagination. It’s only when you try to control the minds of your readers that you are accused of over-description. If you follow the tips below, you might find that this kind of feedback simply disappears.

Don’t Describe Your Characters Too Specifically

People like to imagine that their characters are like themselves or the people they know. If you say too much, you can rob them of that illusion early on.

Read the following, painful segment: “Jane, 5’6”, entered the room, flicking her lengthy brown hair. Her long legs drew the attention of several men as she strutted in wearing the faux-leather boots her mother bought her last Christmas. The twenty-five year old was wearing also, a custom made pink top, and a short pink skirt to match.”

If you look close enough, the content isn’t awful. We actually get a decent feel for who Jane is. We understand her cockiness, and we get a good sense of what she looks like… but what we gain in clarity we lose in the ability to fill Jane in with our own minds. Jane couldn’t be like Beth, the girl you spent hours dreaming about in Russian class. Jane is Jane. Period. That’s it. Door closed.

Here is the segment re-written with less definite descriptions: “Jane flicked her hair as she entered the room, and for a moment, it seemed that the only sound for miles was the tap of slender boots as she made her way across the floor. She didn’t look at the people around her, but down, at her shirt, to make sure it properly accentuated her breasts.”

Let’s take a moment and look at what I DID NOT describe:

Her height

Her hair color

Her hair length

The type of boots she is wearing

Her age

Her outfit

et cetera…

et cetera...

Despite all these “missing” descriptions, in only two sentences, we have a far better understanding of who Jane is as a person.

Side Note: In my novel, Tiny Instruments, which is over 85,000 words long, the only definite description I attributed to Timothy was that he had “flaky brown hair”. That’s it.

Don’t Force Description

In the first example above, “The twenty-five year old” was blatantly forced. It was as if the author, me, felt the information needed to get across, and just did the best he could…

To be honest, no description “needs” to be there. There is no reason we, the readers, need to know any specific details of a character. If it doesn’t come across naturally, don’t include it.

This piece of advice still applies to description. As I said in my post on interior monologue, if a character is running away from a clown zombie, it doesn’t really matter how eerie the wind sounds as it blows through the trees! If description distracts, it doesn’t belong!

Sneak Descriptions In!

So, how do you write description without it distracting? Sneak it in!

“Grasping the cold iron, he attempted to pull himself up, away from the thing that clawed at his legs… but his arms were shaky, and sometimes, no matter how hard we fight, the darkness still wins.”

Here, “cold iron” isn’t remotely distracting.

Here’s another example:

“Supporting her limp arm, she walked across the street to her car.”

This one might be more obvious because you’re looking for it, but, ordinarily, it would be a perfectly fine way to get across the fact that she has a limp arm.

Here’s another example:

“His long fingers slid under her shirt as his breath, hot against her skin, snaked its way around her neck. She looked at him with wide eyes, but she wanted him so badly, she couldn’t tell him to stop.”

Other than the realization that I could write pornographic novels if I chose to do so, I hope you picked up on the well-placed descriptions. In all three examples, the description was able to be snuck into a scene of ACTION! Remember, there are few things more boring than description in the place of action.

If You Must Describe, Don’t Do It All At Once

This is what it sounds like. If you believe that a setting or a character warrants specifics, that scene or character will probably be around for a long time. There’s no rush. Take your time.

Pick A Few Key Things To Describe

If a character walks into a room, you don’t need to describe everything in the room - just a few key items for us to get a feel of what the room is like. It’s no different from the description of Jane above. Give our minds the outline, and let us color it in!

View Passing Settings Like Minor Characters

If you go out of your way to describe a character that is only present for three pages and is never seen again, you’re wasting your time. Most people are familiar with this concept, so I wonder why people don’t translate it to settings. I’ve seen several pages devoted to describe alleys and fields that were briefly present and never seen again.

--Less Is More--

I’d like to end with a story about the longest chapter of my novel.

When I was first writing Tiny Instruments, I used to read each chapter to my writing group. I had grown accustomed to useful tips and suggestions from the excellent writers that fill those tables, but never before or since have I learned more than when I read the first draft one of the most well-known segments I have ever written: The Ladder and the Wall.

Despite giving out tons of advice on writing descriptions, I included several logistical descriptions about how the artificial being, TC5, managed to push a ladder off the top of a shed onto the other side of a wall. It felt like they were important. After all, didn’t the readers need to know how far away the wall was from the shed? Wasn’t it important that Timothy used his right hand to climb up onto the shed and not his left? If I didn’t include it, people might accuse me of not knowing these important details, and lord knows, I do FAR too much planning to tolerate that nonsense!

When I concluded, I received a fair amount of praise for the conclusion of that chapter - but one of the authors whom I respect the most, Steve, told me something I’ll never forget. “I loved the chapter, Mitchell,” he said, “but you’re killing my imagination. It’s enough for you to know the details of how something works. Be careful. The more you analyze something, the more you invite readers to look for errors in what you’ve written.”

Pay special attention to that last line: “The more you analyze something, the more you invite readers to look for errors …” After that reading, I went straight home, and whipped that chapter into shape. I realized that I'd wanted so badly for readers NOT to question the logistics of what I’d written, that I'd not only “killed [Steve’s] imagination”, I broke the cardinal rule: for God’s sake, don’t ever interrupt the action!