PART 3: Dickinson’s Domains
Having compared two approaches to building a fictional multi-verse or microcosm, we can see strengths and weaknesses between them. Tolkien was focused, drawn down, and stylish, with painstaking attention to details of individual objects as his characters discovered them in a scene. Gaimen allows the alternate worlds and their accompanying distortions of time not only to become integral parts of the story but, sometimes, to dictate the narrative. When I began writing the world my characters would one day inhabit, I made the conscious effort to create a domain that could live and breathe without the interference of my characters.
I set off on my journey into that world when I was twelve years old, typing away on the family computer. The atmosphere generated in the monochrome, Lotus 1-2-3 lighting began to fill with character descriptions—their likes and dislikes materialized next to height, weight, and weapon of choice. I wrote their names for the first time, solidifying them in a reality all their own. A cosmos born from a single spark of my young imagination flowered into a galaxy-spanning universe full of diverse life, waiting to be discovered. My willingness to write down every detail gave me freedom to explore the crevices of the universe I had germinated and gave me license to move about unhindered by research of histories, religions, governments, and cultures.
With each new layer I was compelled to ask a greater scope of questions. How had this world come into being? Who or what did the denizens worship, where had their gods come from, how did time work? Did it matter if I answered those questions? Absolutely not! Should it matter to you? Your call.
There is no wrong way to accomplish world-building. For example, in my alternate world are gods and goddesses, as well as eldritch gods—gods beyond the perception of time and space. Here is an illustration from Chapter 52 of my upcoming novel, The Apostate Jester:
“Her mind focused on the missing piece of her soul that was dedicated to the goddess; and, with stark realization she knew that above all else, this was the one thing she needed. She was taught in the seminary that there were gods of good, pure light—kind, giving. And there were gods of darkness—vile, corrupt. But to have them come together in truce while facing something foreign, like a malignant tumor in the void of some distant, forgotten space, was something new. It was hard for her to comprehend. It made her question the balance of everything, her faith in the divine order of things, good versus evil, right versus wrong.”
At the beginning of this series, I offered the likeliest issue most fiction writers grapple with: “Where do I start?” If size seems daunting, start small: As Tolkien did, focus in on the characters and unfold the world around them as they, themselves, discover it for the first time. Or go Gaimen-wild: Build a galaxy of information inhabited by dozens of worlds, each waiting to be written about. Or begin with your own experience, expand on it, use the knowledge you gain every day to build a fictional realm within the tangible world you live in.
But start with a question. Any question. You can focus on a grain of sand: What color is it? Is it coarse or smooth? Does it belong on a beach somewhere or a desert? Does that beach have rocks? Are there cliffs nearby? Then ask the next question: Is this where your character starts his journey, or might it be the beginning of a world that suddenly blossoms into something greater? Eventually, you may find yourself in an enigmatic realm like the Space Between:
“It was hard to let his guard down anymore. Leo wondered if he would ever be able to let go, should they finally make it out of this situation. Everything he had ever known about the world seemed somehow insignificant while they traversed the Space Between. Every shadow held dangers; and since entering the monstrous tower, he felt even more on edge—as if millions of eyes were watching them” (Chapter 52 - The Apostate Jester).
There were no epiphanies during the process; however, I experienced an overwhelming sense of accomplishment as I added layer upon layer into the world I began to craft. I felt eager to jump in and cultivate that domain. Land masses shifted to make room for more islands and continents. Peoples, monsters, magics, gods, bloomed into entire gardens of lore and resources I could pull from.
Of course there were setbacks: hard drives fail, files become corrupted, whole sections are lost. But each time, I found it easier and easier to replace the missing portions because the world had already come alive—it could even mend itself whenever my meddling grew too destructive.
The process was not effortless. There were times when I had to step away to contemplate a particular need for a section of lore. And sometimes I forgot the brilliant idea by the time I sat down to type it out. Don’t let the frustrations of the process overwhelm you. Every step forward is an accomplishment.
As a rule, I would never suggest taking notes—it interrupts the creative flow. But it can be very useful during world building. Keep a small note pad with you and jot down ideas as they come to you, to be fleshed out later. Create a wiki page, or a compendium of your world.
Making manifestly untrue things believable and deep is a process that involves burrowing into your imagination. Be aware of your daydreams and use them to develop and expand the invented world you’re building. By expanding or contracting the boundaries of the cosmos your characters inhabit, you can choose the right size for yourself and your narrative. Let mistakes happen. Don’t be afraid to tear a world down and start over, keeping what you like. Imagination has no limits. Ask your own questions, expand on those I’ve provided. And in a galaxy that has no constant, realize that time is relative, there is no end.
Relax and enjoy the journey.
Take a captivating journey of creativity and imagination in the Arizona Author’s Association Workshop on world-building, designed for writers, storytellers, and enthusiasts eager to craft rich and detailed fictional worlds. Throughout the workshop, participants will delve into the fundamental elements of world-building, exploring intricate aspects such as geography, cultures, history, politics, and magic systems.
Engaging discussions and hands-on exercises will guide attendees in shaping unique and believable realms, fostering a deep understanding of the interconnected elements that breathe life into a fictional universe. Join us and unlock the building blocks to creating immersive and unforgettable fictional spaces.
Beginning at the age of ten, Arizona native Daniel Dickinson has spent a lifetime inventing realistic realms for his fictional characters. His fantasy world, Xonthian—created during his teen years—is an entire domain that allows his characters’ journeys to unfold in a diverse setting. He enjoys giving educational presentations about world-building and fantasy genres, in general. Daniel’s published works include the short story, Escape from Ogre Island; a two-story horror book, Don’t Close Your Eyes: Two Thrilling Tales of Terror; Aggression Factor; and Gathering Tide. Upcoming: The Apostate Jester. https://www.tigerforce.net/ https://www.amazon.com/author/ddickinson W
rite to Daniel at: danield@tigerforce.net
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