An immersive world is one of the most important elements of fantasy—and really, of all fiction. Would The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe be the same story without the eternal winter of Narnia? Or would the adventure of The Hobbit have the same appeal without the safety of the Shire for Bilbo to return to at the end? Worldbuilding is an essential skill for every writer, so let’s take a look at some good places to get started.

1. Grounding Principle

Whether you like it or not, the world you create will affect everything else in your story. A story set in a warm and summery world won’t pair well with a cynical protagonist. Conversely, a dark and gloomy setting isn’t ideal for a hopeful children’s story.

So, as you begin to develop the plot and characters for your story, take the time to consider how the setting will play into the rest of the story. Ideally, the grounding principle of the setting should be intrinsically connected with the story’s theme. The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe is about good overcoming evil, and the melting winter of Narnia illustrates that through the setting. For a more subtle example, The Voyage of the Dawn Treader critiques the idea of progress for the sake of progress, and so throughout the story, the evil characters act and speak in a more modern way (even the Narnian characters!).

Sometimes, the grounding principle of the setting can give rise to a story idea all its own. Recently, I was struggling with writer’s block, and so I decided to start brainstorming a new story to give my creativity a reboot. After a difficult few days, I was walking outside in freshly fallen snow, and felt completely relaxed for the first time in several days. So, I decided I wanted to write a story set in the far north of a fantasy world, where everything was snowy for most of the year. And from that idea of snow came a dozen characters (and eventually a plot).

Or you can come at this from the opposite direction—beginning with the story idea and developing the setting to support it. The idea for Tangled Threads came to me when I was around ten years old, and I scribbled down a few lines before I gave it up. But one of the reasons the story didn’t work the first time (aside from the fact that it had no plot whatsoever) was that the setting did nothing to support the rest of the story. It was just a generic forest in an indeterminate location.

So when I returned to Tangled Threads last fall, I gave more thought to the setting. What would a dream world really look like? How big would it be? How could the characters’ thoughts affect the world around them? I tied the answers to those questions into the setting, which strengthened the theme of the story (and also made it so much easier to write!).

Either way, the setting needs to tie into the grounding principle, or main idea, of your story. This will make the story more cohesive—plus it makes it so much easier to create an interesting story.

2. Immersive Details

Once you have a grounding principle for your setting, the next step is creating immersive details for your story world. A snowy world is a great starting place—but that’s not where I ended in my worldbuilding last week. Instead, I kept asking myself questions: What resources would be scarce because of the cold climate? How would the struggle to survive affect the personality of the characters? Does the magic system stem from or contribute to the weather? What types of clothing is best in the cold?

There’s really no end to the level of details you can derive from your grounding principle when you keep asking questions. Once I figured out that coal and wood were scarce resources, I started to ask myself what trade systems were in place to spread those resources into remote areas—and on it went from there. Not all of these details will make it into your final story (after all, my story isn’t focused on my fictional coal industry), but having them in your head will help the world feel more immersive to your readers.

Creating immersive details is the part of worldbuilding where real-life knowledge really comes in handy—and this can pose a challenge for young writers. As an eighteen-year-old, I simply don’t have the same level of life experience as most adult writers, but there are a few ways to overcome this challenge.

One good place to start is simply by following questions to their logical conclusions. For example, I decided to have my characters take dogsleds for part of their journey—not because I know anything whatsoever about dogsledding (I watched the animated movie Balto, and that’s about it)—but because that’s the most efficient way to travel quickly across ice and snow.

But of course, logic alone isn’t enough to create a fully immersive world—you have to pair logic with research. I’ll be spending the next few weeks scouring the Internet and my local library for everything I can learn about dogsleds. I’ve already done extensive research on historical food, clothing, and weaponry. The more research you do, the more knowledge you have to draw from when you’re creating your world.

The third, and most difficult, way to create immersive detail is to experience for yourself what your characters are living through. Of course, this isn’t always going to be possible. But it’s also easy to cocoon yourself in a world of books, and consider reading fiction to be adequate research for writing fiction.

By all means, keep reading. It’s one of the best ways you can improve your writing skills. But by confining your research to books, you risk two things: first, that you repeat the mistakes of other authors; and second, that your writing will lack life.

So as much as you can, seek out the sorts of experiences your characters have. Pay attention to the details in the world around you. Study textiles when you visit a museum. Take a fencing or archery class. Go ride a horse or shoot a gun. Watch online videos of traditional dancing—or whatever else interests you.

This becomes easier when you lean into your unique strengths. Do you enjoy music? Create a culture centered around music. Can you bake bread from scratch? Invent unique pastries for your fictional world. And on goes the list.

This, personally, is one of my favorite parts of the writing process—the part where I get to infuse my fictional world with my own personality. Writing, in the end, isn’t about self-expression—it’s about glorifying God and serving your neighbor. But if you can work in some self-expression while you’re at it, writing becomes all the more enjoyable.

3. Embrace Mystery

Not everything in the world makes sense. In fact, most things in the world don’t make sense. I only have a basic understanding of the laptop I’m using right now, even though I’ve had it for years. I’ve often thought how embarrassing it would be to welcome a visitor from another world—Aragorn would ask for an explanation of electric lighting, and I wouldn’t be able to give it.

But this is actually very comforting as a writer and worldbuilder. I don’t have to understand everything in my fictional world, because no one does. Yes, I need to put in good research. But once I’ve done that, it’s all right to have some empty spaces. In fact, it’s better if there are.

Mysteries lead the reader to ponder. Lewis doesn’t explain the exact nature of the Deep Magic that brings Aslan back to life. Instead, he barely mentions it—and this allows the reader space for wonder and curiosity. Was that Deep Magic always in existence, or was it created after the Fall? Why doesn’t the White Witch know about it? And the questions could continue without end.

These “empty spaces” invite the reader to enter into your world through curiosity and question-asking. They allow the reader to worldbuild for themselves—imagining endings for characters or monsters for uncharted lands.

Mystery isn’t an excuse for lazy worldbuilding or research—but if you’re the type who likes to plan (like me), don’t forget to leave room for wonder and curiosity in your world.

One very simple technique is to draw a map of your world—but not the whole world. When I was planning my novel The Star and the Sword (currently in the editing process!), I sketched a map of the main country, Illuvia. As the story progressed over a trilogy, I added three additional countries. Two of them are visited, and one is only mentioned. And beyond those countries are more that even I don’t know about.

That mystery leaves room for the reader’s imagination to play in. What does lurk beyond the borders of the known world? What do the characters not know about the world they live it? Questions like this not only make your world feel more real—they also invite the reader to return to it time and time again.

The topic of worldbuilding could fill a shelf full of books (as indeed it has). But if you’re just getting started with writing—or if you’re more experienced but are looking for some easy tips—these three techniques will help you bring your settings to the next level.