Tag: Terry Pratchett

Fantasy Settings: How Much Do We Really Need to See?

Everybody likes a good fantasy setting. Whether it’s Tolkien’s Middle-Earth, Jemisin’s Stillness, or Pratchett’s Discworld, there are some places we never want to leave. By that logic, there are some places we should see even more of, right? Well, not necessarily.

For us fantasy writers, it’s tempting to show every region of our worlds. That abandoned graveyard? Let’s send some characters there, just to see it. What about the ancient eagle’s nest atop the mountain? We need to show it, just because it’s awesome. And that village of singing trolls out in the west? There’s a chapter.

Before we do that, let’s take a step back and look at our world. Not the story world, but the world we actually live in. You know, Earth. It’s vast, isn’t it? And not only geographically—in terms of our knowledge, too. So many cultures, so much history. It’s practically limitless. Most people live their whole lives never seeing the entire thing.

To create an authentic fantasy world, I think we need to keep that same principle in mind. I believe every fictional world, fantasy or otherwise, should have parts on the periphery that we never discover.

A great example comes from The Lord of the Rings. Sure, you remember Mordor and Rivendell. But riddle me this: Do you remember Queen Beruthiel? She’s mentioned in an offhand comment from Aragorn:

“[Gandalf] is surer of finding the way home in a blind night than the cats of Queen Berúthiel.”

That’s it. She’s never mentioned again. At first glance, this might seem like laziness or even a mistake. But that reference is almost certainly intentional, and one of the many tricks Tolkien employed when building Middle-Earth. He created a rich, wholly believable world precisely because he didn’t show us everything.

Just like in the real world, there are limits to our knowledge as readers. If we directly experience every location and every person, the setting ends up feeling awfully small. But if there’s more beyond the borders of the page, we get a proper sense of scale.

Let’s stick with epic fantasy for our second talking point. A Song of Ice and Fire is one of the most immersive worlds out there. And it’s a big world—big enough that the story might not even conclude after seven volumes.

In books four and five, author George R.R. Martin shows us more of this expansive world. He adds several characters just to serve as vessels through which we can see the other areas of his setting. For example, bodyguard Areo Hotah exists only to show us what’s happening in the desert kingdom of Dorne.

Does it work? Well, that depends on whom you ask. For the most part, though, fans hate it.

Why? Because even Martin, who’s been a professional writer for decades, makes the mistake of showing too much of his setting. He has many chapters in which his characters do little except tell us what’s going on in this one place. Do we really need to see what’s going on in Dorne and the Iron Islands first-hand? You could debate it, but a lot of fans will tell you it distracts from the main plot. Furthermore, it makes his world feel smaller.

The more we see of a setting, the smaller it gets. Though we might want to visit that cool place we referenced way back in chapter five, it’s often best if we resist the urge.


Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his wife, their cats, and their dog. He has written two books and numerous short stories, both published and yet-to-be published. He enjoys unusual narrative structures, multiple POVs, and stories that make people laugh.

*Image credit: Mehmet Canli. Used under permission of CC BY-SA 2.0.

Don’t Get Stumped: 5 Ways to Beat Writer’s Block

Throes of Creation

Leonid Pasternak’s “Throes of Creation”

Writing’s always fun when you have something to write. But when the well runs dry, you might find that you’ve got writer’s block.

But what is writer’s block? Is it even a real phenomenon? And if it is, what can we do about it?

As the late Sir Terry Pratchett once said, “There’s no such thing as writer’s block. That was invented by people in California who couldn’t write.” Okay, possibly. But I think there’s also a common misconception about writer’s block in general: that it’s a condition where you are literally incapable of writing. I don’t believe in that either, Terry.

I do believe, however, in writer’s stump—and I’m not talking about trees. Writer’s stump means you just get stumped—like on a math problem, or with a difficult riddle. It happens to every writer, probably even Terry Pratchett.

So what can we do about it? Here are a few ideas.

1. Try Working on a Completely Unrelated Project

For me, this method works really well. I think that’s because I remain in the writing state of mind, even though I’m not working on my main project.

To get started, try writing something completely new, like a flash fiction piece or a short story. You could even try writing about how difficult it is to think of something to write, so long as you’re putting something on the page/screen. You might find that it changes your mindset from I can’t write to I’m struggling with this particular piece right now, but I’m still a good writer.

The other side of this coin is just stepping away from writing entirely—but just for a little while, I hope. If you’re feeling especially enraged about your writing, Nicolas Cage-style, then you might want do something else for a while.

2. Look to One of Your Favorite Works for Inspiration

I find this one either works really well or just pisses you off (Cage-style pissed? See previous paragraph). For example, I might pull my hardcover of American Gods down from the shelf, pick a random paragraph, read it, and say to myself, “Wow. When I grow up, I want to write like that.” And then, hopefully, I’ll go back to my piece with a smile and newfound inspiration.

Or, on another day, I might read the same random paragraph and exclaim, “Wow. When I grow up, I will never, ever be that good. Woe is me.”

Your reaction to this method will probably depend on your temperament or what kind of mood you’re in on that particular day. Be careful with this one.

3. Look Back at Something You’ve Already Written

Similar to number 2, but try it with your own work. I would suggest picking something you wrote a while ago and were always very proud of, but haven’t looked at for a while. That way, you might surprise yourself with some especially crackling pieces of dialogue, or a beautifully-written image.

This one is especially effective because writer’s stump is often just a symptom of self-doubt. You get stuck, which makes you wonder if you’re actually a good writer, and suddenly, you have no good ideas anymore. By looking back at a good piece, you’ll see that you’ve already written some amazing stuff, so there’s no need to feel like you can’t write.

Or, for a little fun, try revisiting a piece you wrote when you first started  writing. I did that once, and it was awesome. You come out of the experience realizing that you’ve improved a ton more than you might realize.

4. Ask yourself, “What is this piece really about?”

This, like the other tricks I’ve mentioned, is certainly not foolproof. But it’s one of my favorite techniques. If you sit back and look at your story as a whole, not just as one event leading to the next, you might spot the way out of the stump you’ve gotten yourself into.

I think Stephen King sums this method up perfectly in his nonfiction masterpiece, On Writing. He describes a particularly nasty case of the block when writing The Stand thusly:

“I liked my story. I liked my characters. And still there came a point when I couldn’t write any longer because I didn’t know what to write…I circled the problem again and again, beat my fists on it, knocked my head against it…and then one day when I was thinking of nothing much at all, the answer came to me…If there is any one thing I love about writing more than the rest, it’s that sudden flash of insight when you see how everything connects.”

Just taking a step back and looking at the big picture sometimes makes all the difference.

5. Grind it out!

This method isn’t for everyone, but I think it’s worth a try sometimes. If you’re writing a novel and can’t think of a way to get your character from Point A to Point B, just plop her/him at Point B and figure out the “how” later. You might find that the answer comes to you as a result of your subsequent writing. Furthermore, this avoids the blank-stare-at-the-screen-or-page moment, which just leads to more of the same.

Closing Thoughts…

The stump/block, in the words of Arnold Schwarzenegger, is one ugly you-know-what. Thankfully, there are many ways to defeat it. I’m certainly no expert, but I like to write about writing and the methods I’ve listed here sometimes work for me. How do you fight the block? Feel free to leave your favorite techniques in the comments below.

And keep on writing!


Kyle A. Massa is a speculative fiction author living somewhere in upstate New York with his fiancee and their two cats. His stories have appeared in numerous online magazines, including Allegory, Chantwood, and Dark Fire Fiction.

Good Omens: The Apocalypse Meets Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman

Image courtesy justjillsblog.files.wordpress.com.

They say that two heads are better than one.

They may be right on that score.

First published in 1990, Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s Good Omens is an apocalyptic fantasy novel that somehow manages to turn the end of the world into a strange and hilarious romp. Crowley, a demon, and Aziraphale, an angel, become unlikely partners in a quest to prevent the impending reckoning. Why? Because they’ve actually grown to like Earth the way it is (Crowley, in particular, has quite the thing for fast cars and the classic rock band Queen). The duo scours Earth for the Antichrist, who, because of a mixup at birth, doesn’t actually know he’s the Antichrist. Throw in a book of perfect prophecies, a witch hunter, and a modern day witch, and you get Good Omens.

I’ve read a ton by Neil Gaiman and nothing by Terry Pratchett. However, I was pleased to find that their tones, styles, and voices blend together very well, to the point that you forget this book wasn’t written by one man, whose name might be Neilterry Pratchettgaiman. The prose is elegant and always funny, and the authors easily balance the story arcs of numerous characters.

Among all those characters, Crowley is certainly my favorite. What makes him great is how realistic he is: if there was a demon on earth, that demon would be just like Crowley. Furthermore, he represents a very interesting take on the demonic. After all, Crowley is a demon, but we never see him do anything particularly evil. This contrary behavior refers back to the main question that seems to come up again and again throughout the novel: What is evil? For that matter, what is good? And, perhaps most importantly, do such absolutes even exist?

This brings me to my next point: Good Omens is probably one of the smartest, most insightful books you’ll ever read on the subject of religion. Sometimes critics have a tendency to dismiss comical works simply because they make an audience laugh rather than cry–a tendency which I think is criminal. In my opinion, Good Omens is right up there with Milton’s Paradise Lost, Marlowe’s Doctor Faustus, and Bulgakov’s The Master and Margarita when it comes to literature about religion and the demonic.

Furthermore, the humor of this novel underscores the themes as a whole, being that belief, morality, and even life itself are sometimes parodies of what they’re supposed to be. It’s an absolutely brilliant novel by a couple of absolutely brilliant guys.

Good Omens deftly challenges age-old notions of right and wrong with all the witty humor one would expect from Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman. One of the best books I read over the summer–or ever.

Rating: 9/10

© 2024 Kyle A. Massa

Theme by Anders NorenUp ↑