When I was a kid, I used to spend hours dreaming up imaginary civilizations and writing their histories (I stumbled upon one of these histories recently and noticed that, in its unfinished state, it was just a little bit shorter than my Master’s thesis!). I would take bits and pieces from the real world civilizations I was reading about and combine them into fantastic shapes. It would be scant exaggeration to say that I spent most of my childhood immersed in these fantastic realms.
All that ended up being good practice for fantasy writing. Even though my stories are all set in the ‘real world,’ the presence of magical elements allows me to do a lot of worldbuilding. Usually, it’s in the form of a system of magic or the backstory that shapes the events I’m writing about.
While worldbuilding is a lot of fun, you have to be careful because there’s always a strong temptation to fill your writing with all the delicious details of the world you’ve created. An egregious example of this would by H. P. Lovecraft’s novella At the Mountains of Madness. The story is chugging along fine (at least by Lovecraft standards) until the protagonists enter the ruined Antarctic city of the Old Ones. Then, the reader is forced to endure pages and pages of the narrator telling you about the history and society of the Old Ones, as gleaned from their wall decoration. (The idea that human scientists could divine that much information about the Old Ones from their wall carvings strikes me as ludicrous. We have a hard enough time interpreting ancient Egyptian art, let alone the art of an alien civilization!) It’s not even that the material is necessarily boring; it’s just that such a lengthy digression dissipates the atmosphere of suspense.
J. K Rowling, on the other hand, is much better at working her worldbuilding into her writing. She does an excellent job of hinting at the details that underly the story without going off on tangents about the parliamentary procedure used in the Wizengamot or the relationship between Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw during the interwar years. Rowling realized, unlike Lovecraft, that you need to keep the story going without bogging the reader down in endless minutiae.
