Building a World One Question at a Time

Believable worlds are built by asking where, why, how, and what happens next, then following each answer a little deeper into the story.

When people imagine writing a book, I think they picture someone sitting in front of a keyboard waiting for inspiration.

For me, it looks a little different.

It looks like questions.

Lots of questions.

Some are small.

Where would kids actually ride their bikes after school?

Would they always take the fastest route, or the most interesting one?

If a trail had been there for years, why hadn't they noticed it before?

Other questions are about the world itself.

What changes after a spring rain?

How long does a muddy trail stay muddy?

Which trees lose their leaves first?

How far does the sound of a creek carry through the woods?

Then there are the questions that quietly shape everything else.

Would this old fence still be standing twenty years from now?

Would someone have repaired it?

Or would nature slowly reclaim it?

Most of these questions never appear in the books.

Readers won't find characters discussing how long a puddle takes to dry or why one trail curves around a hillside instead of climbing over it.

But I still ask.

Because every answer makes the world feel just a little more believable.

Photography taught me to think this way long before I started writing.

When I'm out with my camera, I constantly ask questions.

What happens if I wait another ten minutes?

What if I move ten feet to the left?

What changes after the storm passes?

Sometimes the best photograph isn't waiting somewhere else.

It's waiting for me to notice something I almost walked past.

Writing has become much the same.

I don't begin by asking, "What's the next exciting thing that happens?"

I begin by asking, "Why would this happen here?"

One question almost always leads to another.

If the boys discover an old landmark...

Who built it?

Why was it left behind?

Has anyone else found it?

Would they recognize its importance?

Each answer opens another door.

And every new question makes the world a little deeper.

I've discovered that believable worlds aren't built all at once.

They're built one question at a time.

Maybe that's true outside of books, too.

The more questions we ask about the world around us, the more interesting it becomes.

Perhaps adventure isn't waiting for better places.

Perhaps it's waiting for better questions.

Continue the Journey

For a look at the research and planning readers will hopefully never have to think about, read The Things You’ll (Hopefully) Never Notice.

For one of the tools I use to answer those worldbuilding questions, read Sketching the Map.