After identifying your world’s origin and building its physical structure, it’s time to think about life. What kind of life exists in your world? Leave out the dominating species for now. They’ll come into play later.
Given the physical state of the world, peer at each climate and identify what organisms inhabit it. If it’s water, think about the fish or other aquatic animals that swim or lurk about. For land, imagine the plants, animals and insects interacting with one another.
I strongly advise against recreating every living thing on Earth in a new way. If your world is close enough to ours that it supports very similar species of plants, animals and insects, why do you want to teach your readers a course on biology based around this new set of creatures? Stick with the same animals we have in our world and maybe add a couple more just for fun. I can remember the names of a few new critters, but if you pelt me with a grocery list of animals that one of your characters discovers, I won’t remember any of them. One exception (and even then it’s best to limit how many species are introduced) is if you don’t want the reader to think of Earth in the least way.
Perhaps microorganisms also play a role in your world, and if so, have fun creating all of that. I know very little in the field of biology, especially microbiology, so I have little to contribute on the subject. If microorganisms aren’t essential in your story (or stories), however, I wouldn’t give them a second thought.
How much you want to identify predators, prey and the interaction of all life forms is up to you. It’s simply a matter of plausibility. The excuse of, “But it’s fantasy!” only goes so far. There has to be some give and take with your readers. If you don’t explain how 200,000 lions live on an island without any other visible sources of food, your story might come across as weak. At least give us a clue about those lions because that’s going to bother some of us. Having a character stumble across empty cans of tuna on the island would at least present a different dilemma.
Showing posts with label world building. Show all posts
Showing posts with label world building. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 09, 2007
Tuesday, January 02, 2007
World Building Part 2
Now that your world’s origin has been determined, the next logical item to consider is the landscape. This is a global-level plan for the world and its existence. Think of extreme gardening.
It’s time to make some maps! Maybe it isn’t necessary to draw the fine points of every square mile on the planet, but take some time to daydream about the view from a plane (or dragon). Consider the world’s origin as you design it.
One other point I will add before you break out the crayons is that it should be determined how fantastical the world is. Streams running through clouds or lakes of honey can work, but only if everything else matches as well. If your fantasy world has a structure that we might associate with our own planet, it becomes more difficult to break the laws of physics without coming across as silly or ignorant. Invite the reader to laugh with you, not at you.
If the world has any similarities to Earth, it might be a good idea to make an area that resembles where you specifically live. You’ll know a lot about the climate, wildlife and vegetation from first-hand experience. It might also help you to avoid creating oddities like rivers without sources. Of course, if everything is identical to your stomping grounds, some reader will snicker and say, “That crazy elf lives in Iowa.”
Think of the resources available to different areas in your world. This will help determine where civilizations or fantastical creatures may live. Are there some lands that are uninhabitable? If so, why?
Remember that this is all clay; it’s malleable. If things don’t seem right, tear up that map and start over. The purpose of building the world is to give it depth, but if some of the details interfere with telling a story, change those details.
It’s time to make some maps! Maybe it isn’t necessary to draw the fine points of every square mile on the planet, but take some time to daydream about the view from a plane (or dragon). Consider the world’s origin as you design it.
One other point I will add before you break out the crayons is that it should be determined how fantastical the world is. Streams running through clouds or lakes of honey can work, but only if everything else matches as well. If your fantasy world has a structure that we might associate with our own planet, it becomes more difficult to break the laws of physics without coming across as silly or ignorant. Invite the reader to laugh with you, not at you.
If the world has any similarities to Earth, it might be a good idea to make an area that resembles where you specifically live. You’ll know a lot about the climate, wildlife and vegetation from first-hand experience. It might also help you to avoid creating oddities like rivers without sources. Of course, if everything is identical to your stomping grounds, some reader will snicker and say, “That crazy elf lives in Iowa.”
Think of the resources available to different areas in your world. This will help determine where civilizations or fantastical creatures may live. Are there some lands that are uninhabitable? If so, why?
Remember that this is all clay; it’s malleable. If things don’t seem right, tear up that map and start over. The purpose of building the world is to give it depth, but if some of the details interfere with telling a story, change those details.
Friday, December 22, 2006
World Building Part 1
Aside from whether or not a fantasy world is being created for the purposes of one story or many, it still goes through a building phase. For quick, high-level world building, draw in the aspects of the world as needed and ignore the rest. If, however, you would like the world to have more depth, consider this series of articles (which I endeavor to complete in the future).
In this first article, I want to focus on the world’s origin. How did it come into being? This certainly does not need to relate to real life (or whatever view you hold on our own planet), but if a world’s origins are too strange to understand, your story may find a limited audience.
Perhaps your world has no known origin. It simply exists, and that’s all there is to it. Keep in mind that unless something is eternal, it must have a beginning point, and it must have a cause. Even if you, as the author, have not determined how it came into existence, it isn’t plausible to say that it simply does exist without attaching the eternal property to it.
If you determine that your world is not eternal, consider what forces shaped its existence. Was it a random mix of elements? Did scientists or aliens create it? (I’m giving a nod to Larry Niven’s Ringworld even though it’s science fiction.) Was a god or gods behind the creation? Intelligent versus non-intelligent design can have a huge impact upon what your world is like.
Now, suppose that you decide on a responsible party for the world beyond chaos. Why does the world exist? What was it intended for? If it was intelligently designed, what is the character of those who did the creating? A world created by an evil god would be vastly different from one created by a benevolent god, and a world created by lazy, apathetic gods would be even more unique.
A world’s origin is the first block in building. It may not be necessary to explore everything to the subatomic level, but your story may depend upon that world’s dawn of time to some degree. Your characters may not know this origin (or maybe only certain ones do), but it will affect them. Consider this step before jumping on to the physical aspects of your world.
In this first article, I want to focus on the world’s origin. How did it come into being? This certainly does not need to relate to real life (or whatever view you hold on our own planet), but if a world’s origins are too strange to understand, your story may find a limited audience.
Perhaps your world has no known origin. It simply exists, and that’s all there is to it. Keep in mind that unless something is eternal, it must have a beginning point, and it must have a cause. Even if you, as the author, have not determined how it came into existence, it isn’t plausible to say that it simply does exist without attaching the eternal property to it.
If you determine that your world is not eternal, consider what forces shaped its existence. Was it a random mix of elements? Did scientists or aliens create it? (I’m giving a nod to Larry Niven’s Ringworld even though it’s science fiction.) Was a god or gods behind the creation? Intelligent versus non-intelligent design can have a huge impact upon what your world is like.
Now, suppose that you decide on a responsible party for the world beyond chaos. Why does the world exist? What was it intended for? If it was intelligently designed, what is the character of those who did the creating? A world created by an evil god would be vastly different from one created by a benevolent god, and a world created by lazy, apathetic gods would be even more unique.
A world’s origin is the first block in building. It may not be necessary to explore everything to the subatomic level, but your story may depend upon that world’s dawn of time to some degree. Your characters may not know this origin (or maybe only certain ones do), but it will affect them. Consider this step before jumping on to the physical aspects of your world.
Monday, November 20, 2006
Watch Your Language
In writing fantasy, more than likely we find ourselves developing a world with more than one culture and more than one language. As writers, if we invent languages just as we do characters, there are a number of ways to use those languages effectively. This article focuses on three approaches I’ve seen and used.
One of the more common elements I see with language invention is to refer to the language by its name but never use words directly from that language. For example, I could write: I couldn’t understand anything he said, for the elf spoke in ìloâ. It’s like a character without dialogue. I can describe how the language sounds, what it may look like on paper, but I won’t give a single word of it to the audience. The key thing is not to be so simplistic in this approach so as to make the reader think you’re just too lazy to flush out actual words from the language.
A second approach is to create what you need and nothing more. With this, you let a character say or read some strange words, and that utterance is probably all you’ll ever invent for that language. Even though but a few words are relayed to the reader, there should still be a consistency to the fragment of the language revealed. The words should sound (or look) like they go together. There should also be a reason to use this approach versus the first one, other than to just throw some nonsensical expression out there. I’ve done this to be cute, but cute didn’t get me published.
My favorite approach, depending on time available, is to go the whole hog and create a base for the new language. Certainly it seems unreasonable to sit down with a dictionary and translate every word, but I do have a few suggestions for a startup kit. First, I highly recommend learning a foreign language. This helps train the mind to think differently about linguistics and will give you a broader language base to borrow from. Second, start with the small everyday words like personal pronouns and greetings. Third, as you create verbs, conjugate them to your personal pronouns in a manner relative to your language. Finally, put together some simple phrases, like: I am going for a walk outside. Or: That dwarf’s head will make a fine paperweight. Make sure all the words sound like they go together. Imagine how characters sound while speaking in that language, even before you begin creating it. As you need additional material for your stories, follow the pattern of your base. Be sure to keep your language document broken into groups so that you can easily find the words you’re looking for later.
Languages add depth to a fantasy story, and I highly recommend inventing them in order to better show the differences between disparate groups of people/races. We must be responsible with them, though. Hinting at another language without giving any specifics makes it seem completely implausible while writing paragraph after paragraph in an invented language can aggravate the reader. Let’s choose our words wisely.
One of the more common elements I see with language invention is to refer to the language by its name but never use words directly from that language. For example, I could write: I couldn’t understand anything he said, for the elf spoke in ìloâ. It’s like a character without dialogue. I can describe how the language sounds, what it may look like on paper, but I won’t give a single word of it to the audience. The key thing is not to be so simplistic in this approach so as to make the reader think you’re just too lazy to flush out actual words from the language.
A second approach is to create what you need and nothing more. With this, you let a character say or read some strange words, and that utterance is probably all you’ll ever invent for that language. Even though but a few words are relayed to the reader, there should still be a consistency to the fragment of the language revealed. The words should sound (or look) like they go together. There should also be a reason to use this approach versus the first one, other than to just throw some nonsensical expression out there. I’ve done this to be cute, but cute didn’t get me published.
My favorite approach, depending on time available, is to go the whole hog and create a base for the new language. Certainly it seems unreasonable to sit down with a dictionary and translate every word, but I do have a few suggestions for a startup kit. First, I highly recommend learning a foreign language. This helps train the mind to think differently about linguistics and will give you a broader language base to borrow from. Second, start with the small everyday words like personal pronouns and greetings. Third, as you create verbs, conjugate them to your personal pronouns in a manner relative to your language. Finally, put together some simple phrases, like: I am going for a walk outside. Or: That dwarf’s head will make a fine paperweight. Make sure all the words sound like they go together. Imagine how characters sound while speaking in that language, even before you begin creating it. As you need additional material for your stories, follow the pattern of your base. Be sure to keep your language document broken into groups so that you can easily find the words you’re looking for later.
Languages add depth to a fantasy story, and I highly recommend inventing them in order to better show the differences between disparate groups of people/races. We must be responsible with them, though. Hinting at another language without giving any specifics makes it seem completely implausible while writing paragraph after paragraph in an invented language can aggravate the reader. Let’s choose our words wisely.
Thursday, November 16, 2006
One World To Rule Them All
Fantasy writers have a couple of options with world building. One option is to create one world so that all stories take place in this same environment. Different stories may take place in different locations or times, but it’s still in the same world. A second option is to build multiple worlds where one or more stories take place in one or more worlds (a little bit of my data modeling as a programmer is coming through here). In this article, I am not going to debate the issue. I’m simply going to write about what I know, which is using one world for all stories.
I’ve heard a number of arguments against the one world philosophy, but there are a number of advantages with this type of world building. The most important reason in my mind is that each story builds the same world. Regardless of whether a story is ever published, you can use it for background material later. I’ve heard some people term this as lore (as in folklore). If you find something that absolutely didn’t work, disregard that piece and remove it from your world. So long as it wasn’t published, you can’t go against yourself (and to a degree you might not care if you do).
Second, if you write for years upon years for this one world, it’s going to have a depth that is instantly available to each story you write. That’s not to say you need to probe those depths with every story, but since it’s there, it can save you the time of having to reinvent the wheel for each story. For those of you who do a bit of mapmaking when you write (I hope that I’m not some sort of odd-ball because I do it), save your cartographic creations and apply them to each story. Now you’re able to see your high-level settings ahead of time.
On my final point, I will deflect the strongest attack against the one world: the lack of creativity or overall boredom in reusing the same world. Creativity can exist because there is always something left undiscovered. Think about our own world. There is such a vast history that there are thousands of books covering past events, from an epic level down to the personal stories. Our world cannot be exhausted, at least not by a single writer in one lifetime. Why should your world be any different?
As always, use what works for you. I’m just giving some of my thoughts and explaining why I think as I do. In another ten years, I might completely change my mind, but for now I’m all for one world.
Feel free to post your thoughts on one world versus multiple worlds. What’s your preference?
I’ve heard a number of arguments against the one world philosophy, but there are a number of advantages with this type of world building. The most important reason in my mind is that each story builds the same world. Regardless of whether a story is ever published, you can use it for background material later. I’ve heard some people term this as lore (as in folklore). If you find something that absolutely didn’t work, disregard that piece and remove it from your world. So long as it wasn’t published, you can’t go against yourself (and to a degree you might not care if you do).
Second, if you write for years upon years for this one world, it’s going to have a depth that is instantly available to each story you write. That’s not to say you need to probe those depths with every story, but since it’s there, it can save you the time of having to reinvent the wheel for each story. For those of you who do a bit of mapmaking when you write (I hope that I’m not some sort of odd-ball because I do it), save your cartographic creations and apply them to each story. Now you’re able to see your high-level settings ahead of time.
On my final point, I will deflect the strongest attack against the one world: the lack of creativity or overall boredom in reusing the same world. Creativity can exist because there is always something left undiscovered. Think about our own world. There is such a vast history that there are thousands of books covering past events, from an epic level down to the personal stories. Our world cannot be exhausted, at least not by a single writer in one lifetime. Why should your world be any different?
As always, use what works for you. I’m just giving some of my thoughts and explaining why I think as I do. In another ten years, I might completely change my mind, but for now I’m all for one world.
Feel free to post your thoughts on one world versus multiple worlds. What’s your preference?
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