In Part 1 of this article I quoted Frank Herbert, author of the Dune series, as saying, “The highest function of ecology is the understanding of consequences.” I used it to develop the idea that world building in speculative fiction is like throwing a pebble into a lake and watching how the ripples affect everything around it. I’m calling it The Ripple Effect. I asked you to imagine the difference when a large rock causes such a huge splash it triggers a change in the conditions of the water, then compare it to how a small pebble will generate a small ‘plop’ and a ripple or two that only the ducks notice.

I’ve asked authors from Spotlight Indie to explain how it works in their books.

Rule 1: Originality

In an earlier Wednesday Writer’s Wisdom article, I included the thoughts of fantasy author LL MacRae because I wanted Lauren’s input on the way she uses the natural world to inform her storytelling. I described it as her USP, her Unique Selling Point. I pestered invited Lauren to contribute to this World Building article for this reason, to emphasize the value of telling stories that find their own world building  niche.

Here’s what Lauren said, “It’s been said that there are no original stories anymore, and every book is a rehash of something that already exists. Bringing new and original features to existing tropes and archetypes can make your story stand out in its genre, while also giving it a great talking point! Unique ideas (along with characters) are what readers remember your stories by, so I consider including several of these original ideas to be very important with my own writing. For example, in my Dragon Spirits series I take the typical, familiar western-style dragon and combine it with the idea of them being spirits of nature or certain materials (iron, gold) which gives them a fun twist on an expected classic!”

I find it fascinating to consider a world where minerals like iron and gold can be invested with a dragon’s spirit. It makes you wonder not only how it works but what “ripples” it generates throughout the world. When a dragon’s spirit can inhabit minds, as well as minerals, it poses physical and psychological consequences – yet again, another example of conflict appearing in both the micro and the macrocosm. That’s how you make originality work for you!

Rule 2: Conflict

If you’re familiar with the work of Frank Dorrian and his Horns of the Hunter books you’ll know what a hugely talented writer he is and how his stories plumb such deep grimdark depths. No one, in my opinion, writes fight scenes like Frank. I asked him to contribute to this article knowing his wisdom would help define the “ripple effect” that conflict can bring to world building. Sure enough, Frank delivered! Read this and be amazed:

“In Horns of the Hunter, the world isn’t a passive backdrop, it’s an ongoing churn of conflicting ideologies, cultures, and factions. It’s a world broken time and time again by strife, echoed in the main narrative through the bitter hatred between Náith and Luw. Their grudges for one another mirror the deeper, widespread hatred of their respective factions, making every clash carry fragments of history. In this way, their inherent conflict serves as the plot’s engine. They’re warring on the ashes of those who danced these same steps over countless years, constantly escalating the stakes by tying their personal feud to the fate of the world around them.”

The battles fought by Náith and Luw spring from a deep-seated rivalry, one that goes well beyond anything rational that can be assuaged by words and reason. Frank talks about how this bloody rivalry is a microcosm of what’s happening in the wider world. It’s a comment on the same feuds and hatred we see in our own world, reaffirming how fantasy can so often be a dark reflection of our own societies. Beyond that, take note of Frank’s key takeaway – “conflict serves as the plot’s engine”. For this to happen, conflict needs to project large and small ripples across the narrative, appearing in relationships, societal structures, cultural expectations and norms, political strategies and personal motivations. It needs to be everywhere. That’s not an easy ask but a necessary one.

I asked Frank to recommend a book by another author that captures this concept; once again his choice was perfect. Blackwing by Ed McDonald is another story driven by conflict in many forms and, like Frank’s, is a story that stays with you long after reading the last page.

Rule 3: Magic

Magic is a helpful device to send ripples of all descriptions across the world. That said, it needs to be clearly defined, with explicit limitations, causes and consequences. It also needs to be credible and consistent.

One of my own novels provides a good example of this concept; it was a rare occasion when the world building arrived in my head ahead of the characterisation! It was the first time the idea of ‘ripples’ in world building occurred to me. I began imagining what might happen if magic was lethally poisonous, that magic users risked their lives by using it. It led to a world that depended on the work of mages who manipulated the elements. If your business relied on a mage to maintain your airships, or to provide water to communities, or fire to heat businesses or fuel furnaces, you wouldn’t care if you needed to replace them every few years, you’d just hire more. Add to that idea that as a mage’s health deteriorated, they went insane, meaning they could cause immense damage, they would pose a real danger. These ripples led to a society that didn’t value human life, where profit came first. My next question – can you guess? Why is magic poisonous? Answer? It’s derived from below the earth and recent archaeological work had unearthed the cause. Radiation.

‘City of Onyx’ is a story about a second-level mage who is so bad at his job he reverts to robbery. He’s the most accidental of all heroes, mainly because he had to operate outside the traditional societal parameters in order to defeat them. Everything in the story is driven by dropping the enormous boulder into my allegorical lake – magic is poisonous.

Rule 4: The world must define the protagonist

When I invited the Spotlight Indie authors to contribute to this article, the reaction from Patrick Samphire dictated this category. He said, “I don’t believe in world building.” In this respect, he’s like Andrzej Sapkowskiwho has famously stated the world exists only to reflect the qualities of his hero, Geralt of Rivia. Here’s what Patrick says on the issue: “I don’t really believe in world building, not in the sense of building a world and then setting a story in it. My process is to create a story and characters and then have the way the world is and how it works, reflect the characters and story. For instance, in my Mennik Thorn books, the city in which it’s set, with its contradictions, its corruption, its hope, and its farcical nature, is built entirely to reflect and challenge the main character. To me, that’s the point of world building. The same is true for the magic in the series, where magic comes from the rotting remains of dead gods. Again, this corruption underlying the power of the world, reflects and intensifies the character’s struggles. Nothing in world building is worth having, in my opinion, if it doesn’t make life more difficult for our heroes. Oh yeah, and it can also make it much funnier.”

The world, for some, is a character in a story. It the interplay between the two that matters. You don’t need to know everything about the character, only enough to understand that interplay. It’s an interesting comparison to the world described by Frank Dorrian, where every element drives the plot. The difference can be found in the scale of the world and its impact on its characters. Patrick’s example has a city and its inherent magic impacting on its protagonist, Frank is at the other extreme, the whole world dictates the protagonists’ behaviour. The ripples remain; their impact is defined by the size of the lake.

Conclusion

The two articles on world building have focused on “the ripple effect” – detailing the consequences of decisions taken to create the background of a narrative arc. My indie author friends from Spotlight Indie have commented on the ways in which they interpret their approach to world building and I hope their different approaches have inspired you. The simple truth is that there is no one way to approach world building – it depends on what you’re trying to do with your story. For me, that is the source of real wisdom, let your world behave in a way that meets your needs.

It’s worth emphasizing that, according to the NielsenIQ BookData trends from its 2025 data, fantasy fiction is growing in popularity – big time! This growth is driven, in no small way, by the impact of self-published authors who are writing in sub-genres that confound the traditional models preferred by traditional publishers. If you are one of those indie authors, be confident in the knowledge that your world building might be a factor that attracts an audience. We are writing in a publishing landscape where new worlds appear all the time – much to the appreciation of our readers. Go, be brave, explore and conquer new lands!