I was shoveling my driveway for the third time in twenty-four hours on Wednesday. A blizzard was sweeping across the upper Midwest, making up for the lack of snow we’d had so far this season. I was happy for its arrival.
I have a routine when clearing the driveway, first defining the edges, then pushing the snow outwards from the middle. It reminded me of the way I approached writing fantasy fiction, which is different than the way I write everything else. Sure, I do some brainstorming and furious writing, fleshing out characters, locations, and plot points. But for fantasy, I don’t really get writing the real story until I’ve defined every aspect of my new world. Until I’ve found the edges.
This can be a monumental task.
It also reminds me of how I used to color with crayons as a child (if I put some more thought into my daily routine, I would probably find other similar examples). I was a sloppy colorer. To help stay within the lines, I’d draw parallel to the border of the image I was filling in. My coloring area defined, I would then scribble up to the edges, hopefully not crossing over. My finished work was generally neat, if somewhat rigid. It also took me much longer than the other kids.
That’s how I work in fantasy. I need to rigidly define the aspects of my world before I can start filling in the story. Most of my other tales take place in the real world, requiring far less definition. In fantasy, I need to know the limitations of my realm, which really seems counter-intuitive for a story that is designed to exist completely outside our own.
This is why I feel it takes me too long to get anywhere with my writing in this particular genre. There is too much to define and the story never gets a real chance to be written. Here’s a quick list of the things I like to create first:
Races, political history, creation myths, alphabet and language, folklore, weapons, armor, architecture, landscapes and geography, clothing and fashion, fighting styles, music and poetry, racism, and heroic legends
That’s a lot of detail to develop before the main character puts on his gauntlets to begin the hero’s journey. Even though some story ideas will blossom from this world-creation, honestly, I’m never going to get anywhere. But I really, really enjoy doing all of this, which is part of the trap. It’s exhilarating to play God in your own little world, even if the Devil is in the details.
One would correctly guess that I’ve never completed writing a full fantasy novel. It’s just been too big for me—too time-consuming. Starting maybe twelve years ago, I started working on one, an epic one, creating several maps, dozens of characters, and components of everything else on my aforementioned list. That’s about when Tolkien derailed me. I had heard of him, but never read Lord of the Rings or The Hobbit (I know! Fifteen points were deducted from my geek card and I lost my +5 armor.). I read both books and discovered that not only had he created a world and mythology like I wanted, he had done it very, very well.
I knew it would be a disservice to fans of the genre to write a novel that wouldn’t be able to sit on the same shelf as Tolkien’s work. I imagined my book sitting outside the fantasy section at the bookstore saying, “Please let me in. I’ve got Elves!” while a large troll barred the way with crossed arms and a paper shredder. I also realized I just wasn’t going to have the time to devote to my writing, especially while working a full-time job. Current Me does consider this a cop-out. So, eight or nine years ago, I put it aside, knowing that one day I would return to it.
Suddenly, I realized I’d stopped shoveling. I had clarity in the middle of a whirling blizzard.
To complete this novel, I must learn to work up to the edges of my written reality and cross over them, defining new margins as I go to give myself some flexibility. I will need to return to the imprecise style of my crayon-using years and get a little sloppy. I must persevere when I suddenly don’t know the history of the Dorin clan or the etymology of the Dwarvish language.
And then, riding the winds that howled along the streets and whistled through doors, came a familiar sound. Over the rising mounds of snow in the distance, strange figures began to appear. The giants were returning from their northern refuges. Dragons had returned to the world. My hero was tightening his gauntlets.
The creative gears in my head were turning again.
IMO, fleshing out the history of the world like that is great fun, and a great way to *avoid* writing. 🙂 (It works for game-mastering, too.) It also invites a danger unique to SF/F, that the writer will turn into a tour guide — “I came up with all this Cool Stuff, and I’m going to show it to you, whether or not the story needs it” can be very hard to resist. The characters end up visiting every single place pictured on the map in front, no matter how tortuous the route.
And of course Tolkien did it well. 🙂 Most of us don’t get to study linguistics and mythology as our day job, though.
Good luck with the new approach! I hope it works out for you.
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Avoiding is right! Good point about being a tour guide. I’ll keep that in mind as we approach the wood nymphs on the left.
Thanks for the comment!
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