Tag: worldbuilding

There once were a bunch of WriMos…

I participated in my first writers’ group this weekend.

I attended a writers’ luncheon a few years back, but I would not say I participated.  For one thing, it was supposed to be a potluck, but besides my Pineapple Stuff (pineapple bread pudding, my usual what-the-hell-to-bring fallback), and perhaps some cheese and crackers, the other writers only brought coffee and wine.  I made a joke about how we as writers are supposed to avoid clichés, not live them, and was met with an awkward silence.

And then things got a little weird.

A few people stood up and read or recited some of their poetry.  Now, I love good poetry.  I don’t really get it—I fear I’m as deep as a mud puddle—and I can’t write it.  I can do a pretty good Robert Service type story with rhyme and cadence, and I can turn out a dirty limerick without a second thought, but real, true poetry is something I can only gaze at from afar.  If I hear a poem about a tree, I don’t think, “Wow, what a beautiful representation of the meaning of life well lived.”  I think, “Trees.  I like trees.”

The stuff my fellow writers were spouting left me sitting in the corner with that odd expression you get on your face when you’re sitting in a German pub and everyone else is smoking and speaking German, and you do neither.  Then someone got up and dragged in a tree branch they’d splattered with paint and strung with wire, beads, and what appeared to be a voodoo doll.  I took my empty casserole dish and never looked back.

But this group was different.  It was a local NaNoWrimo thing, and they were singing the song of my people.

NaNoWriMo, for those of you cursedly sane folks who have never heard of it, is an exercise in frustration, insanity, art, and the neglect of all things domestic.  The official definition is:

NaNoWriMo

National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo) is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to creative writing. On November 1, participants begin working towards the goal of writing a 50,000-word novel by 11:59 PM on November 30.

You can learn more about NaNoWriMo here: http://nanowrimo.org/about

But I stand by my words.  NaNoWriMo is great for the coffee industry and possibly the whiskey industry, but not so great for family members who wish to be fed, driven to school, or spoken to during the month of November.

Yeah, yeah, cry me a river.

We were back in the woods, away from normal humans, just the way I like it.  Everyone spoke of their projects for November, and I really hope everyone finishes their stories because some fabulous ideas were presented.  Someone gave a little speech about worldbuilding, a topic new and fascinating to those who write literary fiction; we spoke of characters and plot, tension and frustration, exciting hooks and sagging middles.

I find that speaking with other writers is almost a meditative experience; I left feeling grounded, and validated, and excited about this year’s NaNoWriMo.

I will be working on Heart of the Forbidden City, Book 2 of Song of the Sun Dragon.  I will be drinking a lot of coffee, talking to myself, and probably losing a bit of sleep.

I will not be doing laundry.

 

Jai tu wai,

 

Debi

Worldbuilding in Fantasy: Hunting Mad Honey

First, a disclaimer: I am pretty much full of hot air, so take everything I say here with a grain of salt.  I am, after all, aspiring to be a professional liar.

I would like to examine worldbuilding, because this is a topic that a lot of readers and writers of fantasy find fascinating, and because it’s something I enjoy.  By ‘enjoy’ I really mean ‘obsess over as only a geek can’.  Visiting other writers’ new worlds and midwifing my own from the nether-goo…oh yeah, baby, that’s the stuff.  That’s the magic powder and I can’t get enough of it.

So here I am, a green belt at best, pontificating on how to build worlds for your fantasy writing.  Again, hot air.  I’m not going to tell you how to build a world, or even (in much detail) how I build my world. I’ve been working on Atualon and the surrounding countries for quite some time now, and it’s been more an off-the-beaten-path meander than a forced march with guaranteed conquest at journey’s end.

And that’s why I’m not going to tell you how to build a world.

…Wait, what?…

There are a fucktillion other articles and books out there about worldbuilding, and particularly about worldbuilding for fantasy.  Brent Weeks has done it, Nnedi Okorafor has discussed her worldbuilding in interviews, and so has Pat Rothfuss.  Brandon Sanderson, praise his generous heart, has myriad tutorials on the web that address the issue.  I’m not going to include links, because if you wander around the internet looking for this kind of stuff you are likely to find something even cooler and more useful, and who am I to hamper your destiny?  Besides…if you’re reading this, you probably have access to a search engine, and if you’re too lazy to do your own research I can’t help you.

These fine folks, who are all more experienced than and perhaps not as full of hot air as I am, will tell you to figure out coinage systems and architecture, flora and fauna, religious and magic systems…yes.  Do that.  It’s interesting, it’s cool, it’s necessary.

…But wait, there’s more…

Brandon Sanderson, in a recent interview (this is me still not providing links) mentioned that he does not think writers have yet scratched the surface of epic fantasy.  I hollered “YES!” and startled my dog.  Because there’s more.

Now, I love a big stone castle as much as anyone, rabbit stew after a long day’s ride, and good old-fashioned wizards with their pet crows (or owls).  I can watch the Rohirrim ride downhill and smash into the enemy forces three times a day and never get tired of it.  And who doesn’t love a folded-steel broadsword?  Especially if it’s got a name?  That’s all good stuff.  Arthurian legend from a new point of view?  Yes please, and a side order of Fae magic to go.

But there is so much more to our world and our world’s history than the Lady of the Lake and brooding castles made of stone, there are more stories than the rise of Christianity and the fall of Rome.  Werewolves and zombies and vampires?  Yes!  But what else have you got for me?

In building my world, I wanted something different.  Not necessarily more, or better, just…a different flavor.  Squid curry instead of rabbit stew.  Tournaments that are more closely related to World Wrestling Federation cinema than to the gladiator pit.  Matriarchy in the desert…and humans that are not within reach of the top of the food chain. Pemmican.  Potlatch.  Naked people stranded in olive trees.

Inspiration for worldbuilding is everywhere.  I could spend (have spent) entire days watching BBC and National Geographic specials on everything from super volcanos to clouded leopards to radioactive wolves and hallucinogenic honey.

Okay, I’m actually going to share a link for this last, because these Nepalese honey hunters could give our Navy SEALs a run for their money, in sheer what-the-fuck-dude-machismo.  Seriously:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y_b2i_FvYPw

Read about the Black Death: how it spread, how it affected whole societies, how it altered the course of history.  Read about portable blacksmith forges used during America’s civil war, farming with water buffalo, the growth cycle of a bamboo forest.  Types of coins used by humans, medicinal plants, implements of torture.  Imagine using a trebuchet to fling a rotting cow’s carcass into a city you’ve besieged.  You know you want to do it.  Because flinging a rotting cow into the enemy’s town square.

Okay, one more link: The French Knight’s Guide to Trebuchets.

http://thisiskira.com/portfolio/trebuchet-tech-illustration/

And go as far off the beaten path as you can go…venture into South America, into Italian tombs and Indian temples.  Please, take the journey, and create new worlds of wonder and brilliance.

And then sell me a ticket.  I’d love to come along for the ride.

Jai tu Wai,

Debi