One of the most ubiquitous pieces of writing advice is “write what you know.” That seems to be one of the first lessons aspiring writers encounter, and it’s great advice—if you take some time to think about what it means.
At its most basic level, “write what you know” explains the appeal of legal thrillers written by practicing lawyers or murder mysteries written by real-life medical examiners. It explains why some novels and films brag that they’re “based on a true story” and why we love to read the memoirs of people who’ve triumphed over adversity or achieved something significant .
If you’ve lived an exciting life or you can give readers a glimpse into an interesting profession, writing what you know—taking your experiences and knowledge and turning them into a story—makes sense.
But what does “write what you know” mean to a fantasy author? When the world you write about exists only in your imagination—when you’ve thought about that world but you could never actually live there—should you just forget about writing what you know?
Of course not. Instead, writing fantasy means expanding the definition of what it means to “know” something.
The first and most basic way of knowing something well enough to write about it is through doing your research. I don’t believe in demons, for example, but I’ve got pages and pages of notes about them. Understanding what demons have meant throughout history, how they’ve been portrayed and perceived, helps me write about them as though they’re real.
Deadtown’s protagonist, Vicky Vaughn, kills demons for a living. Her friends are zombies and vampires, and she dates a politically correct werewolf. Vicky herself is one of the Cerddorion, a race of shapeshifters who trace their lineage back to the Welsh goddess Ceridwen. Vicky’s life is way more exciting than anything I’ve ever lived. I’ve never gone out with a werewolf. I’ve never fought a demon. I’ve never tried to talk sense to a zombie or sat down to drink a Bloody Mary with a vampire. And changing my shape means gaining or losing a few pounds, not sprouting wings or fur and becoming an entirely different creature.
I may not have had the same experiences as Vicky, but I connect with her on a number of levels. One level of connection is physical. In Deadtown, for example, Vicky works long hours and doesn’t always get enough sleep. I know how it feels to keep pushing when you’re tired because you want to finish something you said you’d do. In fact, all of Vicky’s physical feelings, from chilly October air on a flushed face to deep, toe-tingling kisses, are feelings I know well.
Another level of connection is dealing with people. I’ve never dated a werewolf with a passion for justice, but I do know how it feels to butt heads with a strong-willed partner. I know how it feels to love a sibling or friend even when you don’t agree with every decision that person makes. I know how it feels to deal with colleagues who seem to go out of their way to give you a hard time. We’ve all had to deal with a variety of people, and conflict is conflict—whether you’re experiencing it with a neighbor, a lover, or a demon.
I think the deepest level of connection is emotional. Although I haven’t lived the specific situations that Vicky encounters, I do know the emotions they arouse: love, hate, fear, anger, grief. As a writer, I try to call up those feelings and weave them into the fabric of my story. I’ve got my own stories, personal experiences that I’ll never write about directly, but I mine them for how they made me feel. And if I’m feeling the emotion while I write—tears running down my face, a racing heart—I know I’m doing my job.
Writing fiction—any kind of fiction, but especially fantasy—combines writing what you know with writing what you can imagine. Create a fantastical setting and populate it with fantastical creatures, but know what those characters feel on a physical, interpersonal, and emotional level, based on your own emotions and experience of the world. That’s the kind of knowing that brings characters to life. If you can connect with your characters in those ways—if you can make their feelings true and real according to what you know—then readers will connect with them, too. And the most fantastical story will feel true, because it came from what you know.
~Nancy
WHAT FANTASY NOVEL OR SERIES FEELS "REAL" TO YOU? One commenter today will win a copy of Nancy's book - DEADTOWN!
2009
