Writing is a craft. And like any craft, there are skills to be honed in becoming good at it. Most authors will agree; you never stop refining what you can do. Arguably, worldbuilding is one of the most interesting thing that writers do, and one of the most profoundly damaging to the story when it is poorly executed. Every story has to be set in a world, even if it’s a simulacrum of our own reality. My published works are all fantasy, so the world(s) in which I set my stories require a little more building than a straight up fiction novel. That being said, the skills to construct a credible, real, but not overly imposing world, I would argue are very similar, across genres.
This article is going to look at some of the tips and tools used in in constructing a world to cradle your story. It is 90% looking at the work and wisdom of people far more qualified than myself to talk about it, and 10% discussion on that have worked for me.
Before we progress any further, as with my previous articles on writing, such as when I wrote about the editing process, it’s important to note that every writer walks a different path. Some are pantsers, some are planners, some have a strict routine from which they do not deviate, some structure their days differently. So please keep this in mind when I say that something works for me, or if you come across one of the below-quoted authors who say it works for them.
As far as I am concerned, the first and most useful tool you’ll ever need in creating a fantasy world is a notebook. Write down every detail about the world you create. Your memory may be good, but it’s not perfect. In fact, I tell a lie. The human memory is notorious for filling our brains with false memories and forgetting things like your internet banking password and where you put your keys three seconds ago. Any and every thought that passes through your creative mind, even if you end up not integrating it into the explicit story of your world: Write. It. Down. The more complex your world becomes, the more strong is the need for you to keep track of that complexity. Are there weird plant names? Write them down. Particular religious faiths and histories? Write them down. People have whacky eye colours? Note that sucker down!
Not only does this assist your memory, but it also reveals things you’d never expect to see. For instance, I didn’t write down a lot of my invented names for plants, stones, and drinks, in Dark Intent, and as such it was only when someone pointed it out to me did I realise that I really reached for a certain sound when trying to come up with a name. Needless to say, it wasn’t a mistake I’ve repeated. The other thing you notice when you write things down is something you may miss, or an extra detail that you may want to add in. Keeping notes on your world is the easiest way for you to help yourself.
But that’s methodology more than anything else.
At the 2018 Emerging Writer’s Festival in Melbourne, I sat in on a worldbuilding panel in which C.S Pacat, Marlee Jane Ward, and Isobelle Carmody offered words of wisdom about worldbuilding. C. S Pacat’s guiding refrain was to write with a ‘light touch’; to include little details that build the sense of a bigger and more complete world. Perhaps it’s a certain art style, perhaps it’s the presence of multiple suns or moons in the sky, or even just a description of a certain scent on the breeze. All of those smaller elements lend themselves to immersing the reader into the world of the text. Crucially, this approach steers away from massive slabs of text which can be an unfortunate trope for writers who are trying to set the scene by pausing the story to describe the environment in minute detail.
Carmody further reflected upon her worldbuilding style with the comment that her characters reveal elements of the world. In writing a scene, she revealed that parts of the world with which the character interacts, reveals features of the setting.
I quite like the idea of combining these two elements when creating the world – think about how those small details are plausibly going to assist you in your writing, too. In determining how your character interacts with the world, you are able to plausibly and naturally introduce elements of the world to your reader without dropping a wall of text into their lap.
Research is also key. Don’t worry, I don’t mean that you need to spend hours and hours researching things before you write a single word, but the benefit of knowing stuff can’t be understated. The inimitable Terry Prachett wrote in his essay Notes from a Successful Fantasy Author: Keep it Real (which is very hard to find so I’m citing the excerpt from this obituary):
“Read widely outside the genre. Read about the Old West (a fantasy in itself) or Georgian London or how Nelson’s navy was victualled or the history of alchemy or clock making or the mail coach system. Read with the mind-set of a carpenter looking at trees.
Apply logic in places where it wasn’t intended to exist. If assured that the Queen of the Fairies has a necklace made of broken promises, ask yourself what it looks like. If there is magic, where does it come from? Why isn’t everyone using it? What rules will you have to give it to allow some tension in your story? How does society operate? Where does the food come from? You need to know how your world works.”
It’s almost impossible to put into words how the cluttered collection of general knowledge that I have accrued over a lifetime of being a sponge for information that makes me quite good to have on a trivia team but not necessarily useful for another single and directed function comes to my aid when writing. Need to know about medieval censuses? Check. How was ale made in Ancient Egypt? Sure. How were the jurors determined in Ancient Rome? Easy. By lottery. It all helps to build new systems and worlds that seem plausible and smoothly create the illusion of an enormous and complex world of which we are catching the tiniest glimpse by charting the course of our protagonists.
Jay Kristoff and Amie Kaufman (authors of the YA sci-fi smash hits Illuminae Files and Aurora Rising) go into quite some detail in this blog post about how they built the world for Illuminae. If you can’t be bothered reading the whole thing (you really should, it’s quite interesting), they note that they had the genesis of an idea for their story which was set in space. From there, they determined certain aspects of the world in relation to how they envisaged the plot unfolding. Then, to ensure that the details they included were correct, they consulted with a lot of experts. That’s another great point; even in a fantasy world, you want to ensure you have details correct. The universe more or less exists in accordance with some logic. If you can simulate or mimic that logic, even if you want to create a completely new taxonomy of edible crops, you still need to know stuff relating to farming, food, and how and why a diet ends up being balanced. In my forthcoming book, Dark Heart, I wanted to contrast rich person mattresses against poor person mattresses in a sort-of medieval setting. Ninety minutes of trawling later, and I knew a great deal about the stuffing material for mattresses five hundred years ago. I’m still trying to figure out the exact details of shoes made during the era, though, so if anyone can help me out, please let me know.
At the end of the day, worldbuilding is hard work, but it’s incredibly rewarding. You ultimately have conjured something from your imagination that is immersive, interesting, and a genuine space to delve into both for yourself, and your readers.
So grab a pen, your notebook, and get started!
For further reading/watching, I recommend Brandon Sanderson’s lecture on worldbuilding (in fact this whole lecture series is incredible).
