Reflection 4: Building a World With a Single Thought
By: Fantasy
Tags: Reflections, Worldbuilding, Process

I have often been asked, “How do you come up with your ideas?” This usually happens after someone has read something I write. People sometimes question how I make names, places, cultures, or concepts. Though it may be difficult, I am going to try to describe how I world-build for my writing projects.

Letters From Acolyte Hial (the title by which I call the Letters as you know them) is only my newest story made in a lost corner of a larger world and larger story I’ve been working on for years that evolved out of that ill-fated first writing attempt of mine. All of the world-building I have done for that project begins how all of my projects do, with a single idea.

“What if there was a culture who never learned to travel across the sea but instead there were magnet-oceans that they figured out how to cross?”

That’s the idea that began the Megiddo and the land of Megid. After the first idea is formed, I can build upon it and let more concepts snowball out of that first one. From that question came the idea of a magnet based society and the “lodesleds” as I call them. I understand I have not expanded much on the greater culture of the Megiddo, so consider this a peak behind the curtain with some advanced knowledge for the story (I’ll try not to spoil anything).

After I have the first few ideas, like lodesleds and magnets, I can then expand into other sections of the world. From magnetism, I got a lot of place and material names. Such as Feros being the super-magnetic metal that allows the sleds to hover. I used similar prefixes, like Ferro- from ferromagnetic and mag- or lode from magnets/lodestones, for various places and names. These include: Ferrosil, Eld-loddenir, lodesled, Magildon.

After I have used these prefixes too many times, I have two other processes I have developed to fill the gaps. I call them: Modification and Gobbledygook.

For words such as Megiddo, I modify existing words or concepts. The word Armageddon comes from the Plain of Meggido in Israel and the Hebrew Bible. With slight modification, like one “d” and two “g”s, it becomes a new word I can use.

Gobbledygook is the best way to describe the second half of my naming process. I literally throw phonics together until it makes something I like. Usually, I identify a certain type to use for that particular area. The names of Megiddo have a lot of hard consonants and “ahl”s, “ol”s, and “urn”s. Usually they have multi-syllable first names and very simple sounds for last names.

Take the name Ahsik Ghale for instance. Ah — sick. Two simple sounds that make a two-syllable name but spiced up with a slight altering of the spelling to make it seem inhuman. Ghale, which sounds like gale, a very strong wind, makes for a house or family name that fits the type. Its very simple, easy to say, and with slight modification, becomes a fantasy name not a wind.

Another way that Gobbledygook works is to start with a word or name and slowly alter it or add sounds. On one occasion I started with a word Tolkien made “Valar”. Val-ar, val-arc, val-ach, val-ochi, vala-cho, vala-kor, vala-cord, vala-chor, valach-kior, valak-chior. Then I have a name for a city, Valak-chior.

Those are the processes I use for names in stories I write, especially fantasy ones (my favorite and go-to genre).

Ideas can spiderweb as well as snowball. From a single idea, I can ask “How did this effect their history, their trade, their diplomacy, their wars, their ideals…?” and so on and so forth. Like a tree growing from a single seed, a whole nation can come from an idea about a mode of transportation.

This process, adamantly, is quite haphazard. It can stutter or require revision or become to close to an idea/name someone else used, but it fits me and especially my writing style perfectly. Ideas for stories also come from a single idea or an association between ideas. One concept effecting another, or conflicting with another. Stories build up off of initial ideas and eventually expand out, like a spiderweb, to birth new stories and new ideas. Just as one seed grows one tree, which grows a hundred seeds, which grows a whole forest, entire worlds can spawned from a single idea. It could be a question, a system, or even a sentence such as “In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit.”

I once heard that Tolkien, while grading an essay, scribbled that sentence into the margin (don’t quote me on this and do your own research). From there he had to answer “What is a hobbit and why does it live in a hole? What kind of hole? Is it a nice hole or a dirty one?” And answer he did. Tolkien made a whole new genre of story from a single sentence (I believe, don’t quote me).

One idea, one concept to expand on can create universes and galaxies of new things to explore, a infinite sand-box of new stories. All you have to do is say, “Why?”.

“Why does a hobbit live in a hole?”

“Why does Tony Stark need the suit?”

“Why is Superman so super?”

“Why did a baby defeat an incredibly powerful wizard?”

“Why does a civilization use magnets for transportation?”

“Why?”

And from there, it begins. And what begins is Storytelling.