A picture is worth a thousand words. An author can create entire worlds from the color of the grass to the peak of the tallest skyscraper – a stunning landscape for the events of the story and the characters to live in.
But how do those characters live, work, and move within the world? I’ve run into this problem many times while writing. I envision a large mansion with an expansive back yard that includes a pool, a pool house, a garden and greenhouse, and maybe even a guest house. But how do the characters move around this property? How do they get from the front door of the main house to the pool or any of those other areas? Where is their bedroom? Where are the bathrooms?
In Midnight Splash, Turner’s bedroom is upstairs. If his dad called him for dinner and he was in his room at the time, Turner shouldn’t com sauntering in from the doorway from the living room. The bedroom also has an en suite bathroom, so it’d be odd if he was walking down the hall with a fresh set of clothes to take a shower.
Considering these things is not about becoming an architect. It’s about understanding the story and the space enough that the events happen seamlessly without the reader flipping back several pages because they remembered “there was a wall there in chapter six – did it move?”
The thing about architecture is that it is very difficult to change once put in place, so thinking about setting and how it’s used is a basic detail that must be decided before you move on. I’m fortunate enough to be married to a building designer. I turn around, sketch something out and say “can this work?” When the answer is yes, I start thinking about how my characters will move through it. Where are the doors? Windows? Elevators? Stairs? Is there a courtyard entry or just a sidewalk?
Sometimes all I need is a quick sketch of a building shape. Sometimes I need to envision that courtyard and those doors and windows. Sometimes I need a complete floor plan so I know how a character has to move to get to a specific point.
If I’m thorough, you won’t notice those mechanics. You’ll just watch as the character opens the door, walks in, and goes to the elevator. You won’t think about the hours of thought I put in for a sentence or two. Until I forget that the Engineering Wing on the college campus a character attends is on the south side of the building, not the north.
Have you ever been engrossed in a story and suddenly pulled out when you realized the characters can’t go “that way” because it was impossible just a few chapters ago? Let’s talk on Facebook!