Class is in Session: Geography 101 for Fantasy Writers
By: Atlas Sallow
Tags: Fantasy Writing, Maps, Worldbuilding, Fantasy, Writing Tips

In fantasy, anything is possible.

Floating cities, dragons and mystical beasts, palms that can conjure roaring flames — your fantasy world can be anything and more. Perhaps you’re a fan of fantasy for that reason; you enjoy the lack of logistical restraints. However, even in fantasy, a genre that allows for incredible things, there are certain elements of realism that are necessary to maintain the illusion of your setting’s corporeal existence.

Map-making is a widely expected practice when it comes to fantasy writing; it comes with the territory. It’s by no means necessary to make a map should you not be interested in doing so, but if you do intend to give your readers a physical representation of your world, there are some things you definitely don’t want to get wrong.

First thing’s first:

NO COAST TO COAST RIVERS.

If a river flows from one coast to the other, that’s not a river; it’s more likely to be part of a sea, and the land it’s dividing are two separate masses. Likewise, rivers don’t flow from ocean to ocean; rather, they have a point at which the gather from a high elevation and then flow towards lower elevations. It’s incredibly unlikely that your continent or country is one massive incline that pushes the flow of the river from one side to the other.

On the same note, because rivers flow downward with the pull of gravity, rivers don’t split; they converge, or join together in order to create a singular, larger stream. Ultimately, a river’s primary goal is get to a larger body of water, like the ocean, and thus it will take the path of least resistance to do so. This means that if two rivers are flowing near one another, one or both of them will divert to whichever path gets them moving downward the fastest.

In my experience, the best place to start drawing rivers is within mountains. The precipitation — be it rain, melted snow and ice, or a combination of the two — will flow from the mountain down to the lowest point, which will inform not only potential water sources, but also the varying elevations of your land mass.

On the topic of rivers and bodies of water, it’s also important to note that lakes will usually only have one river that leads off into the ocean. As mentioned before, rivers tend to take the path of least resistance, and thus it’s unlikely for there to be two lowest points instead of just a single stream downward.

On Mountains:

Just like rivers usually join together, the same applies to mountains — nature’s favorite polygamous points. Mountains will almost never be off by their lonesome, as mountains are created by the shifting of tectonic plates, which means that they’ll always arise in ranges and not as singular peaks.

If you take a look at mountain ranges on the world map, you’ll see what I mean. From the Himalayas, to the Andes, to good ole Appalachia, Earth’s mountains have formed in clusters; thus, unless explained by some magical or supernatural occurrence, your natural stone skyscrapers should never be solitary.

Another common mistake when it comes to etching mountains into maps is that many writers will place lush, forested land on both sides of a mountain or mountain range.

The rain shadow effect explains how mountains will usually have one lush side, while the other is dry and arid. In layman’s terms, dominant wind flow will carry moisture towards the mountain range, usually blowing from the ocean, and that side of the mountains will become ideal for plant growth, while the other side of the range will be blocked off from that moist air and thus become dry.

Typically, the wet side of the mountains will face the coast, but this isn’t always true. The amazon rainforest in South America is on the inland side of the Andes Mountains, while the coastal side appears quite parched.

On Climate:

This brings us to the point of climate, and how many writers have a tendency to put vastly different climates far too close together.

A tundra is not going to be directly north of a desert, and a temperate, deciduous forest will not suddenly become a tropical rainforest if you ride a few miles down the road. Even if your world doesn’t abide by the laws of our Earth’s equator, pay attention to how and where climates shift to determine how much distance should reasonably stretch between them.

Again, if your story contains a magical or perhaps even technological reason opposite climates would be close together, that’s different, but if you’re looking to make your setting as realistic as possible (yes, realism has its place, even in fantasy) it’s important to learn to keep track of these facets of your environment.

On Character and Setting Logistics:

A character’s physical environment can affect both their temperament and the customs and culture of their region. How your characters experience their environment depends on exactly where they’re settled, and the geography of your setting will dictate that.

The most common mistake I see in association to this point is too many folks putting large scale settlements or cities in areas with little to no access to water. An immediate source of water is critical for a settlement’s survival. Aside from folks simply needing water to live, an immediate water supply is necessary for a load of other things, too:

You need irrigation for agriculture, because crops feed hungry mouths, and those hungry mouths belong to the citizens who work to turn a profit both for themselves and the city depending on how they’re taxed — citizens like farmers, who tend to the fields, or the soldiers that protect them. Armies need lots of food, and lots of food requires lots of water, and the more food they make and sell, the more money the city has, and the more money a city has, the bigger it might get, which means more people, which means more hungry mouths to feed, which means a growing need for more food, which means a need for more water.

Ya get what I’m saying here?

Access to food, water, shelter, and other natural resources might not seem like a vital detail for your story, but the reality is those things will drastically affect the quality of your characters’ lives and how the setting around them behaves. If their city is starving and low on food stores, it’s possible there could be an increase in thievery or trouble between citizens. If the noble population is hindering the common folks’ access to clean water, perhaps they’d have a conflict or riots on their hands. The circumstances of the world around your characters will directly influence the plot and how surrounding characters will behave in response to their environment, which is what makes setting details so important.

Speaking of characters making choices based on where their live, keep in mind that many cities back in the day — should your story be taking place in a past analogue — were not planned out as they are now. Cities wouldn’t fit evenly on a rectangular or geometric grid; rather, the original city would sprawl and spread outward as the population grew, creating a much more chaotic and less orderly map of the city.

In addition, the placement of citadels and fortresses was strategic. Generally speaking, the primary fortress of a city will be built on higher ground. Higher ground makes invasion and attack more difficult, not to mention high elevation makes for easier aerial views and assaults.

The goal was to dissuade or delay enemy attack by making it difficult to get to them, which is also why port placement was so crucial. Many fantasy writers jump to place their port cities on a long, open coastline, but no founder worth their salt would do such a thing.

Ports are far more likely to be positioned closer inland within a bay or an inlet — somewhere that doesn’t make for easy attack by sea. In addition to whatever defenses might’ve been built and placed out in the waters off the shore to discourage naval attack, the land around the port provides a bit more natural protection and less opportunity for a large number of ships to reach the port quickly.

On Scale:

As far as biggest new map-making mistakes go, I’d say the most frequent one I see (other than rivers) is trouble with scale. Obviously, it’s difficult to determine exactly how big a nonexistent land mass is, but no matter how big you decide to make your city, country, or continent, the key to realism in your setting is consistency.

Use real world references and decide on a scale. For the most part, it can arbitrary at first, but whatever scale you choose for your map needs to remain a constant, especially if characters in your story will be traveling long distances. Otherwise, the readers might pick up on the discrepancies and feel as though they traversed similar stretches more quickly or more slowly depending on what the plot calls for.

My advice? Decide on a real-world equivalent for distances between your key cities and locations. Use more populated areas for metropolises and kingdoms and farm lands or low-population regions for the more sparse places in your setting. If you are in fact creating an analog of the past, perhaps take some time to research the population of certain areas around the period closest to the one you’re emulating to get a better estimate of city size and density.

Of course, most fantasy writers — myself included — aren’t also geologists, but in the age of the internet, information about how the natural world works is much more easily accessible. We’re very fortunate to have so much knowledge at our finger tips; why not put it to good use?

That said though, don’t feel obligated to create some massive world if that’s not necessary for your story. You don’t have to design a map to go with your fantasy story if that’s not something you’re interested in, but if it is, also remember that you don’t have to worldbuild anything that isn’t directly tied with the story. If your characters will only be visiting two places, it’s completely acceptable to only worldbuild those two places and forego anything that isn’t relevant.

All in all, worldbuilding is a super fun and engaging way to practice a slightly different element of creativity amidst the writing process. It’s something I love to do — probably a little too much — and I look forward to hearing all about your worlds in the future.