Be the Rick Steves of Your Story World
When I was in grad school working on my MFA, I was deep into a revision of my YA fantasy manuscript. A compulsive worldbuilder, I had a full story bible – maps and geographies, histories of the world and the people and the places, timelines of major events, how trade and commerce and money worked, how society was structured into who was powerful and who was powerless, how people dressed and celebrated holidays, what they ate and drank…I could go on, but I’ll spare you. I kept all this in a mix of Microsoft Word docs and Excel spreadsheets, all collected in one desktop file labeled Story World.
So when my MFA advisor handed me an assignment to write a travel guide to my story world, I had two thoughts. First, easy. I’ve got my whole world figured out. Second, I’ve got my whole world figured out. This feels like a waste of time. But it was an assignment, so I did it.
And it completely changed how I looked at my story world.
Archivist vs. Guide
When I sat down to tackle the assignment, the idea of taking all this information and putting it into a 5-8 page document was overwhelming. How could I possible shrink down the dozens upon dozens of pages of worldbuilding work? What should I include? What should I leave out?
As I stared down my Story World file, I realized…I had built an archive. A comprehensive, 360-degree view of all aspects of my story world that was, ahem, not very user-friendly. As the archivist, it all made sense to me. But someone walking into this archive cold would be lost in minutes.
If I was going to crack this assignment, I had to think like a tour guide.
Enter Rick Steves
I love to travel. Back when I was an undergrad (let’s leave it at a while ago) I loved wandering around the travel section of my local Barnes and Noble. I pulled travel guides to Greece, Thailand, Australia off the shelves, flip through the pages, imagine jetting off to these places. There were the usual travel guide suspects – Lonely Planet, Frommers – offering thick compendiums of tourist sites and places to stay and eat.
And then there was Rick Steves.
His Europe guides had a totally different vibe. When you flip open a Rick Steves guide, it feels like he’s talking directly to you. Like he’s taking your hand and leading you around Paris, Prague, Positano. He’d point out his favorite little nooks and crannies only the locals know about. Introduce you to his favorite inn- and shopkeepers. Share his secret tips, like going counterclockwise around the Vatican to avoid crowds. His personable style did so much more that give you the lay of the land; it made the place he was writing about feel very real. Full of real people, real history.
I realized I needed a Rick Steves to help me write my travel guide. So I invented a character – a traveling merchant – and had him create a guide for his fellow traveling merchants. He wrote about the best cities to trade textiles in, the best cities to trade metals in. About his favorite places to stay and to eat. He explained to his fellow merchants about how the dock fees worked in this city, or that city, and which dock bosses could be bribed to look the other way and where you could get the best exchange rate. He wrote about areas to avoid because tensions were running high due to long-running disputes between different factions. I could go on but, again, I’ll spare you.
As I wrote the travel guide, my story world came to life in a way it never had before. It became a real place with real people and real problems. Where I had cold lists and timelines and zoomed-out maps, I now had neighborhoods and laughter and food. I had people struggling, people showing up for each other, people skirting laws to pocket a few extra coins in a harsh world.
I have a living, breathing story world.
And it wasn’t just because I’d Rick Steves-ed it. That may have shifted my perspective, but what this assignment really did was ask me to center the reader. To consider what their experience of this story world would be like. To make room for them.
Center the Reader
Anyone who works with me will hear me say some variation of ‘remember your reader’ over and over. Probably to the point that they want to slam their laptops shut. But centering the reader is what revision is all about.
When we draft, we’re telling the story to ourselves. We’re discovering our characters, our plots, our themes. When we revise, we’re getting our story ready for a reader. This requires us to step back and see our story as objectively as we can. Have we given them what they need to understand the story? Are we taking our reader by the hand and leading them through the story?
Some writers cringe at this, and think they shouldn’t have to center the reader – that the reader should center them and their vision and it’s on the reader if they get lost. But all this does is shut the reader out of the story. A book is a partnership between the writer and the reader. So be a good partner. Remember to bring the reader along for the ride. It’s what makes a manuscript a book to be shared, rather than a project by you, for you.
Not Just for Fantasy Writers
You don’t have to be writing speculative fiction to write a travel guide to your story world. This works just as well with contemporary realistic fiction.
Write a travel guide to your characters’ story world. Write out the directions to the best ice cream spot in town, the best coffee spot. List the best places in the local library to curl up with a book. The best place to go for a hike. The best place to buy a gift for your grandmother. Imagine yourself talking to someone who’ll be visiting that town, because that’s exactly what you’re doing - inviting someone into your story world so they can go on a adventure with you. So take them by the hand and guide them in.
Till next time…
Happy writing,
Erin
Photo credit: Timo Stern on Unsplash
