While The Veil contains fantastical elements, it is set in our modern world. So I haven’t had to create physics or biology. I’ve had to keep a lot of the story rooted in reality so the reader can buy into it. But I realise this has created a problem.
My new work that I’m prepping for Nanowrimo is a fantasy set in another world. But I’m still thinking in terms of how machines work, how we fuel our vehicles, how our own history in Medieval society functioned. I realised last night that I’m severely limiting myself.
I don’t have a lot of experience in world-building. It’s also starting to dawn on me that I haven’t exercised my childhood imagination since, uh, childhood.
What a horrible thing we let go of. I watch my youngest son who is unhampered by my adult weight of bills, parenthood, social graces, etc. To him, no world is too far away, no imaginingĀ embarrassingĀ or too outlandish. I really need to get back to that. I want this book to fill readers with a sense of wonder and joy. Actually, I think even more than that, I want it to make me feel that way.
I suspect that this is the only way to make this story work. And I am desperate to make it work. As much as The Veil felt like the right book to write, this one feels like the book I must write. But it’ll only happen if I let go.