Worldbuilding is one of those nuggets of authorial awesomeness that makes writing such a fun and rewarding venture. It means I can create a world with my very own rules. Twelve year old me says, “Sweet!” Grown up me finds the puzzle intriguing but the logistics occasionally overwhelming. But boiled down to the barest bits, worldbuilding is fun!
What does worldbuilding mean in practical terms? As applied to my Lost Library world?
- Magic is real.
- Vampires don’t necessarily suck blood.
- A minor burial mistake, and you might just create a ghost.
- And Lycan aren’t werewolves.
Because it’s my world, and I say so. In fact, my Lycan get a little huffy when you mention werewolves. A change that’s tied to the lunar cycle, a grotesque half-man and half-wolf form, and no control of one’s second form? My Lycan peeps say, “No, thanks.”
The following is an excerpt from Lost Library, the first book in the series of the same name. The main character, John, is cruising the neighborhood in wolf form, using his excellent sniffer to suss out any signs of danger when he’s spotted in a moment of distraction by the heroine.
John caught just a hint of…something. He wasn’t sure exactly what. Not Lycan, but also not quite human. It had intrigued him enough to delay him past the point of discretion. With an almost full moon, there had been enough light for her to catch him investigating her car. John had been reluctant to leave the car without a more thorough investigation, since he suspected it was the source of the odd smell. But the faint scent was gone, as if it was never there.
The timing was terrible. She could hardly think his intense interest in her car was normal behavior for…for whatever she thought he was. Then he’d seen her expressive face light up with surprise, turn up to the nearly full moon, and settle into confusion. Really? A bloated moon, a moment of distracting scent, and he was outed? The especially ridiculous part was that her conclusion was right, but the basis couldn’t be more flawed. Where the myth arose that werewolves were affected or even controlled by the moon, he didn’t know. But the fat, cheery moon, shining brightly down on him as he slipped away, seemed to be mocking him.
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This post is part of a blog tour promoting the sheer awesomeness and creativity of Broad Universe, an international organization dedicated to promoting fantasy, science fiction, and horror written by women. (Guys: Come on; join us!) I hope you’ll take a moment to scope out this great group! Want more BU blog-hopping goodness? Check out the participants below!