When I sit down to create a universe, one of the things that draws me in the most is the depth of history I can give it. Take the Terran First and Second Empires in the Merchant of Vision universe, for example. While some people might look at it and think, “Is all of that really necessary?” I can tell you, without hesitation, that for me, it absolutely is. It’s not just about creating a backdrop for a story; it’s about making that backdrop a living, breathing piece of the world itself. I believe that the richness and complexity in those histories make the characters’ struggles more real, and the stakes more personal.
Think about the wars we’ve read about in our own world—the rise and fall of empires, the cultural shifts, the ideological battles. All of those elements shape how we view history, and they inspire our own stories today. When I was crafting the Prophet’s War and the split between the First and Second Empires, I thought about how real historical conflicts reverberate across generations. I didn’t want the collapse of the Terran Empire to be a footnote; I wanted it to leave a mark on every faction, every leader, and every world that came afterward.
I know it might seem daunting, even obsessive, to go into such detail. But, as someone with a neurodivergent brain, this process gives me comfort and clarity. There’s a unique satisfaction that comes from knowing the precise cause of a power struggle or why an alliance shifted a thousand years ago. Every name on the map, every faction’s backstory, and every trade route represents something deeply personal to me—a reflection of how I see the universe, both real and imagined.
One of the most rewarding things about world-building is that even the pieces that might never make it into the final draft still matter. Even if readers don’t know all the specifics, they can feel that history exists, just beneath the surface, giving the world weight and believability. The Prophet’s War isn’t just a plot device to me—it’s a manifestation of my fascination with how history shapes the present and future, both in our world and in the fictional worlds I create.
So, why do I go to such lengths to create this web of histories, wars, and empires? Because it’s not just about telling a story, it’s about inviting people into a universe. A universe that, to me, feels as real as the one we live in.
I’ve spent years—decades, even—working on this, sometimes poring over trade routes or political histories for hours just to make sure the pieces fit together. There have been times when I’ve had to walk away for a while, overwhelmed by the scope. But I always come back. I come back because I know that every time I dive into the intricacies of the galaxy, I’m building something that, while complex, is deeply fulfilling to me. And I hope that when readers experience it, they’ll feel a bit of that same sense of wonder and awe that I felt as a kid when I first realized that I could create entire galaxies of my own.
At the end of the day, this journey has been about more than just writing a book. It’s about embracing my passions, leaning into what I love—even if it’s complicated—and knowing that the worlds I create will resonate with those who are willing to dive deep. And that’s why, even though it seems complex to some, it feels like home to me.
No comments:
Post a Comment