[Image ID: a photo of the world from space with a yellow Under Construction sign on the center.]

I. Love. World. Building.

From zeroing in on the vital elements of real-life settings to creating new worlds from whole cloth—world building is one of my favorite things about being a writer and a strong suit of mine as an editor.

World building encompasses a vast array of elements, from architecture and landscape to laws and customs to history and technology. These things (and more) influence the way our characters behave, the decisions they make, and the consequences of their actions. And world building impacts everything from plot to dialogue to character relationships.

Perhaps more than anything, effective world building influences how readers visualize scenes as they read. It also helps readers make sense of the story itself.

World building is a vital device for all genres, including memoir and narrative nonfiction.

Of course, more world building is often required the further a setting is from our current reality. But genres firmly rooted in the real world also benefit tremendously from robust and intentional world building.

Consider memoir. Suppose the author writes about their childhood in a small, midwestern farm town in the 1950s. If a reader isn’t familiar with that time and place, they won’t grasp certain nuances unless the author uses dialogue and prose to “build” the world.

Think about the social norms within that small town that impacted the way things were done: were deals made with a handshake and Friday nights reserved for high school football? Consider also how a lack of density influences the way people move through their surroundings. And don’t forget the seemingly small details like the smell of exhaust from a passing tractor. That’s all world building.

Even for a reader familiar with small town life, there are details about the author’s particular small town that the reader still needs to know to fully understand the context of the memoir. Perhaps everyone in the author’s community knew that crossing the rickety wooden bridge over the river risked life and limb, and that nothing opened until after church let out on Sundays.

The details you use to build the world of your story help bring your reader in and keep them invested all the way through the final page.

Between the Lines