Ah, worldbuilding—the sweet siren song of many aspiring writers. Why wouldn’t it be, Neophyte? How often have you found yourself lost in the realms of fantasy, constructing entire worlds within the vast confines of your imagination, only to see them crumble like ashes when your creative endeavor is complete? I, for one, have experienced this somber reality. There’s a certain grim allure to creating, only to discard and destroy. So, it’s no mystery that there’s a substantial niche of content creators who revel in exploring the meticulously crafted worlds of others. Tolkien, with his expansive Middle-earth, has even spawned “Tolkien scholars”—a delightful, if not slightly absurd, testament to the depth of his creation.

Worldbuilding is the perfect refuge when you’re gearing up to hone your craft. It’s dangerously easy to deceive yourself with thoughts like, “I must craft the world meticulously to ensure no detail is overlooked when I begin writing.” And who could blame you for becoming obsessed with the minutiae of this aspect of the craft? It’s simple, immediate, and endlessly fascinating. You might find yourself spending days or even weeks perfecting every little detail—nailing the intricacies of a culture—only to realize you’ve lost track of time. Suddenly, you’re so far behind schedule that the cramming sessions from high school seem like a walk in the park.

Come, Neophyte, join me and take a seat. Forgive the chuckle of this old soul, for I, too, have fallen prey to the enchantment of worldbuilding. The world—tell me, do you truly understand your connection to it? Yes, but not quite. The world influences you in ways you can’t fathom, and the same holds true for your characters.

I find it endlessly absorbing to design and write about far-distant kingdoms and magical realms. It’s even cathartic. But, like everything, moderation is key—especially if you’re serious about sitting down and writing that novel you’ve been endlessly talking about. Why not just write about all those magical places? Well, you can, but here’s the crux: if, at the end of the day, all you’ve been doing is building the world and not actually writing the story, you’ve essentially created a glorified travel guide with a sprinkling of sociology, biology, zoology, and history on the side.

Worldbuilding in the prewriting phase is a bit of a trap. If you’re enamored with worldbuilding, you may find yourself never stopping, and while loving the craft is fantastic, doing it out of vain obsession or self-deception is a mistake. It hampers your growth as an author, keeping you stuck in a single position. Also, just as you never truly stop worldbuilding, your characters naturally build the world as you write. You might discover moments where your characters face unconsidered challenges or realize certain elements should be present but aren’t. Learning about your story happens as you explore it through your characters. Much like a child in our world explores their surroundings through their senses, you will explore your creation through your characters, gaining a deeper understanding than you would through worldbuilding alone.

No, Neophyte, I don’t think an obsession with worldbuilding is inherently wrong. I only believe it becomes detrimental when done without purpose. Can worldbuilding be the point in itself? Absolutely. Works like “A Dove Takes Flight” or “Beyond the Ice Wall” exemplify storytelling centered around worldbuilding.

My warning, Neophyte, is to never lie to yourself. Don’t engage in an activity just to avoid another. Your work shouldn’t take precedence over the other simply because of insecurity. If your purpose is to write a novel and turn it into a profession, at some point in the near future, you must commit to sitting down and writing—not losing yourself in obscure genealogy from a minor baron in a peripheral province that’s only tangentially related to the plot.

Ultimately, it’s all about balance—understanding what’s important and what isn’t. Another crucial aspect of conducting most of the relevant (emphasis on relevant) worldbuilding in the prewriting phase is to ensure you know what you’re writing about. This enables you to explain and present it in an easy-to-digest manner for the reader. The last thing a reader wants is to deal with an info dump—a gigantic wall of text reminiscent of a school textbook rather than a novel with characters. Proper work at the start will save you a lot of problems down the line, allowing you to present the world through your characters and setting in a coherent, organized manner that flows well and doesn’t feel intrusive to the reader.

No, Neophyte, I don’t care how proud you are of your creative worldbuilding. If you’re proud, make it into a companion book where you present it as is, rather than jamming it into the gears of your novel. Why? Because info dumps bring the pacing to a halt and the narrative flow to stagnation. If it doesn’t flow, it rots, and if it rots, it isn’t alive, causing you to lose your readers.

Balance and proper work—those are the two keys to worldbuilding in the prewriting phase. As much as you consider the need to start writing, nothing prevents you from revisiting worldbuilding later, even beyond your novel. Just focus, Neophyte, for the love of God, focus.

Until next time

Hi, I’m Wulfric von Gute-Lüfte

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