Ever since the time of the ancient Greeks, all stories have depended on the three foundations of character (who the story is about), plot (what happens), and setting (the time and place of the story). These elements are taught to writers as early as kindergarten. But while most writers develop a greater complexity of understanding about characters and plots as they get older, most writers tend to still regard setting as "time and place." But setting is so much more:
SETTING IS THE ENTIRE ENVIRONMENTAL WORLD AROUND THE STORY,
INCLUDING TIME, PLACE, AND HOW TIME AND PLACE INTERSECT
Setting puts boundaries on the world of the story and defines its logic. While fantasies and science fiction tales allow us to conceive things that aren't possible in the real world, they create barriers of reason so that there are still limits to what can happen. Whether a story set in the far future or set in the distant past, setting defines the resources available to the characters and the rules of their world. Setting also encompasses what the readers see of the story and the world, compressing time and erasing the boring bits between pivotal scenes. Setting, as we will explore, is one of the most important elements of a written story.
TIME: when stories happen
Authors rarely define time by clunkily inserting a date into their prose, so the reader needs to use context clues to determine the time of the setting. The most easily identifiable facet of time in a story is the HOUR, or the time of day (or night) when the action of a story action. This is the easiest for readers to find because readers have a lot of experience with identifying time of day based on the sun (dawn, morning, noon, afternoon, evening, night, midnight). After identifying the hour, readers can then most readily identify the SEASON, or time of year. Like with times of day, people have strong connotations to seasons thanks to nature (like leave changing and plants blooming), changes in weather, and annual events (like Halloween or a baseball game).
A more complex element of time in setting is the idea of ROUTINE, which is the regular pattern of daily events that constitute an average day for the characters. A routine tends to be relatable to readers as everyone has their own daily routine and most routines follow some kind of variation of wake, eat, bathe, work, eat, relax, sleep. While many people have their routine tied to the hour (like breakfast in the morning), authors that vary character routines from the norm tend to use the variations to make an emphatic point about the character (e.g., breakfast in evening and work at night). Establishing a routine also helps develop the conflict when the conflict results in the routine being broken and the rhythm of everyday life is upset.
Finally, these three facets can be change over the course of the story. The conflict can start on a fall morning and develop through winter until the resolution in the spring. This change and progression of time in a story is called PASSAGE. This is why scenes in a story tend to progress in chronological order (and if they don't, they really call attention to themselves) so readers can feel how long the story lasts. Part of what an author must consider is how they account for the gaps in time between scenes in order to keep the story realistic. Authors can also manipulate time and reveal important past information using flashbacks.
A more complex element of time in setting is the idea of ROUTINE, which is the regular pattern of daily events that constitute an average day for the characters. A routine tends to be relatable to readers as everyone has their own daily routine and most routines follow some kind of variation of wake, eat, bathe, work, eat, relax, sleep. While many people have their routine tied to the hour (like breakfast in the morning), authors that vary character routines from the norm tend to use the variations to make an emphatic point about the character (e.g., breakfast in evening and work at night). Establishing a routine also helps develop the conflict when the conflict results in the routine being broken and the rhythm of everyday life is upset.
Finally, these three facets can be change over the course of the story. The conflict can start on a fall morning and develop through winter until the resolution in the spring. This change and progression of time in a story is called PASSAGE. This is why scenes in a story tend to progress in chronological order (and if they don't, they really call attention to themselves) so readers can feel how long the story lasts. Part of what an author must consider is how they account for the gaps in time between scenes in order to keep the story realistic. Authors can also manipulate time and reveal important past information using flashbacks.
PLACE: where stories happen
Like the hour with time, the easiest aspect of place for readers to identify is the LOCALE, or the specific locations the story takes place. Locales include the name of the room, the building, the address, the town, the state, the country, or even the planet. Stories tend to have multiple specific locales (like buildings) within a more general locale (town).
Locales tend to help determine the REGION. Region refers to the natural environment around the local, such as the types of landforms (like mountains and beaches), water features (like a lake or ocean), and general topographic features (like bluffs or valleys). The natural environment also includes all the plants and animals found in the region. These geographic features are usually tied somewhat to the plot especially when related to travel, like a hero going into the forest to find an object or a character sailing the ocean to discover themselves. Natural features tend to have strong archetypal connections.
Region strongly influences CLIMATE, or the general weather patterns of a setting. Tropical climates versus temperate climates versus polar climates influence the resources available, the clothes characters wear, and even the amount of time characters spend outside. Like regions, specific weather within a climate represent well established archetypes. Winds mean change. Rain means a cleansing or purification. Dark clouds mean danger coming.
We've been talking a lot about the natural environment, but what about environments that are not natural? These are ERECTIONS, or man-made features that define place. The obvious erections in stories are the buildings characters inhabit, but mankind has erected more than just that in cities and towns: this category includes streets, tunnels, sewers, cemeteries, statues, and parking lots. Humans can erect small train cars that transport us from place to place as well as massive space stations. Mankind has erected famous landmarks as well as ruins that erode before our eyes. Humans have also taken the natural world and cultivated it, both for good (think farms and parks) and ill (think strip mines and deforestation). Erections are important in stories because they show the issue of control that the human in the story try to exert over not just nature but their lives. When characters clean, paint, repair, improve, decorate, or critique their house, they are emphasizing the erection around them.
Locales tend to help determine the REGION. Region refers to the natural environment around the local, such as the types of landforms (like mountains and beaches), water features (like a lake or ocean), and general topographic features (like bluffs or valleys). The natural environment also includes all the plants and animals found in the region. These geographic features are usually tied somewhat to the plot especially when related to travel, like a hero going into the forest to find an object or a character sailing the ocean to discover themselves. Natural features tend to have strong archetypal connections.
Region strongly influences CLIMATE, or the general weather patterns of a setting. Tropical climates versus temperate climates versus polar climates influence the resources available, the clothes characters wear, and even the amount of time characters spend outside. Like regions, specific weather within a climate represent well established archetypes. Winds mean change. Rain means a cleansing or purification. Dark clouds mean danger coming.
We've been talking a lot about the natural environment, but what about environments that are not natural? These are ERECTIONS, or man-made features that define place. The obvious erections in stories are the buildings characters inhabit, but mankind has erected more than just that in cities and towns: this category includes streets, tunnels, sewers, cemeteries, statues, and parking lots. Humans can erect small train cars that transport us from place to place as well as massive space stations. Mankind has erected famous landmarks as well as ruins that erode before our eyes. Humans have also taken the natural world and cultivated it, both for good (think farms and parks) and ill (think strip mines and deforestation). Erections are important in stories because they show the issue of control that the human in the story try to exert over not just nature but their lives. When characters clean, paint, repair, improve, decorate, or critique their house, they are emphasizing the erection around them.
CULTURE: where time and place intersect
While readers can more easily determine a general time and place in a story, its harder for them to determine cultural setting, which is a result of the intermingling of time and place together. The most easy cultural facet is identifying an ERA, or a specific well-known period in history. While some people would think that era is just a facet of time, place is also important: after all, the Civil War era and Victorian era happened at the same time, but the differences between America and England ensure that the two eras are markedly different. One of the most common eras used in stories is the modern present, a sort of moving era that takes place whenever the reader reads the story. Some eras haven't even happened yet, such as the far future. Defining an era helps readers use what historical knowledge they do have to create the cultural context of the setting.
And what is that cultural context? It often comes down to residents following norms influenced by heritage. RESIDENTS are the people that the protagonist encounters, the natives of the setting. Some settings have very outgoing residents while others have very reserved residents. Some places are densely populated, while in others you could throw a rock from ear to ear--this will define how much interaction the protagonist has. How these residents act are a result of their society's NORMS, or political and social rules. Norms can include laws, habits, and beliefs that inform the values, family roles, social mobility, and emotional state of the average resident. Norms can be determined through philosophical beliefs, political movements, and classes observed in the story, especially when the protagonist rebels against them. Norms in a society are typically a result of HERITAGE, the ancestral influences on a group of people. Markers of heritage include language (like creole in Louisiana), religion, and physical features. Heritage helps connect the setting to times of the past and even places of the past, as a majority of characters have an immigrant heritage especially in America.
And what is that cultural context? It often comes down to residents following norms influenced by heritage. RESIDENTS are the people that the protagonist encounters, the natives of the setting. Some settings have very outgoing residents while others have very reserved residents. Some places are densely populated, while in others you could throw a rock from ear to ear--this will define how much interaction the protagonist has. How these residents act are a result of their society's NORMS, or political and social rules. Norms can include laws, habits, and beliefs that inform the values, family roles, social mobility, and emotional state of the average resident. Norms can be determined through philosophical beliefs, political movements, and classes observed in the story, especially when the protagonist rebels against them. Norms in a society are typically a result of HERITAGE, the ancestral influences on a group of people. Markers of heritage include language (like creole in Louisiana), religion, and physical features. Heritage helps connect the setting to times of the past and even places of the past, as a majority of characters have an immigrant heritage especially in America.
VERISIMILITUDE: the boundary of setting
So why is setting so important? In a word, verisimilitude. Verisimilitude uses the Latin roots veri (meaning "truth") and simil (meaning "resembling," and it literally means "resembling the truth." Writing with verisimilitude seems to have been taken directly from real life, and while it seems simple, good verisimilitude is of the hardest tasks a writer faces. A writer must create a setting that is detailed enough that it could be realistic without any gaps to show its artifice. This is why seemingly minor facets like routine and heritage are so important in a setting: they are the nearly invisible parts of real life that, when added to a narrative, make the story seamless.
This is not to say that verisimilitude means your setting should be dull and just like real life. On the contrary, verisimilitude is important to every genre of writing, especially fantasy and science fiction. Fantasy and science fiction create worlds beyond our everyday experience and full of unrealistic creatures and technologies. Yet verisimilitude is important to these stories as it grounds them to the reader's life. If characters cannot relate at all to a character's world or struggles, they will ditch the story, so these stories use verisimilitude to make the characters seem like they could exist in the real world. In Harry Potter, the main characters are wizards but have relationship troubles and self-doubt, making them relatable. In Do Androids Dream of the Electric Sheep?, the plot hinges on replicants being indistinguishable from everyone else. Good verisimilitude comes when the setting is normal and everyday for the character but is new and exciting for the reader.
So how does an author create verisimilitude? Stories are believable when everything is treated as it is an everyday and natural object or event. The more an author points out how ridiculous a concept they've written is, the less true to life it feels. Good authors describe every detail of the setting with vivid imagery so the reader can clearly picture the story. They also include scenes of mundane activity, such as brushing one's teeth or riding in a car to work. Verisimilitude also goes beyond setting: characters should have flaws and conflicts that people in the real world have and speak using dialogue that wouldn't seem out of place in everyday life.
This is not to say that verisimilitude means your setting should be dull and just like real life. On the contrary, verisimilitude is important to every genre of writing, especially fantasy and science fiction. Fantasy and science fiction create worlds beyond our everyday experience and full of unrealistic creatures and technologies. Yet verisimilitude is important to these stories as it grounds them to the reader's life. If characters cannot relate at all to a character's world or struggles, they will ditch the story, so these stories use verisimilitude to make the characters seem like they could exist in the real world. In Harry Potter, the main characters are wizards but have relationship troubles and self-doubt, making them relatable. In Do Androids Dream of the Electric Sheep?, the plot hinges on replicants being indistinguishable from everyone else. Good verisimilitude comes when the setting is normal and everyday for the character but is new and exciting for the reader.
So how does an author create verisimilitude? Stories are believable when everything is treated as it is an everyday and natural object or event. The more an author points out how ridiculous a concept they've written is, the less true to life it feels. Good authors describe every detail of the setting with vivid imagery so the reader can clearly picture the story. They also include scenes of mundane activity, such as brushing one's teeth or riding in a car to work. Verisimilitude also goes beyond setting: characters should have flaws and conflicts that people in the real world have and speak using dialogue that wouldn't seem out of place in everyday life.
...and then there's MOOD
Some writing guides list mood as an elements of setting, as it creates the emotional atmosphere around a story. After all, an isolated cabin in the woods in the middle of the night that has cobwebs and broken floorboards creates a mood of unease while a similar cabin that is well-lit by a roaring fire with hot cocoa creates a mood of security. However, these guides are missing a key ingredient: style. Mood is style + setting. While the cabins are different, one is not inherently more tied to a mood than another: the run down cabin, for instance, could be the scene of a renovation story while the cozy cabin could be hiding a serial murderer inside. It is the way the author uses the settings, the style of it, that sets up the mood. There are even some stories with a very distinct, detailed settings that have no mood to speak of because it has a very dry, matter-of-fact style. In fact, all news articles discuss time and place in their reporting but can hardly be accused of having a "mood." For more on mood, read my article on style.
USING SETTING
So how can a you effectively write a setting into your story? There are some easy steps to make your setting effective:
- Start, as always, by determining the larger story conflict and protagonist. At the same time, determine the big time and place: locale, season, and era.
- Once you have locale, season, and era, you can do a little research (if you need to) or a little inventing (if you are talking about an imagined world or the future) to fill in the details of region, climate, erections, residents, norms, and heritage. It's helpful to make a list of specifics for each of these facets and fill them in. Plan for at least one notable land formation or building that sticks out in the story to make it memorable.
- Look back at your conflict and protagonist. As conflicts should upend everyday life and disrupt a character's normal routine. Establish a daily routine for your character, and find a way for the conflict to disrupt it. This doesn't have to be a major life change: a detour on the way to work that makes the character run into the antagonist is enough of a break from routine to get the job done.
- As you start to plan your plot points (point of no return, rising tension, climax, etc), determine when each one happens--at what time of day and over how many days. This will establish both hour and passage.
- Now start writing. Most stories tend to start with some immediate setting details (which is fine) but DO NOT start your story with a long-winded description of the setting--these paragraphs tend to be the death of storytelling. Take a look:
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Harvest Falls was a sleepy little town in Massachusetts known for its colorful autumnal displays, its interesting redstone rock formations , and after that fateful night on September 21, 1969, the disappearance of Martha Nash. Few were surprised by Martha's disappearance: ever since the time of the Native Americans, the woods around Harvest Falls were set to be haunted and full of sinister mischief. Legend had it that the vengeful spirits of the natives lived in the woods. Others claimed that the caves underneath Rockford Bluffs contained wild beasts no man has ever seen. It was a matter of public record that during the witch hysteria at Salem, about thirty miles up the road, two sisters by the name of Fogerty suspected of witchcraft were drowned in the Smithee River, a narrow, mellow waterway that snaked through the forest and alongside the various paved roads and covered bridges of the Old Town district. Yet the town was notoriously tight-lipped about their past, half out of fear and half out of shame, and while few believed the old ghost stories, there was an unspoken rule that everyone in town followed: never, ever go into the woods after sundown.
A rule Martha violated. The night that Martha and her dog Max disappeared was like many nights in Harvest Falls: the evening was cold and dark and the trees rustled in the late September wind, ready to fall at any moment. |
While this introduction sets up all the facets of setting, it is a dull information dump. Setting details should be like chocolate chips in a cookie--not lumped all in one bite but spread throughout so every bite is good. Layer the setting details into the action and dialogue when you need the details. Here's a better rewrite of that same opening:
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The evening was cold. The trees in the forest rustled in the late September wind, ready to fall at any moment. The sleepy town of Harvest Falls was known for their colorful autumnal displays each year, but in the moonless twilight, they all looked black. Like shadows of a real tree.
Martha sighed. "What am I doing out here?" she said to no one in particular. Her dog Max responded by laying is head in her lap, his grey muzzle soft and warm against her open palm. But she knew the answer: she was here to prove a point. Everyone in town was so afraid of the forest, and had been for centuries. As a little girl, she heard the stories from the older kids. About the ghosts of massacred Native American tribes looking for vengeance. About the entrance to Hell in the caves below Rockford Bluffs where beasts beyond imagination waited for prey. The story of the Fogerty sisters, two young girls drowned by the local minister in the Smithee River on accusations of witchcraft whose last words cursed the forest. Phooey, Martha thought. Martha was a natural skeptic, that special breed of girl known for her love of books and disdain for people. And she was out in the forest to prove a point. Not a point about bravery: she was actually scared of a lot of things. She feared the East Road covered bridge (as it dated to colonial times and was due for a collapse any day, she reasoned). She feared flying in airplanes (if something goes wrong there's nothing you can do). She feared the girls who hung out and smoked in the upstairs bathroom at school (who teased her for her mousy hair and flat chest). But she did not fear the woods at night. While the adults in town never talked about the superstitions that surrounded Harvest Woods--Martha believed this was half out of shame and half out of their own irrational fear--the town had very clear unwritten rule that no one should venture into the woods after sunset. The tight-lipped community wouldn't say why, but they were sure to warn every traveler staying in town and would keep their kids indoors after supper, just in case. But Martha wasn't like the rest of the town. She went to the same Methodist church as all of her neighbors, but she didn't believe in religion. She ignored the school dance and the fall football games (a town even resulting in all the main street businesses shutting down early). All she really cared about was science. Martha believed that, through science and its wonders, mankind could unlock the potential of the whole world. In just the sixteen years she had been alive, science had unlocked the secrets of DNA, had cured polio, and had just put a man on the moon a couple of months ago. Martha was in awe. The future was coming, with science leading the way, and she wanted to be part of it. That's why she was in these woods. To prove the town wrong. To show the superstitious scaredy cats in Harvest Falls that reason trumped superstition every time, and that a little girl with mousy hair and glasses could do something that even the toughest biker at Al's Saloon was too afraid to do. Sure, the woods were dark and the only maps she could find in the library were old and hard to read, but she figured if Neil Armstrong could venture into the cold lifeless vacuum of space and step foot on the moon, then she could step into the darkness of Harvest Woods. With Max by her side and the sun disappearing behind the hills, she crossed the Smithee River into the wood, unsure of what she'd find. But it's what found her that's the real story. |
All the major setting details are still present in this version, but they are tied to the conflict, the character, and the action in a subtle way. This is the difference between showing and telling when you are writing scenery. There is a story reason for all the details, not just a "look-at-how-good-of-a-writer-I-am-because-I-followed-the-checklist" reason. Setting should always color in the story with its details but should rarely be the focus itself. Think of it almost like a side character in the story--it needs to be described and you need to have a reason for it to be there, but it shouldn't take too much focus from the protagonist.