Backstory
in which I realize I should be proud of what I've done this month
Dear Readers,
This past month’s work has been all about worldbuilding. Every July, the fine folks at World Anvil put on prompt-filled Summer Camp where writers like me get the chance to flesh out their fictional universes. And every July since 2020, I’ve used the event as an opportunity to build out the world that my next project, The Blood of Seven Queens, is set in.
This year, more than any other, it felt like I was able to zone in on particular bits of backstory that will be helpful to me as I write the second draft of Queens. For those don’t know or may not remember, I started the project with the notion it was going to be a novel. Then, with the thing still unfinished, my ideas for it began to get more and more visual. And suddenly I saw myself doing the graphic novel I’ve been meaning to do since college, and that I’ve been itching to do for the past five to ten years.
Because I know the gist of the story now, which I didn’t in 2020, 2021, or even last year in 2022, I was able to take the prompts that World Anvil gave me and use them to build out backstory for the parts of the novel/script where I knew I was struggling.
For instance:
Articles on The Battle of Frankburg Bridge and its hero Kester Thidos helped me understand a big event which shaped the cultures of the world I’m writing in—and helped me figure out a connection between my characters for Queens and the deeper history of the world.
An article on The City of Hearts helped me more fully realize what the capital city of my world looked like, and what it’s history was. “The Coronation of the Queen of Hearts” helped me understand what a scene I skipped over in the first draft might look like, and how it might play out.
“The Ceaseless Cyclone” and “Reekian London” were pieces that helped me figure out how I’m going to get Dorothy Gale and Alice of Wonderland into the story later on—and in a way that doesn’t break the continuity I’ve already established.
“The Love Letters of Grandmother Goose,” while also providing me with more than a few chuckles, established a potential plot point I can use if I get stuck while writing.
“Twister, Twist Her” gave me an original song/nursery rhyme for the children of my world to sing.
My article on Oscar Diggs, the so-called Wizard of Oz, helped me understand where the villain of my story came from and the events which shaped his tyrannical behavior.
“The Seven Wonders of the Post-Apocalyptic World” gave me places for my heroine to stop along the way during her journey, landmarks to use if I get stuck in the muck and mire of the muddy middle of the book.
And, last but not least, “Rumapa Stitlskín” helped me to figure out the backstory of an important figure from the first draft who I want to be even more important in draft #2.
What’s crazy is that when I sat down to write this letter to you this morning, I was afraid I’d have no news to report, and that I should be embarrassed. But that—what I just wrote above—is a lot, right? That’s a lot for one month. And I should be proud. I should be proud, shouldn’t I?
I’ll work on that.
See you next month (or next week, if you’re a paid subscriber).
Yours,
Chris