I’m currently writing stories set in three different worlds. Not at the same time, but one after another. First I write about Jo Harper, the young protagonist of an adventure series set in 1910 Wyoming. Then I write about Whit Branham, the matter-of-fact deputy sheriff living in Holt County, Nebraska during the 1880s. After that, it’s a story about John Coburn, a wandering gun with roots in the high plains but no permanent home other than the late 1800s. Then back to Jo.
Each character’s world contains a string of friends, foes, and familiar “landmarks” to help ground the reader in whatever new adventure unfolds.
And that’s where things get tricky. Really fast.
When I first started writing fiction, I outlined every bit of my stories, practically down to the sentence. In those days, world building wasn’t a separate concept from writing the story. In fact…I indulged too much in that part of it.
Years of comic book reading trained me well in lining up the continuity of my universe. (And if you’re familiar with Marvel or DC super heroes, in print or the current TV shows and movies, you know what I mean.) I planted, tended, and pruned family trees. I researched details and wrote ‘em in stone. I imposed traits on my characters like iron handcuffs.
For example, if my outline or bible said Biff was the stoic one, well then, Biff never smiled. If, by 1890, all Native Americans were supposed to be living on reservations, well then, my Indian character wouldn’t appear without a long-winded explanation as to why he wasn’t on the rez. Pretty soon, things got heavy.
And no fun.
So a couple years ago, I stopped outlining and started just writing stories. After all, the story was the fun part! So, writing without an outline. Some people call it pantsing, but I like what Dean Wesley Smith calls it: writing into the dark. For me, the story became the thing. And, like all of you know, the story often sweeps you along, taking you on its own merry way.
Along that road, the devil really is in the details. Especially when writing a series.
Does Jo Harper’s friend, Frog, have black hair or brown hair? What kind of gun does Whit Branham carry? What’s the name of John Coburn’s horse? Keeping track of details isn’t too hard for one story, but over the course of a series (and during several months in the real world), it can be tough.
First, I have an app on my phone that lets me record voice-to-text memos. So when I introduce a new character, I pick up the phone and say a little about him or her. That becomes a text message that I send myself and include in a story file. It’s quick and I don’t have to open a different program on my writing computer.
Second, I don’t worry about it. (That really would’ve seemed sacrilegious to me a few years ago.)
Please don’t misunderstand. I don’t mean I’m deliberately sloppy or that I don’t care. What I’m saying is, I’ve taken those iron handcuffs off my characters. In the real world, people change, settings change. The same holds for fiction. Details are important, but the story takes priority.
So what techniques do you use to keep things straight? How much weight do you put on the details of character or setting? Do you outline, or do you write into the dark?
I’d really enjoy hearing about similar experiences in world building from you Fictioneers.
After growing up on a Nebraska farm, Richard Prosch worked as a professional writer, artist, and teacher in Wyoming, South Carolina, and Missouri. His western crime fiction captures the fleeting history and lonely frontier stories of his youth where characters aren’t always what they seem, and the windburned landscapes are filled with swift, deadly danger. Read more at www.RichardProsch.com
After growing up on a Nebraska farm, Richard Prosch worked as a professional writer, artist, and teacher in Wyoming, South Carolina, and Missouri. His western crime fiction captures the fleeting history and lonely frontier stories of his youth where characters aren’t always what they seem, and the windburned landscapes are filled with swift, deadly danger. Read more at www.RichardProsch.com








































