Authors Series: It’s a small world after all: setting

[CharleyH]

Recently, Dr. M raised a question about theme (which spawned several threads) and it had me thinking, not only about theme, but a lot about Robert McKee's book, Story. One of the key things McKee writes is that "the first step toward a well-told story is to create a small, knowable universe."

McKee implies that many writers resist the structure/ setting relationship because authors typically like to think of themselves as having the freedom to write what they please. I grant him that because - lol - we are not unlike rebellious 14-year-olds.

He goes on to say that limitation is vital to any story and that "the world of story must be small enough that the mind of a single artist can surround the fictional universe it creates and come to know it in the same depth and detail that God knows the one he created. To paraphrase the rest, he says that by the time you finish your last draft you should have such a complete and thorough knowledge of your setting that there is no question that could be asked that you could not instantly answer. By small he means knowable and by knowable he means knowledge that is germane, which he says authors achieve daily.

Question: As a writer, how much do you know about your setting? If someone were to ask you something about setting in any of your stories, would you be able to answer without a second thought? (and, without making it up as you went along )

I began thinking about a Uni essay I wrote on Beckett's play Happy Days, indeed about most theatre of the absurd – form and content are inseparable – simplistically, in the specific case of this play, you cannot remove the setting/stage and still have a story or vice versa.

Similarly, Michel Foucault's essay, Of Other Spaces came to mind. It's been years since I read it, so my memory is a bit tainted, but aside from immediately thinking it brilliant, what I recall out of it was how intrinsic 'space' ie. location is (not only in a fictional world, but in the real world) and location in Foucault's sense extends beyond simply space, time and setting and into hierarchy. I believe that hierarchy, for one, is always implicit in the setting.

I've heard many writers say that they simply write whatever comes to them, which may be fine for a sexual scenario/fantasy, yet I truly believe that an author and that's with a big A, weaves his/her setting in such a way so as it is intrinsic to the telling of the story, indeed to the telling of a particular characters story and to that particular 'character' as a reflection of their traits.

Question: Your thoughts?

Share: Feel free to post sample of your settings, but also be aware that if you do, I also feel that critique of your setting should be equally allowed by anyone who wishes.

 

[gauchecritic]

The worlds in which I write are the modern world (cept for fairy stories and the Amurcan civil war) but I've had a couple or three PCs that mention seeable yet unknown settings. A sense of place without any particular foundation.

That may be because I'm still not yet sure what to include in stories and what is pertinent.

I'm not actually fond of description in stories that tallies with anything I know, if I have a place described it must be a place I don't know or aspects of a familiar place that I don't know exist.

In my writing the world is most often your own world. So much so that I feel like readers should know it anyway, except where it serves my story's purpose.

I've been accused of being 'bitty' or 'jumpy' when I write (not without reason) and this is a failure in my writing, sometimes it's a failure on the reader's part, but I tend to omit the obvious and reference the slightly obscure without explanation and the largest part of omission is in the setting.

 

[neonlyte]

Nice topic Charley, one dear to me. Much of my work springs from RL scenes, as a consequence the fiction is woven around real places. There is an except below from my novel set in Norway, it describes the destruction by fire of a 900 year old church, which is odd as I visited it in 2004, several years after it was destroyed. The destruction and subsequent rebuilding - with no explanation about the fire at the church - was enough to intrique me, to get me thinking about a story but it wasn;t until a subsequent visit to Norway when taken on a hike up the mountains and looking down onto a narrow finger of fjord accessed through a cleft in the mountain and virtually inaccesible from the main fjord that the story took on substantive form.

The story I'm just editing is largely set in St Malo, France - a place I've visited almost annually for thirty years. I was there last Autumn, quite ill at the time, and drawn to a church I'd never visited on the opposite bank of the river Rance. (Their is something odd about my being drawn to churches!) There are three photographs appended that might help to explain why I became driven to write this particular story about a young woman haunted by these same images and embarking upon a quest to uncover a mystery.

The statue of Christ is missing all limbs, WW2 damage I imagine and it is tucked away in this dark corner of St Enogat Church beneath the stained glass depicting Bishop Enogat reading the papal declaration establishing the diocese of Dinan. Dinan was sacked by mercenaries acting for William of Normandy in 1064 (paying attention Gauche) to pave the way for the subsequent invasion of England - the diocese was giving logistical support to Welsh and Scottish Christians. It was the third image that really triggered the story 'The Mirror of Justice'. Bizarre imagery from one relatively modern church.

In both of these works, all the settings are authentic. If I ever get them published readers could follow the trails of the characters right down to the little family hotel in use when visiting Paris. Settings underpin my writing. I'm driven to write fiction from fact.

Extract from 'Stains'

At Lysøen Island, he managed to surprise himself by recognising that all those years ago, he’d stayed in a cabin on the fjord edge opposite Ole Bull's then almost derelict villa. He remembered motoring across to the island with Carl, his room mate at the polytechnic, in a small launch, and wandering the then deserted grounds picking the tiny and fragrant wild strawberries growing in profusion along the edges of unkempt pathways.

He’s curious enough to be tempted inside the restored villa and joins a party of twenty, or so, for the guided tour. Even now, he consciously sets himself apart from the group, content to examine the furnishings and memorabilia of a career spanning continents whilst the guide intones the personal history of the musician, the house, and a life not lacking in a certain risqué endeavour. On his previous visit, they found the sad and dilapidated villa firmly shuttered against the elements, the now restored eggshell blue timber tracery and Moorish fretwork gracing the terrace had then looked faintly absurd both in its context and in its ability to resist the rigors of a Norwegian winter. Simon had wondered aloud about the origins of the villa and its owner: Carl, a Norwegian studying architecture with him back in England, had no answers other than it was the home of a musician. Between the pair of them, they decided it must be Grieg's home — one out of embarrassment at his lack of local knowledge and the other to demonstrate the boundaries of his embryonic cultural sagacity. Now Simon stood in the ornate drawing room of Ole Bull's villa musing on the courage and the fallibility of men. He took off along the paths around the island wanting to escape the half-imagined half-knowing gaze of the curious to see if strawberries still thrived in the undergrowth.

He took the regular bus to visit the Stave Church at Fantoft, following street signs from the bus stop to a tourist car and coach park before descending a well trodden path winding between towering trees to where the small church sat in a clearing cocooned in reverential tranquillity like the calm that envelopes the great cathedrals. He knew nothing about Stave Churches, other than what he’d gleaned from architectural books decades earlier, and was surprised by the smallness and intricacy of the building. Having photographed the church from every conceivable angle, he hung around waiting for the next guided tour hoping to learn more of the buildings heritage; he was sitting inside when the next party of tourists arrived.

The tour guide related an anecdotal history to the camera clicking assembly — largely Americans from their accents — linking the design of the church to the Viking era and the adoption of Christianity. She explained the Lutheran period in Norway’s religious history sprinkling her presentation with folkloric tales of prejudice — against women in particular. She told how mother’s bearing daughters were not allowed entry to the church for six months following the birth, and how the congregation was segregated, woman to sit on the north side ‘for everything evil comes from the north’. These anecdotes brought sniggers from the tour party and surprised Simon who didn’t care to hear such stereotyping perpetuated for the benefit of entertainment. He listened with an increasing degree of incredulity as she answered questions about the construction of what she implying this was a nine hundred year old building. The church was not the nine hundred years old, Simon knew this to be a fact, some timbers were weeping sap and nine hundred year old timbers do not weep sap.

When he first arrived at the church, the heavily tarred exterior had him momentarily taken in, but it only took him a few minutes to confirm the building to relatively new. Constructed for tourists is what he assumed, perhaps a copy of another church and conveniently located near to Bergen for the benefit of the hoards disembarking from the cruise ships for a taste of Norway. ‘Why pretend it to be an ancient’ he wondered, ‘when anyone with any wit can see it’s new.’ The guide wound up her time-weary presentation moving outside as the tourists wandered off, some to take pictures of the outside, others intent on discussing the merits of the lunch served on en-route, or to consult their mobile telephones.

“Excuse me, can I ask you some questions?”

“Sure.”

Her accent was mid-Atlantic rather than the clipped precise English of most Norwegians; maybe, Simon thought, she’d spent too much time with the tour parties.

“You gave the impression this was an ancient building, but it’s new, isn’t it?” Simon said, trying not to be too rude.

She looked slightly bemused, “well… yes, though it is exactly the same as the original.”

Simon knew it could never be the same, it lacked soul, it was a pastiche, clever, but none-the-less no more than a copy. “So this is a copy built for tourists I suppose. Where is the original?”

“It doesn’t exist any longer.” She hesitated, looking curiously at Simon as if trying to decide what to tell him. “The original church was built at Sogn, a long way from here. In the mid to late nineteenth century, the Norwegian Church decided to abandon the old Stave Churches and build new. The Norwegian Consul to the United States purchased this church, the Sogn Church…”

“You mean the original church,” Simon interrupted, “this is a new building, it’s not a church.”

She smiled, almost patronisingly, “The Sogn Church was purchased by the Norwegian Consul to the United States in the late nineteenth century and rebuilt here. The area around here was, for a time, a kind country park. The Church was used as a tearoom. It was abandoned for a while, then restored when… perhaps better sense prevailed, and we recognised as a nation the need to preserve our cultural heritage.”

“You and I must have a different idea of restoration. This building is new.”

“Yes… “ she said, finally confirming what Simon had known all along, “the original, the restored Sogn Church, was destroyed by arsonists in 1992, this building dates from 1995.”

Simon, growing increasingly impatient by what he regarded as something of a deception, said, “Well, why don’t you tell people that. I came out here expecting to see a piece of history, not a pastiche. Put a sign up, or something, rather than just pretend it’s an ancient monument.

“I’m sorry… that was bit rude,” Simon added; she looked slightly annoyed.

“It is not the proudest moment in our history,” she answered haughtily. “The destruction of Fantoft Church came as big shock to Norway. As a nation, we had no idea that we had nurtured such anti-social elements in our society. It is not something we wish to be reminded of, and certainly not something I wish to discuss with a visitor.”

She turned and walked away, calling her tour party to return to their coach.

He watched them go, almost sensing the relief in the breeze through the surrounding trees as tranquillity descended for a brief sojourn before the next party arrived. Simon wandered slowly away from the clearing feeling tricked, he’d gone to see history, he’d approached the church expecting a temple. What he got was a sham, not in the actuality but in the essence. As he climbed the fern-lined path back through the woods, even the shafts of sunlight piercing the tree canopy failed to disturb his feeling of shame about the presentation of Fantoft.

 

[CharleyH]

Thanks to you both. I have questions and statements, yet just bumping for now.

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Question: As a writer, how much do you know about your setting? If someone were to ask you something about setting in any of your stories, would you be able to answer without a second thought? (and, without making it up as you went along )

To me, setting is as much of a player in a story as any other element. I will not start writing without not only knowing my setting and my characters, but knowing why this story needs this setting instead of another and how the characters interact with their surroundings (and vice-versa). Maybe it's from writing poetry, or maybe it's because I actually read (), but I don't believe in the let's-type-and-see-what-happens approach to writing. Everything must have a reason. Everything must converge.

 

[amicus]

"...One of the key things McKee writes is that "the first step toward a well-told story is to create a small, knowable universe."

~~~

Then you reference Beckett and Foucault and since I have read some of your period pieces....eh...ahem....hmmmm....harumph....

In science fiction, you create your own universe, subject to the laws of nature. In science fantasy, you have no boundaries.

In a modern setting you may need to be extremely accurate, in a period piece, you can be as historically correct as you choose and few will ever know.

I think the question you are really asking, perhaps unknown even to you, concerns human nature. Not the setting, not the flora and fauna or the period, but the nature of the beast you are writing about.

And as a little reality bite, fetishes are aberrations, as is hedonism, et cetera, so, the author with the A, must....?

amicus...

 

[Stella_Omega]

Yes, setting is very important to me, for good or bad... In my short stories, I have the settings precisely visualised, although they aren't explicated to the reader. In "Her Woods, Her Pleasure" (I suck at titles) I could draw a map of the grounds, and I can tell you that the city in question is Zurich-- although these things don't matter at all to the reader. "Sarabande" is very dependent on Los Angeles/Hollywood. neighbourhoods and streets are mentioned all the time, and one long discussion takes place while the characters are driving through Laurel Canyon-- I was homesick at that time

The importance of setting is hindering me at the moment, because I don't "have" the Eastern Seaboard yet-- not that it needs to be completely internalised, but I don't yet feel comfortable with it.

 

[IsabellaKing]

In the books I’ve written recently I have made a conscious effort not to describe people and places in too much detail.

I did it in the hope that it would enable the story to flow and leave the reader free to build his/her own picture although whilst I'm writing I have a firm image in my head of the setting and exactly what my character looks like.

Unfortunately I have no idea if I have succeeded.

I once read a book where a famous author advised not to go into detail about what a person is wearing only to find the opening sentence of his very next book describing what his character was wearing.

Obviously it was called for on this occasion as I wouldn't dream of criticising this author. but it did make me giggle.

 

[CharleyH]

The worlds in which I write are the modern world (cept for fairy stories and the Amurcan civil war) but I've had a couple or three PCs that mention seeable yet unknown settings. A sense of place without any particular foundation.

That may be because I'm still not yet sure what to include in stories and what is pertinent.

I'm not actually fond of description in stories that tallies with anything I know, if I have a place described it must be a place I don't know or aspects of a familiar place that I don't know exist.

In my writing the world is most often your own world. So much so that I feel like readers should know it anyway, except where it serves my story's purpose.

I've been accused of being 'bitty' or 'jumpy' when I write (not without reason) and this is a failure in my writing, sometimes it's a failure on the reader's part, but I tend to omit the obvious and reference the slightly obscure without explanation and the largest part of omission is in the setting.

Many of my stories are at points of time in history, yet just as many in present and two in purely fictional places (one a created universe unto itself and the other in future earth.) Particularly with my historical stories I research diligently and attempt to create an atmosphere that gives the reader a sense of place and atmosphere, yet I also like to choose certain snippets, if you will, that specifically reflect on the character or theme. Some are blatant reflections, some are subtle to many readers, yet the astute reader does pick them up.

One of the greatest problems I think any writer faces when writing setting is just as you point out, "what to include and what is pertinent." I'm completely guilty of including too much because I love to describe and especially for historical settings I enjoy getting all that damned research I did out on the page. Still many editors tell me to pare down - pare down.

I agree that the world created by the author is "your own world" and I love the concept. I suppose in Foucault's world this might be a 'utopian space' with direct or inverted analogy to the real world.' I really must look this essay up or either find a link to it because it's quite fascinating in recollection. Yet, Question: Do you as the author feel you know your (trying to think of a word that might best describe your personal approach to setting, Gauche?) settings like the back of your hand and could you indeed immediately answer any question about your setting, as McKee believes an author aught to? Is it even important to you, why or why not?

Question: I'm curious ... when purposefully (and I am only guessing that it is purposeful) omitting the obvious and referencing the slightly obscure without explanation - what is it that you are wanting/hoping to accomplish with your story/style or perhaps even your reader (ie. are you trying to say something to your reader, or are you wanting a specific type of reader etc.?)

 

[jomar]

Hmm...responding because questions like yours help me think about what I'm doing. In my early stories (a few months ago ) I knew the setting, but gave few details and left it more impressionistic. In my current story that's posting I've added more detail:

The four walked up wide steps onto a covered porch surrounding the Adirondack style lodge, through oversized double doors, and into the main reception area...

...Maureen looked around the beautiful lobby, taking in the high ceiling and huge chandelier made of antlers, the comfortable brown leather club chairs and upholstered light pine chairs scattered about in cozy conversational arrangements, the colorful loom rugs, the crackling fire in the oversized stone fireplace, the rough hewn oak walls, rustic paintings, and the many large windows that overlooked stunning vistas...

Like that. More detail, but still broad strokes. I hope it gives the reader enough to visualize it clearly but not enough to clutter and drag the pace. More detail as called for by the scene and action, but again hope I strike a balance.

 

[CharleyH]

Nice topic Charley, one dear to me.

Excuse me for my rather lackadaisical approach to posting to this thread (a lot on my plate - lets not mention Portuguese bureaucracy - lol).

First off, I've always loved the poetic manner in which you describe the surroundings of your characters. You seem to approach setting like an artist or photographer and I know that you have said that your themes are artistic (? - actually, correct me if I am wrong). I've only read the snippet once over, but my immediate response is that it reminds me of a short story by Aldous Huxley called "Usually, destroyed." (This is a big compliment as he is one of my more favoured authors and this title is probably my favourite short story).

The statue of Christ missing all limbs was a particularly vivid and captivating image from my slightly semiotic POV and most hauntingly it would play to the theme you presented and from the one I gather along my read ... I read with a specific hope of finding that image. Maybe it's because I have only read it one time (so far) or maybe I am tired (it's bloody hot and humid), but I don't recall seeing it in my read.

Is there a particular reason that you begin your synopsis to us by describing this statue of Christ and a brief history and then present us a story snip with everything BUT this image? I dunno, maybe it's just the way I think, but in your pointing it out it seemed like it resonated with you, so I am curious why you did not write it into your story.

Anyhow, since you have posted the snip, I am going to take liberty and go through the story a couple of more times before asking you questions about it specifically, Neon.

In the meantime, you begin your response to me by saying that the topic of setting is something important to you.

Question: On the one hand, because of your interests in architecture, art, and history, I can totally understand why setting would be important to you on a personal level. How do you feel setting is important to the world of your characters, or specifically to your protagonist?

Question: What do you think setting should achieve? (both in your own writing and in others?

 

[neonlyte]

Ok... I confused you. I'm talking about two seperate novels. I thought I'd let you know immediately in case you try to make sense of an ambiguous post. I'll post an extract from 'Mirror of Justice' - involving the statue - later.

No need to apologise to me about Portuguese bureaucracy, it's daunting on so many different levels

I'll consider your questions and post with the extract.

 

[CharleyH]

To me, setting is as much of a player in a story as any other element. I will not start writing without not only knowing my setting and my characters, but knowing why this story needs this setting instead of another and how the characters interact with their surroundings (and vice-versa). Maybe it's from writing poetry, or maybe it's because I actually read (), but I don't believe in the let's-type-and-see-what-happens approach to writing. Everything must have a reason. Everything must converge.

Of all people, you know that I believe everything must have reason and purpose in story. However, as much as I strive for the goal, I don't know that I always achieve it. I know McKee states that Authors achieve it daily. (he makes it sound so simple).

Question: Playing from the opposite deck for a bit, is it really possible to write a setting so in tune to theme/character etc. that not one element of it is out of place?

Question:Thinking of Literotica ... I often read stories where setting is functional (like an Ikea sofa - lol sorry Neon (re- recent Ikea troubles) ), but has no other relevance. In fact, I'd suggest one setting could be replaced with any other in many - not all - Lit stories. Question: I'm very interested in knowing how people feel about stories with settings that have no other purpose than to be there and that could be interchangeable with anything?

Lauren, I'd ask you if a story without setting could have purpose, but I know you will say yes - lol - so let me ask ...

If a story has some modicum of setting like a sofa (somewhere, and somewhere in time) should it have more function than simply a space to have sex or a conversation (should it be a non-erotic story)?

My initial reaction is that if the sofa (somewhere, and somewhere in time) is featured, then surely there is significance to it and as a reader I want to know the significance of that sofa since it is the only indicator of setting.

 

[CharleyH]

As an aside, I am putting questions in bold so they are easy to find. While I may be responding to individual posters, I think it's important that anyone here feel free to answer any question I pose.

 

[CharleyH]

In "Her Woods, Her Pleasure" (I suck at titles) I could draw a map of the grounds, and I can tell you that the city in question is Zurich-- although these things don't matter at all to the reader.

Question: I want to ask why wouldn't these things matter to the reader. Is setting not important to your reader? Why include setting if it isn't even important to your reader?

However, I know better. and will pose the same question to you that I did to Neon ... When you write setting as you've described, how important is setting to your characters/ protagonist(s)?

The importance of setting is hindering me at the moment, because I don't "have" the Eastern Seaboard yet-- not that it needs to be completely internalised, but I don't yet feel comfortable with it.

By all means, what do you feel you are stuck on? Where on the Eastern seaboard? I'm sure we can spur some ideas for you, at least.

 

[CharleyH]

In the books I’ve written recently I have made a conscious effort not to describe people and places in too much detail.

I did it in the hope that it would enable the story to flow and leave the reader free to build his/her own picture although whilst I'm writing I have a firm image in my head of the setting and exactly what my character looks like.

Unfortunately I have no idea if I have succeeded.

I once read a book where a famous author advised not to go into detail about what a person is wearing only to find the opening sentence of his very next book describing what his character was wearing.

Obviously it was called for on this occasion as I wouldn't dream of criticising this author. but it did make me giggle.

None of us are beyond contradiction.

Having the background and POV that I do, I personally feel that a story is not - GULP - unlike advertising (YUK - I know, but bear with me because it's only an analogy - lol ). While I believe in an active reader and not a passive one, I think that the author must narrow the choices in description if only to guide the reader to the final purpose of the story (theme). If one leaves setting and character description open for debate from reader to reader to reader, than the fuller meaning of the actual 'story' will vanish to the ether. I am not saying you MUST describe every detail of a character for example, yet there should be indicators (motif, metaphor, symbol even) in the description/setting that help the reader visualize what you as a director/conductor of sorts wants them to know/see.

In an advertising message, the least amount of words are used to get a message across, but still the advertiser selects particular words so that the message is understood by as many people as possible. An author does or should do the same thing in a way, IMO.

Question: Why don't you know you have succeeded? What purpose does the absence of setting/description have to your story? To you as an author? To your characters?

 

[miwoodsman]

Personally, I have to have intimate knowledge of the story setting in order to write it in the first place. Ask me a question about any of my stories and I can give you an immediate response. I don't always fully describe the surroundings in my stories but in my mind they are crystal clear.

But maybe that's just me...

 

[Stella_Omega]

Question: I want to ask why wouldn't these things matter to the reader. Is setting not important to your reader? Why include setting if it isn't even important to your reader?

However, I know better. and will pose the same question to you that I did to Neon ... When you write setting as you've described, how important is setting to your characters/ protagonist(s)?

The story is really about the mechanisms of submissiveness, and the only thing about the setting that's pertinent to the story is the matter of "territory"-- my protagonist is dominant in her own melieu-- city streets and nightclubs--, but is subdued by Diane's domain, the great outdoors-- and there's plenty of that described or alluded to in the story.
As it happens, the seeds of the story happened in Zurich, and that's where I've planted it. It helped me write the story because I could visualise the places so clearly-- but to say "This all happened to me in Zurich" seems unnecessary to the story, and pretentious and name-dropping to most American readers.

By all means, what do you feel you are stuck on? Where on the Eastern seaboard? I'm sure we can spur some ideas for you, at least.

It's a matter of working out sailing times, currents etc-- the ship sails from Port-Au-Prince to Boston, down into the Gulf to New Orleans, back up to Boston with a few stops on the way.
What would be goods that she could carry that would be really valuable to Boston?

If a gorgeous Creole slave were to sneak on board in New Orleans, and make an escape in say, Savannah, would a horseman be able to ride to Boston with the news before the ship reaches the Bay? And-- how many sex scenes will I be able to work in, with how many participants, before the next pirate battle?

Where do the pirates meet up with the Indian tribe that has been caring for someone's long-lost brother?

You know- stuff like that.


For some of your questions, my opinions;
Yes, there are certainly stories dependent on place, most of your own, for instance-- because you write them that way
The best of sci-Fi and fantasy, of course, because the rules of nature, behavior, or even physics can be altered, thereby drastically altering the interactions that make up the plot or its details. Only "the best" of any genre can be said to make this work-- most stories are concerned with basic actions, and the same changes are rung endlessly. Lover's misunderstandings can happen anywhere, from a Ginza nightclub to a storm cellar in Peoria-- it's still the same "you don't love me anymore" lines. As a reader, if the setting has no function, I will be irritated and bored by its description-- unless the author's wordplay is brilliant and amusing in its own right.

AS far as the sofa goes-- its function is to provide a platform for the human interactions, sexual or conversational. That's all I ask of it. I did mention in one story that the armchair was regal, and the sofa was leather, because the personality of the owner would demand that-- and the texture of cool leather against naked skin provides a little frisson... however neither of the characters, nor me the writer would give a damn for any further specifics.

I just read a piece of fanfic, that described an often-described setting in a new way-- a way that gave it a great deal of significance for the mood and plot of the story. Everyone places action on the bed in that room-- but she gave the bed carvings of putti and gargoyles with watching eyes... I was impressed!

I also just read an orgy stroker, where, evidently, there was no furniture at all, just a carpeted floor. This would have been pretty unusual for the time-period it was set in, being the fussy mid-1800's. It wasn't enough to destroy my enjoyment of the story, but i did notice the lack...

 

[CharleyH]

Hmm...responding because questions like yours help me think about what I'm doing. In my early stories (a few months ago ) I knew the setting, but gave few details and left it more impressionistic. In my current story that's posting I've added more detail:

The four walked up wide steps onto a covered porch surrounding the Adirondack style lodge, through oversized double doors, and into the main reception area...

...Maureen looked around the beautiful lobby, taking in the high ceiling and huge chandelier made of antlers, the comfortable brown leather club chairs and upholstered light pine chairs scattered about in cozy conversational arrangements, the colorful loom rugs, the crackling fire in the oversized stone fireplace, the rough hewn oak walls, rustic paintings, and the many large windows that overlooked stunning vistas...

Like that. More detail, but still broad strokes. I hope it gives the reader enough to visualize it clearly but not enough to clutter and drag the pace. More detail as called for by the scene and action, but again hope I strike a balance.

Since you posted and I pre-warned? Let me be frank.

Your descriptions (in this passage) are basic and lifeless (sounds harsher than it really is meant, Joey ) I think that if you structured your sentences differently there would be more life. I am not a guru, I only know what I (IMO) like ... and you can't please everyone, so please yourself. I personally do not think this is a good description of the surroundings. I don't because as a reader I want to be seamlessly immersed into the story and not have to think about the placement of the room (in this case)/setting. This description makes me think I need a blueprint because I do not know where I am in time or space. If you are trying to write a story where the world is banal than it works. Apologies, but that is my opinion straight up.

I think many people misunderstand what setting is, and I SO wish that Doc, Pennystreet or Shang would also post here and give their expertise on the topic because (IMO) they write setting as if it were just a sweet and luscious sip of beauty.

 

[CharleyH]

I think the question you are really asking, perhaps unknown even to you, concerns human nature. Not the setting, not the flora and fauna or the period, but the nature of the beast you are writing about.

No - I know the questions I am asking, Ami.

And as a little reality bite, fetishes are aberrations, as is hedonism, et cetera, so, the author with the A, must....?

amicus...

I will immediately get on starting a fetish thread just for you, babe.

 

[amicus]

No - I know the questions I am asking, Ami.



I will immediately get on starting a fetish thread just for you, babe.

 

[neonlyte]

Question: On the one hand, because of your interests in architecture, art, and history, I can totally understand why setting would be important to you on a personal level. How do you feel setting is important to the world of your characters, or specifically to your protagonist?

My writing ideas come (usually) from single real life scenes. To give you an example, I'm mulling on a new project generated from visiting an art exhibition last year of an eminent female Portuguese artist. The exhibition was huge, maybe 120 paintings, possibly more... and they were all owned by a single man. Walking the exhibition, the hairs rose on the back of my neck as I began to piece together a frame for a story. The 'art' would be intrinsic to telling this story bound with the relationship between artist and patron and I guess most of my other stories have similar strong linkage between the characters and the framework that binds them. I believe charactors are a projection of the environment they create for themselves, in real life we rarely step outside the 'comfort zone' of both our self made environment and the relationships that nurture a sense of well being. That doesn't mean shit doesn't happen, it wouldn't be a story without a struggle to be overcome. This philosophy imposes I write out from the things that I know... which is why 'art' or rather artists figure so prominently. As individuals, I find them utterly fascinating, they have (to succeed) a selfish edge requiring resiliant and resourceful partners in fiction. That kind of guarantees me a relationship dynamic.

Question: What do you think setting should achieve? (both in your own writing and in others?

Selfish answer here: I've been reading a huge amount of new fiction, short list book award fiction over the past five years. A significant majority of these novels focus on setting. I'm setting driven anyway, pushing work in that direction to meet a possible commercial demand seems to me to be the right way to go. Even Harry Potter's make believe world is meticulous in terms of setting, as are the works Pratchett. Yet I don't feel capable of inventing a fictional world - not even a sci-fi world, who'd want to compete with Banks! I stoop to conquer worlds I know, researching meticulously, re-visiting places to confirm details, even photographing individual houses that I intend use in a setting. I visited Dublin earlier this year specifically to see and photograph Bacon's re-constructed studio. I came across a similar chaotic studio some years ago, it features in another work, and I'd not been able to photograph the studio I came upon, Bacon's fills some gaps.

As to what I want to achieve through setting in my works, if they ever get published (I've actually had a meeting with a published confirmed this evening) I'd like readers to be able to follow the path I've taken in the writing, I'd like to think readers will gain more from the novel by placing themselves in the setting I've written about.

- - - - -

The Christ Statue
Isabella visits the church containing the broken Christ to give silent thanks after a near sailing disaster. Some time after that, she begins to have nightmares. She works for an international organisation that tries to recover stolen art and a linkage forms between the theft of rare Icons and the dreams.

Extract from 'Mirror of Justice'

I’m sorry, Philip.” I say as he leans forward and takes my hand, we play finger games to re-connect. “I told you what happened at St Enogat Church. I don’t think I can add anything to what I’ve already told you. Neither the Church nor the Cruciform have ever featured again. I’ll take you there,” I tell him in a gesture of reconciliation, “perhaps it’s time for me to revisit the place where all this began.”

He smiles, “Maybe, but not if you think it’s going to upset you. Tell me about the others.”

“There was a long interval between the first and second,” I begin, “I’d really put St Enogat out of my mind. Just over two years ago, I was driving back to Paris from St Malo, I’d been crewing in a regatta to Jersey and back… it came out of nowhere. I was on the autoroute and I had to pull over, I was shaking, crying… it felt so real.”

“What happened?”

“It was as if I’d been plucked from my car and placed in the middle of a battle. Medieval, though I’ve no idea where or when. It was as if I was one of the people fighting, like I was seeing with their eyes. The scene was one of utter carnage. The people being attacked hardly seem to be defending themselves. I hear the sound of battle, the screams and cries of those around me. People fall, but even their falling doesn’t save them from the savagery of the attackers. Killing is not enough, they are mutilated, heads and limbs hacked from the torso, and stomachs split and spilled to stain the earth or a wooden floor, or the flagstones of a courtyard. The women and young girls, those unlucky enough not to be killed, are sorely assaulted, their bodies abused by flesh and steel until death is a blessing.”

Philip rubs the back of my hand with his thumb, he doesn’t know what to say so I answer the questions he doesn’t need to ask, I’ve asked them all of myself.

“That first time, I couldn’t take it in. It overwhelmed me. Since then, I’ve dreamt the scene — similar scenes — many times. Sometimes the setting is at night, a courtyard lit by flickering flames, and other times it’s daylight and I can see clearer the brutality of those around me. They are Christian, the attackers I mean… but so are the ones being attacked. Some of the women wear the crucifix, there are monks being slaughtered or hung from the branches of trees. Then recently, the dreams have taken a different turn. I feel eyes upon me burning into the back of my head, and I turn and catch a glimpse of my would-be attacker before waking. But the funny thing is, I’m not frightened by him even though he clearly intends to do me harm. He has his sword raised over his head as if ready to strike me down. Then I wake up.”

 

[Lauren Hynde]

Question: Playing from the opposite deck for a bit, is it really possible to write a setting so in tune to theme/character etc. that not one element of it is out of place?

I certainly hope so! It can be done in short bursts, obviously - I'm thinking poetry again - but the more elements you add, the more likely it is for some of them to be random or out of place.

Thinking of Literotica ... I often read stories where setting is functional (like an Ikea sofa - lol sorry Neon (re- recent Ikea troubles) ), but has no other relevance. In fact, I'd suggest one setting could be replaced with any other in many - not all - Lit stories. Question: I'm very interested in knowing how people feel about stories with settings that have no other purpose than to be there and that could be interchangeable with anything?

Lauren, I'd ask you if a story without setting could have purpose, but I know you will say yes - lol - so let me ask ...

If a story has some modicum of setting like a sofa (somewhere, and somewhere in time) should it have more function than simply a space to have sex or a conversation (should it be a non-erotic story)?

My initial reaction is that if the sofa (somewhere, and somewhere in time) is featured, then surely there is significance to it and as a reader I want to know the significance of that sofa since it is the only indicator of setting.

Absolutely. It has to have some sort of semiotic meaning that relates directly to the theme of the story. Is it a love seat? Is it a psychiatrist's couch? If that is the only "stage" of the story, then the story better have a lot to do with it.

When you mentioned the couch, I immediately thought of your story The Window. In it, all the action is set by, behind or in front of windows, and that is certainly not a random choice. The theme of the story demands it.

And it doesn't matter if the window in question is in Toronto or in New York. The fact that it is located in Toronto is merely circumstancial, but that's a different matter. Toronto is not the setting in the sense we're talking here. The window is. But it's not just any window, it's urban, it has a major city outside, it has a specific surrounding. It's clearly not a window in Buttfuck, Ohio.

Same thing with Stella's Zurich story. The fact that it's in Zurich is irrelevant. The setting is "the city" and "the club scene". She decided not to name names. That's fine. My story Plastic Love is set specifically in Cannes. The setting is a high-class summer resort with a visceral connection to movies, a city of dreams. I could have gone with Hollywood or some other movie mecca, or I could have done what Stella did and leave it up for the reader to decide, but for my story, set in a city of dreams, pretentious name-dropping was a must.

A story with no setting at all would be brilliant, because it would mean the story itself would have to be totally disconnected from the physical world and be aware of it. Like "Tommy" from Tommy's perspective.

If, on the other hand, it's a story with a setting, but that setting is simply so immaterial or unspecific that you can't differentiate it from any other, then I would expect the story to be about just that: about life in suburbia, for example. Leaving the setting uncharacterised just so that the reader can set it anywhere they want, or having a setting at random or, worse yet, because it's a real story and "that's what really happened!" has always seemed a bit lame to me, at least as a writer. I feel like I'm not doing my job properly.

 

[neonlyte]

It's a matter of working out sailing times, currents etc-- the ship sails from Port-Au-Prince to Boston, down into the Gulf to New Orleans, back up to Boston with a few stops on the way.
What would be goods that she could carry that would be really valuable to Boston?

If a gorgeous Creole slave were to sneak on board in New Orleans, and make an escape in say, Savannah, would a horseman be able to ride to Boston with the news before the ship reaches the Bay? And-- how many sex scenes will I be able to work in, with how many participants, before the next pirate battle?

Where do the pirates meet up with the Indian tribe that has been caring for someone's long-lost brother?

Tip of Florida I would imagine for the last part, I seem to remember remains of an Indian settlement being discovered there a few years ago during a development project.

Here is a pretty useful link to merchant sail ships http://www.authorama.com/old-merchant-marine-9.html
It will give lots of 'nautical terms' and some idea of cargoes, ship speed, construction etc.

 

[Stella_Omega]

Tip of Florida I would imagine for the last part, I seem to remember remains of an Indian settlement being discovered there a few years ago during a development project.

Here is a pretty useful link to merchant sail ships http://www.authorama.com/old-merchant-marine-9.html
It will give lots of 'nautical terms' and some idea of cargoes, ship speed, construction etc.

haha, awesome!

(edited to say;

The second I clicked on that link, it told me that my girl jumps ship in Baltimore-- north of the slave-holding territories.