CONTENTS

1
03
Meet Your Instructor:
N. K. Jemisin
The award-winning science fiction
and fantasy writer has always soaked
up the world around her. Now, she
creates her own
05
Speculative Fiction 101
A guide to 20 of the most
common subgenres
ASSIGNMENT
Explore various subgenres
with a freewriting exercise
08
How I Write
N. K. on the routines, schedules, and
word counts that form her process
09
What Is Element X?
A look at how some of the most
popular speculative fiction series
in literature, film, and TV have
employed this creative device
11
MACRO-WORLDBUILDING PART I:
Creating a New
World From Scratch
Why creating a map for the world you
build can be the most important first
step you take
ASSIGNMENT
Practice acculturation–or how your
characters fit into society
13
MACRO-WORLDBUILDING PART II:
Reimagine a Familiar Place
Even when you’re writing stories
that are set in real places, a map
remains essential
ASSIGNMENT
Create a compelling scenario by
pairing a New York landmark with
one of several writing prompts
15
Brick by Brick
Five tips for successful worldbuilding
17
Melt the Iceberg
How you can strike the right balance
between revealing too much and
sharing too little
19
Developing Unique
Characters
The “rugged individualist” is an over-
used (and limiting) trope. When
you’re writing, consider how you can
create fresh archetypes
ASSIGNMENT
Develop a new character by using
N. K.’s pyramid model
ASSIGNMENT
Brainstorm two characters in your
new world, one who is privileged and
the other who is marginalized
24
How to Hook Your Reader
Advice for capturing your reader’s
attention—and keeping it
ASSIGNMENT
Try out different techniques for
hooking a reader
25
You Are Your First Editor:
A Note On Self-Editing
How to revise your work
27
How to Join a
Writing Group
A community of peers can help you
with everything from idea gestation
to rejection commiseration
ASSIGNMENT
Write from the perspective of a child
29
Surviving the
Publishing Industry
What to know when you’re ready
to share your writing with the world
ASSIGNMENT
How you can remain safe if and when
your profile grows
32
N. K.’s Speculative
Fiction Syllabus
Novels, films, and short story
collections aspiring writers
should be familiar with
2
Meet Your Instructor:

N. K. JEMISIN
The award-winning science fiction and fantasy writer has always
soaked up the world around her. Now, she creates her own

3
L
ong before N. K. Jemisin
built worlds for millions of
readers, the acclaimed sci-
ence fiction and fantasy
writer explored the worlds around
her. Born Nora Keita Jemisin in Iowa
and raised between New York City
and Mobile, Alabama, she spent her
childhood in motion—strolling
around Brooklyn with her father,
camping in the Catskills, and visiting
Iowa, Chicago, and Paris, she was
bombarded with intriguing sights
and sounds, all of which she eagerly
absorbed.
Even when she was rooted in one
place, N. K. found other conduits to
continue this immersion: books. Sci-
ence fiction and fantasy became her
favorite refuges, exposing her to dy-
namic new environments and daring
storytelling. She was so bewitched by
the genres, in fact, that she began to
sneakily read books during class. By
age eight, N. K. had also “started writ-
ing about talking animals and the
apocalypse,” as she explained in her
2013 essay “How Long ’Til Black Fu-
ture Month?”
Though N. K. was a dutiful writer
and reader of speculative fiction (see
“Speculative Fiction 101” on page 5),
as her high school graduation
loomed, she saw no viable path a to-
ward a profession in literature. In-
stead, she studied psychology at Tu-
lane University and became a college
career counselor.
But she kept writing and reading.
Her counseling career mirrored the
nomadic path of her youth—she
moved from New Orleans to Mary-
land to Massachusetts to New
York—and she found writers’ groups
and workshops along the way, hon-
ing her craft and connecting with
other aspiring creatives (see “How to
Join a Writing Group” on page 27).
Slowly, she transformed herself from
hobbyist to artisan.
After a premature “midlife crisis”
at age 30, N. K. started to reap the re-
wards of the effort and focus she put
into her writing. By the mid-2000s,
she had one of her short stories,
“Cloud Dragon Skies,” published in
the speculative fiction magazine
Strange Horizons, and she landed an
agent thanks to an early manuscript
for her novel The Killing Moon. (It
was published in 2012.) She began
an ascent from anonymity to work-
ing as a book reviewer (she would
contribute a column, Otherworldly,
for The New York Times’ Book Review
from 2016 to 2018) and teaching oth-
er writers at workshops. Most im-
portantly, though, she was telling
bolder, more daring stories. Eventu-
ally, her dedication paid off. In 2010,
Orbit Books published N. K.’s The
Hundred Thousand Kingdoms, an
epic fantasy about a young outcast
who inherits a powerful kingdom
and becomes embroiled in a fierce
power struggle. It was the first in-
stallment in what would become the
Inheritance Trilogy, a powerhouse
series that launched her into the
modern science fiction canon.
In the years since, N. K.’s expan-
sive body of work has included short
stories, novels, novellas, and comic
books. In her short stories, she’s
plotted espionage and love (“The
Effluent Engine”), taken readers to
a magic restaurant (“Cuisine des
Mémoires”), and spun a tale about
doomed space colonists living on a
distant moon (“The Brides of Heav-
en”). Her novels have explored the
horrific seismology of an earth with-
out a moon and one woman’s epic
attempt to retrieve it (the Broken
Earth Trilogy), and her contributions
to the comic book genre include a
reimagining of the iconic superhero
Green Lantern (Far Sector).
In 2016, N. K. won her first Hugo
Award, considered speculative fic-
tion’s highest honor, for The Fifth
Season, the first volume in her Broken
Earth Trilogy. She would go on to
win three more Hugos (including a
consecutive three-peat, from 2016 to
2018, for each book in her Broken
Earth Trilogy) and be nominated a
total of seven times.
Through it all, perhaps what cap-
tivates both readers and prize com-
mittees most is N. K.’s exceptional
worldbuilding skills. While the initial
germ of an idea often sprouts from
her dreams, during her writing and
worldbuilding process N. K. fre-
quently commits to the type of re-
search often used by geologists or
ethnographers conducting field
studies. A 2020 profile of the author
in The New Yorker highlighted how,
in developing what would become
The Fifth Season, N. K. “flew to Ha-
waii to smell sulfur and ash” to “get a
firsthand feel for volcanoes” and “re-
searched end-of-days survivalists”
to “learn how people prepared for
environmental stress.” In the worlds
she cultivates, she takes care to flesh
out everything from their laws of
physics to their environmental states
and how major climatological or as-
tronomical changes impact not only
the physical world but also the polit-
ical, societal, and cultural ones. It’s
thanks to this considered ap-
proach—one that continually asks
questions like “If X happens, how
does that affect Y?”—that has bur-
nished her reputation as, in the
words of John Scalzi, the former
president of the Science Fiction &
Fantasy Writers of America, “argu-
ably the most important speculative
writer of her generation.”
N. K. wants to teach you how to do
the same by revealing her approach
to worldbuilding, showing how a fer-
tile foundation enables narratives
and ideas to blossom in all their
complexity and richness. “Fiction is
about making it feel right,” she says.
Worldbuilding is an act of explora-
tion, and the better equipped you are,
the farther you can go.
4
 A guide to 20 of the most common subgenres

S
peculative fiction is some-
thing of a literary super-
genre. Books that fall into
this category typically
change the laws of nature and phys-
ics, the course of recorded history,
and the very structure of the uni-
verse as we know it—then they
speculate on the outcome of those
modifications. Science fiction and
fantasy both fall under this umbrel-
la, as do a number of other subge-
nres. N. K. likes to blur the lines be-
tween many of them. “There’s a
common perception out there that
science fiction is purely science and
that fantasy is purely magical and
historical,” N. K. says. “The truth of
the matter, though, is that what the
audience believes is what matters.”
You might have seen terms like
science fiction, fantasy, or speculative
fiction used interchangeably. Ac-
cording to N. K., the distinctions be-
tween each are overshadowed by
what they have in common. “At the
end of the day, it’s all speculative
stuff,” she says. “It’s not our world.
It’s not our reality, it’s not our time.
And there are a lot of different ways
that you can convey that. You aren’t
stuck in the past when you’re writ-
ing fantasy—you can write fantasy
set in the future. You aren’t stuck in
space when you’re writing about
science fiction. And a lot of the
things that we traditionally think of
as science fiction are actually fanta-
sy when you dig a little bit past the
surface.”
While you should take N. K.’s en-
couragement to heart and let your
imagination run wild—uncon-
strained by notions of categories,
tropes, or supposed “rules” when
embarking on a writing project of
your own—it’s nevertheless helpful
to become familiar with the multi-
tude of subgenres that fall under the
speculative fiction tent. Discover 20
of the most common here:

FAIRY TALES
Fairy tales and folktales are
typically set in distant magi-
cal worlds (with beginnings
like “Once upon a time, in a
land far, far away…”) where
trolls, dragons, witches, and
other supernatural charac-
ters are an accepted truth, as
in the Brothers Grimm’s
Grimm’s Fairy Tales. While
the Brothers Grimm original-
ly wrote their stories for an
adult audience—plots that
included infanticide, unin-
tended pregnancy, and can-
nibalism might come as a
shock for contemporary fans
of the genre—they published
later collections geared to-
ward middle-class parents
and their children, which
would later receive an even
more cheerful, sanitized
gloss in their various incarna-
tions for film and television.
DYSTOPIAN FANTASY
Dystopian fantasies imagine
worlds gone wrong. The set-
tings are at once familiar to
contemporary audiences
and also alarmingly worse
than the present world. Jack
Vance’s Dying Earth series is
a pulpy example.
URBAN FANTASY
In urban fantasy, fantastical supernatural elements and
characters and concepts are creatures like zombies, vam-
placed in a real-world setting, pires, and demons. The Dres-
often in the present day. Fre- den Files by Jim Butcher and
quently drawing from noir American Gods by Neil
and gritty police procedurals, Gaiman are good examples
they may also incorporate of the subgenre.

5

PARANORMAL
ROMANCE
This fantasy subgenre com-
bines romantic themes with
fantasy elements like vam-
pires, werewolves, shifters,
faeries, and zombie armies.
Patricia Briggs (Moon Called)
and Jeaniene Frost (Halfway
to the Grave) are popular au-
thors in this subgenre.
DARK FANTASY
Combining elements of fan-
tasy with horror, dark fantasy
aims to unnerve and frighten
readers with paranormal set-
tings and supernatural ele-
ments, as exemplified by the
work of Gertrude Barrows
Bennett, an early pioneer of
this story style.
GRIMDARK FANTASY
One step beyond dark fanta-
sy, grimdark novels pry into
the blackest depths of the
human condition, often in the
proverbial underbelly of an
alternate world. The Court of
Broken Knives by Anna Smith
Spark is a good place to start.
cifics vary with specific nov- ments of medieval fantasy
els. Soulless by Gail Carriger and romance in his A Song of
is a well-regarded example of Ice and Fire series (the
the genre. source material for HBO’s
Game of Thrones).
LOW FANTASY
Set in the real world, low fan-
tasy includes unexpected
magical elements that sur-
prise ordinary characters,
like the plastic figurines that
come to life in Lynne Reid
Banks’s The Indian in the
Cupboard.
HIGH FANTASY
Sometimes called “epic fan-
tasy,” high fantasy is set in a
magical environment that SWORD AND SORCERY
has its own rules and physical A subset of high fantasy, this
laws. This subgenre’s plots subgenre focuses on
and themes have a grand sword-wielding heroes—such
scale and typically center on as the titular barbarian in
a single, well-developed hero Robert E. Howard’s Conan the
or a band of heroes, such as Barbarian pulp fiction sto-
Frodo Baggins and his co- ries—as well as on magic or
horts in J. R. R. Tolkien’s The witchcraft. J. K. Rowling popu-
Lord of the Rings series. larized the sword and sorcery
SUPERHERO FICTION
George R. R. Martin com- subgenre for young adults
Whether a hero protagonist with her Harry Potter series.
bines high fantasy with ele-
acquires special abilities
through scientific means (i.e.,
exposure to radiation) or via
more supernatural means,
this genre typically focuses
on how superheroes use
these abilities to fight super-
villains. Many superhero sto-
ries are set in a low fantasy
world quite similar to our
own. Whether Wonder Wom-
an or Spider-Man, Batman or
Thor, many superheroes
have appeared in comic
book form and, as such, this
subgenre is also sometimes
known as comic fantasy or
comic book fantasy.
STEAMPUNK FANTASY
This highly specific subgenre
combines the Victorian sci-
ence and technology of the
Industrial Revolution with
contemporary takes on ro-
bots and machines. Accord-
ingly, steampunk fantasy is
at once alternate history, sci-
ence fantasy, and modern
fantasy—although the spe-
6
 everything they can to stay
alive—for example, trying to
avoid a deadly plague, as in
Mary Shelley’s The Last Man.

WUXIA FANTASY
This subgenre is rooted in
classic Chinese literature and
involves elements of fantasy
interspersed with martial
arts, as can be found in Jade
City by Fonda Lee.
FABLES
Using personified animals
and the supernatural, fables
impart moral lessons, like the
stories in Aesop’s Fables and
The Arabian Nights.
ARTHURIAN FANTASY
These stories exist in a magi-
cal world of King Arthur, al-
though Arthur himself is not
always the main character.
Due to their setting, Arthuri-
an fantasy novels and short
stories tend to feature mythic
creatures like dragons, and
many of the heroes are
knights—which also makes
them part of the heroic fanta-
sy subgenre.
FANTASY OF MANNERS
Exemplified by fantasy
books like Gormenghast by
Mervyn Peake, this subge-
nre combines supernatural
worldbuilding with the type
of society-centric concerns
one might encounter in a
work by Edith Wharton.
APOCALYPTIC FICTION
Taking place before and
during a huge disaster that
wipes out a significant por-
tion of the world’s population,
stories in this subgenre usu-
ally feature characters doing
POSTAPOCALYPTIC
FICTION
These stories take place after
an apocalyptic event and fo-
cus on survivors navigating Narnia series by C. S. Lewis
their new circumstances— and Alice’s Adventures in
emerging after a global nucle- Wonderland by Lewis Carroll.
ar holocaust, say, or surviving
a total breakdown of society, SCIENCE FICTION
as depicted in books like Cor-
Often known by its shorthand,
mac McCarthy’s The Road
sci-fi, these stories can be set
and Octavia Butler’s Parable
in any variety of time periods
of the Sower.
and typically feature imag-
ined technologies that don’t
MAGICAL REALISM
exist in the real world (think
Magical realism characters time travel, aliens, or robots).
accept fantastical elements Sci-fi can also overlap with
like levitation and telekinesis fantasy in stories that estab-
as a normal part of their oth- lish a new world where scien-
erwise realistic world. Gabriel tific advancements have
García Márquez’s One Hun- changed the rules of engage-
dred Years of Solitude and ment while still incorporating
Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s magical elements. Star Wars
Children are excellent exam- and the various works of
ples of this subgenre. Isaac Asimov are prime ex-
amples of this crossover.
CROSSWORLDS
FANTASY
Sometimes called portal fan-
tasy, this subgenre involves
characters transporting from
a normal world to a magical
one. This requires authors to
engage in both magical
worldbuilding and grounded,
realistic worldbuilding.
Crossworlds fantasy stories
often appeal to children, as
seen in the The Chronicles of

SUBGENRE
FREEWRITE
Pick one of the subgenres above and
spend 30 minutes freewriting within it
every day (or as many days as possi-
ble) for one week. Let your imagina-
tion run wild, and don’t put pressure
on yourself to adhere to any page
count or structure. If writing long pas-
sages seems daunting, consider
making lists filled with character
ideas (see page 22), worldbuilding in-
spiration (see page 12), or potential
conflicts. Bubble charts or family
trees could be other helpful methods
for sparking creativity. After one
week, use what you’ve written to set
up a scene or a chapter in your novel
or short story.
Repeat this exercise with a differ-
ent subgenre from the speculative
fiction list when you’re having trouble
starting a new project. Pick one at
random for an extra challenge.

7
HOW I
WRITE
N. K. shares the routines,
schedules, and word counts
that form her process
I
do not recommend that
anyone follow another au-
thor’s writing routines—
that’s a fantastic way to in-
crease anxiety. But for those
who want to know:
Now that I write full-time, I
generally prefer to work between
11 a.m. and 5 or 6 p.m. When I had
a day job, I wrote only on days
off—although, I arranged a “flex
time” schedule with most of my
supervisors, which allowed me to
work 40 hours four days per week
and have one day off for writing
and writing business (meetings,
speaking engagements, etc.).
When I’m really in a groove, I
do about 1,500 words per day.
When I’m in deadline mode, I do
3,000 words per day.
I do not write every day. If I’m
sick, tired, stressed about other
things, or otherwise just not in a
good headspace, I’ve found that
it’s more valuable to not write
that day than write badly (which
I’ll then have to spend extra time
fixing or deleting-and-replacing
with better writing).
I consider editing to be part of
writing (see “A Note on Self Edit-
ing” on page 25), and if I need to
spend a day rereading what I’ve
written so far instead of adding
new text, then I consider that to
be a good, productive day.
I write a “zeroeth draft” first.
That’s the one that will never be
seen by anyone but me. It has
[brackets] all over the place
where I’ve included notes to my-
self like [fact-check this] or [can’t
remember the word I need here].
It often has no chapter titles,
numbers, or epigraphs, because I
know I might need to reorder
chapters of the story; sometimes
it’s got giant plot holes in it. Just
knowing that I can write a draft
that’s far from perfect allows me
to finish the story without getting
anxious about its imperfections. I
can fix everything in revisions.
8

ELEMENT X?
The creative device that powers speculative fiction’s
most popular books, films, and TV series
T
he essence of speculative
fiction is, well, speculation.
At the heart of every fan-
tastical story, be it the
coming-of-age of a rebel like The
Hunger Games’s Katniss Everdeen or
the space-borne escapades of a
bounty hunter like Cowboy Bebop’s
Spike Spiegel, is a “What if…” ques-
tion that establishes some founda-
tional oddity. This premise binds the
narrative together, defining what is
possible in a story and shaping what
can (and does) happen.
N. K. describes this core compo-
THE FILMS
Godzilla series
ELEMENT X
RADIOACTIVITY
Without all the radioactive
waste dumped in the Pacific
Ocean, the king of the lizards
would probably never
surface—nor would he have so
many enemies to dispatch.
9
What Is
nent as “Element X,” a name that
conveys both how elemental and lim-
itless this centerpiece can be. A good
Element X is scalable and distinctive:
The Force in Star Wars, for instance,
has all kinds of uses. For the Jedi and
Sith, it’s a weapon, a means of per-
suasion, and a way of manipulating
the physical environment, in addi-
tion to a spiritual experience. For the
many people who cannot use the
Force, it is a privilege, and Force us-
ers are kind of culty. Put differently,
the Force is a means of marking the
various social, individual, and reli-
THE FILM
Limitless
ELEMENT X
NZT-48
The wonder drug is a pharma-
ceutical monkey’s paw, granting
wishes with steep financial,
ethical, and biological costs.
gious differences among the galaxy’s
many characters.
Whatever your Element X is, it
doesn’t have to do everything that
the Force does—nor should it. But
the more modular your element, the
more ingrained it is in the dynamics
of a world, and the more unique your
story can be. Here you can find a
sample of some Element X plot
points that power popular stories.
Note how series with the same Ele-
ment X can still radically differ de-
pending on how the element is used
or whom the main character is.
T H E T V S H OW:
The Powerpuff Girls series
ELEMENT X
CHEMICAL X
Sugar, spice, everything nice.
And Chemical X.
 THE COMICS
X-Men series
ELEMENT X
MUTATION
Mutants have extraordinary
bodies, gifts, and lives, all thanks
to their x-gene.
THE COMICS/FILMS
Men in Black series
ELEMENT X
ALIENS
The many aliens in the Men
in Black series are the
source of all the MIB’s sleek
gadgets and gizmos, as well
as their adventures.
THE COMICS/FILMS
Black Panther series
ELEMENT X
VIBRANIUM
The nearly indestructable
metal drastically impacted
and shaped Wakanda’s
economy and culture.
T H E B O O KS
The Hunger Games Trilogy
ELEMENT X
THE HUNGER
GAMES
The grim, futuristic, eponymous
battle royale at the center of
this series embodies the class
disparity and exploitation at
the heart of the books.
T H E B O O KS
The Broken Earth Trilogy
ELEMENT X
SEISMOLOGY/
OROGENY
The volatile plate tectonics of
the Stillness give orogenes,
a disparaged minority group
who can control earthquakes,
enormous power and
make them dangerous and
vulnerable.
THE MANGA
Pokémon series
ELEMENT X
POKÉMON
Every aspect of this series
revolves around the
cohabitation of humans and
its signature monsters.
T H E B O O KS
The Inheritance Trilogy
ELEMENT X
THE GODS
The proximity and personality
of the gods in this series
allows normal people access
to extraordinary power.
THE BOOK
Jurassic Park
ELEMENT X
GENETIC
ENGINEERING
All the dinosaurs of the doomed
theme park are sourced
from DNA and brought to
life through cutting-edge
genetic engineering.
THE MANGA
Naruto series
ELEMENT X
CHAKRA
Through chakra, the characters
of Naruto use a dizzying array
of martial arts techniques
that also connect them to
the legacy of their communities
and families.
10

MACRO-WORLDBUILDING PART I
Why making a map for the world you build can be the most important first step you take
M
acro-worldbuilding is
the creation of the
physical environment
in which this culture
developed, these characters emerged
from, this story takes place,” N. K.
says. “So that can be everything from
the creation of the universe and the
laws of physics on down. I normally
will start with the creation of the
planet and then we’ll work down
11 
from there. We go to continents, we
go to environments, and then we
start to create people who fit into
these environments.”
A map is an excellent way to con-
figure the topography of world you’re
building—not only will it help you
establish the landscape of your
world, but it can also help you con-
vey its geographical and social histo-
ry, all of which will likely come into
A map of
The Stillness
from N. K.'s
The Fifth Season
play when you’re writing. Just as
N. K. demonstrates, there are import-
ant steps you can take and questions
you can ask yourself in order to draft
your own map and create a blueprint
for the new world you’re dreaming
up. Take a look at a map of The Still-
ness from N. K.’s The Fifth Season
(above), then take a stab at N. K.’s
own exercises on page 12 to begin
building your own world.
 A Guide to Macro-Worldbuilding
N. K. offers up five practical steps to help you create your new world
1. DRAW
HEMISPHERES
“If you’ve got two sheets of
blank paper handy or if
you want to open a draw
file on your laptop, start by
drawing two circles. These
are the two hemispheres
of a planet.”
2. ADD CONTINENTS
“Once you’ve drawn your
two hemispheres of the
planet, the next step is to
draw continents. Draw as
many continents or as few
continents as you want. If
you want to create a water
world, you can do that. If
you want to create a world
with one giant landmass
and a small lake in the
middle, you can do that.”
3. CREATE THE RULES
OF THE PLANET
“The next step is to make
this world adhere to the
rules of how planets work.
Most planets work wildly
differently from each other
because they’re com-
posed of different sub-
stances, but the planet
that your readers are most
familiar with is Earth. So
first, draw an equator on
this planet across each of
the hemispheres, and then
consider the ways in which
prevailing air and wind
currents typically work.
You want to draw air and
water currents that are
pulled by the equator and,
as it’s going around, the
currents will be slanting in
the direction of that pull.
“Somewhere at the
point where these air or
water currents are hitting
this continent or touching
the edge, moving around it,
you’re going to have areas
of agitated weather. You’re
going to have floods, tsu-
nami, or underground
earthquakes. And so based
on how you’ve drawn your
air and water currents and
your continents, you’ll
know where the areas of
strife or difficulty will be,
those areas where it’s go-
ing to be harder for people
to live or where the envi-
ronment is unusual.
“Finally, you can also
add mountains to your
continents in chains.
Mountains are often indic-
ative of continental breaks
and where the weather’s
going to change.”
4. PICK A LOCATION
“Now that you’ve created
your planet, its continents,
and weather patterns, you
want to put an X some-
where on this planet.
Doesn't matter where.
We’re going to treat this X
as the location of the cul-
ture that we’re going to spin
this story into. Where that
culture lives is going to dic-
tate how, as a culture, they
develop. Let’s say you’ve
put your X in a place where
there are lots of storms
happening at any given
time. People of this culture
are going to find a way to
incorporate surviving 5. DECIDE WHAT
storms into their day to day. YOUR ELEMENT X
It may become a part of WILL BE
their religion, or it may be- “Element X (see “What Is
come a part of how they do Element X? on page 9) can
their building and architec- be either a feature of the
ture. If you’re trying to un- environment that is drasti-
derstand what your culture cally different from our
is going to be like based on world or it can be some-
the environment that it’s thing as simple as the fact
developing in, go and re- that magic exists. Or it can
search cultures that have just be that ‘this story is
developed in that same en- set in the future.’ But ideal-
vironment in our own world. ly it is just one seemingly
But you don’t want to ‘rub insignificant thing as far as
the serial numbers’ off an the people in your world
existing culture.” are concerned.”
PRACTICING ACCULTURATION
Focus on the X you marked on your map and the culture that
lives there (see step four in “A Guide to Macro-Worldbuild-
ing”). Jot down ideas about this culture and how their life-
style, habitats, and beliefs are affected by the place they live
and its specific environmental conditions .
Next, move onto “acculturation,” or what N. K. describes
as “where the culture begins to decide whether these minor,
insignificant differences between the ways that our species
develops are important or not.” Spend 30 minutes freewrit-
ing ideas about how this culture is perceived and treated by
the broader society, whether this culture has resources or
power, and how this culture may be structured internally.
Come back to this assignment a few days later and se-
lect a different site on which to mark X. Build a new culture
to acculturation level, based on the different ecology of the
new site. If your second culture is affected in any way by
proximity to your first culture, be sure to incorporate that.
12
 MACRO-WORLDBUILDING PART II

REIMAGINE A 4

FAMILIAR PLACE
1
Even when you’re writing
stories that are set in real places,
a map remains essential

5
J
ust as a map can be useful
for macro-worldbuilding
from scratch, it can also be a
useful tool when you’re cre-
ating a fantastical version of a real
location. Say your story takes place
in a futuristic version of New York
City. What is the year? Since it’s the
future, climate change surely has al-
tered the city. How are those sea-
walls holding up? Are the bridges
intact? Many train lines have exten-
sive trackage underground. Have
train tunnels been sealed or re-
paired or left in disarray after too
many hurricanes? How have hotter
summers and more volatile winters
affected the housing stock? Has
construction adapted to these ex-
tremes? What was the architectural
outcome of citywide gentrification?
Answering these questions ahead
of time allows you to determine the
social dynamics among your char-
acters. How do the people you’re
writing about travel to and from
work and school? What do people
in your future New York City do for
recreation? Anything’s possible.
Perhaps the Knicks are beloved
champions rather than beloved
chronic losers. Perhaps dollar pizza
has become five-dollar pizza be-
cause of inflation. Maybe housing
has become so expensive that city
workers live as far away as Philadel-
phia and have long commutes.
The map on page 13 highlights
some of the ways N. K. tapped into
the history and dynamics of New
York City when she was creating a
different New York for her fantasy
novel The City We Became. After sur-
veying her cartographic pursuits, ex-
plore some of your own ideas using
the supplied landmarks and plot
prompts in the box at right. If you’re
not a New Yorker, don’t fret—just
use your imagination. You’re building
a whole new world, after all.
N. K.’s NYC Landmarks
1. BRONX RIVER ART CENTER
The center’s location near water and its
status as a hub for artists play major
roles in N. K.’s plotting.
2. CENTRAL PARK
The massive urban park also has a rep-
utation for crime and racial profiling, a
history N. K. uses to further establish
the book’s villain.
3. WILLIAMSBURG BRIDGE
When this bridge, a critical artery con-
necting Brooklyn and Manhattan, is de-
BUILDING YOUR BIG APPLE
Practice crafting scenes by pairing a
landmark on the map on page 13
with one of the prompts that follows
here. Think about whether your
scene takes place in the past, pres-
ent, or future and how that time peri-
od will impact the city and its land-
marks. Give yourself 30 minutes to
freewrite any ideas that pop into your
mind. Try the same exercise with a
different landmark-prompt combi-
nation and see what crops up.
Landmarks
1. UNITED NATIONS
Headquarters of the international
institution. Overlooks the East River,
very difficult to reach, fortified.
2. CHINATOWN
Historically Chinese neighborhood
at the southern edge of the island.
Bustling nightlife, narrow streets,
and many train lines.
3. ROOSEVELT ISLAND
An island on the East River reach-
able by train and bus. Expensive
groceries, abandoned hospital, few
restaurants.
stroyed, navigating the city becomes
extremely cumbersome.
4. FDR DRIVE
N. K. uses the highway for a chase scene
on foot and a car chase, using the stretch’s
infamous traffic for humor and action.
5. STATEN ISLAND
As the only borough unreachable by
train, and the one with the smallest
population, it tends to play a minor role
in the city's politics. N. K. uses that
alienation as the basis for a character.
4. HARLEM
Historically Black neighborhood in
the northern part of Manhattan.
Wide streets, good food, beautiful
homes.
5. PENN STATION
A hub for subway, commuter, bus,
and long-distance trains.
Plot Prompts
HEIST
Heists require drivers, targets, and
hideouts. Watch out for traffic.
ARCHAEOLOGICAL DIG
Digs take place at one site and
require tools and permission. What
will the dig uncover?
EPIDEMIC
Evacuate or shelter in place? Where
do people go?
INTERNATIONAL CONFERENCE
After the conference, attendees will
seek food and accommodations.
VACATION GONE WRONG
Tourists are prone to wandering and
talking to strangers…
14
BRICK
BY BRICK
Five tips for successful
worldbuilding

15 
D
oes worldbuilding wear
you out? It’s work, right?
All those bricks and blue-
prints and endless piles of
metal and dirt. All that construction
equipment and making sure those
characters you employ stay on sched-
ule. Not to mention the infinite
choices! One super continent or 113
islands? Should the story take place
on a jungle planet, a desert planet, or
the astral plane? Should your alien
race be worm-people or ant-people?
You could go with both, but ants are
born as larvae, which are kind of
wormy. Does that, like, muddle
things existentially?
When you’re creating a world
from scratch, it’s easy to get bogged
down by these kinds of granular
questions because you want to be
consistent and you want your story
to be fresh. It can also be hard to kill
your darlings—cutting out people,
places, or parts of the story that
you’re especially attached to, even if
they don’t totally serve the narra-
tive—because they’re yours. If you
don’t care for them, who will? These
kinds of growing pains are part and
parcel of letting your imagination
run free, but there are ways to ease
the process of expanding your
world. Consider these tips next time
you find yourself in a rut.
Your fictional world is a context,
not a contract. As you refine your
narrative, embrace revisions.
1. Build Piecemeal
The Fifth Season was born from a
strange vision that N. K. had: In a
dream an angry, powerful woman
was approaching her, and when she
awoke she wondered who the wom-
an was and why she was furious. In
the same way a character can lead
your reader through a fantastical
setting, use characters to guide the
creation of your world. Every detail
doesn’t have to be premeditated.
2. Play
Worldbuilding is your opportunity
to freestyle and improvise. Even if
you have a particular story in mind,
explore deviations and tangents.
You might discover new layers to
your world in the process.
3. Revise
Your fictional world is a context, not
a contract. As you refine your narra-
tive and become more familiar with
your story, embrace revisions. Per-
haps you established that the people
of your world display four genders,
but one character whom you
couldn’t stand to lose doesn’t fit
within that construct. So what!
Make a new construct! (As long as it
serves the larger story.) Something
else to try is tweaking your story so
that this lone character feels even
more alienated. Consider another
scenario: You’ve written a lovely
scene where a train crash injures a
key figure in a juicy, dramatic twist.
But wait! Didn’t you establish, in
painstaking detail, that the train sys-
tem of your futuristic world is run by
sentient, unhackable AI who haven’t
harmed humans in millenia? Revi-
sion time—maybe they’ve been
harming people the whole time and
the damage has been hidden by the
powers that be.
4. Revisit Your Old Ideas
Worldbuilding is about harnessing
the relationship between character
and context, so importing an old
character into a new setting can
change both. One of the hooks of
Star Wars: Episode I — The Phantom
Menace is that Darth Vader is rein-
troduced as a curious, plucky child.
Do you have characters or ideas in
your archives that might contribute
to your current story?
5. Deconstruct Other
Fictional Worlds
Stuck on a detail, like how do I
make my killer robots scarier?
Perhaps the elements of another
story can help. In the Blade Runner
and Terminator series, people
fear robots because of their
resemblance to humans. Maybe
you should make your robots
humanoid. Or maybe you think
that’s bunk and want your robots
to resemble sea anemones—either
way, it can be helpful to study
examples in film, literature, or
television, and analyze what these
worlds do effectively and whether
there are lessons you can apply
to your own work.
16

How you can strike the right balance between
revealing too much and sharing too little
I
ceberg theory is a worldbuild-
ing rule that emphasizes conci-
sion and functionality. Like an
iceberg, the theory declares, 90
percent of a fictional world should be
invisible; your reader should see only
the 10 percent that’s floating above
the surface. That way, the narrative
will not be leaden with information,
a faux pas known as infodumping
(i.e., if you’ve ever read a book and
thought, “This is a slog”).
The theory can be useful for fo-
cusing your story or novel and can
help you streamline your storytell-
ing, making it fluid and seamless. But
beware: Following iceberg theory
can also be risky and possibly pro-
hibitive. The metaphor is ominous—
icebergs sink ships—as well as dis-
missive and misleading. After all, a
story that is too slick and quick-
moving (Stanley Kubrick’s 2001: A
Space Odyssey, for instance) can be
just as alienating to the reader as one
that is dense with information.
Though you can’t and shouldn’t try
to squeeze every iota of research into
your story, there are creative ways to
use the whole iceberg without sacri-
ficing your narrative flow.
Plenty of popular fictional proper-
ties have managed to use the whole
iceberg to powerful effect. The Ma-
trix series, for instance, centers on a
small human group’s battle against
sentient machines. The main story is
17 
straightforward: One man, Neo, is
rescued from an oppressive comput-
er simulation and fights to free oth-
ers from the same fate. But over the
course of four movies and a collec-
tion of short films, other stories
emerge. Sometimes the machines are
oppressed and the humans are the
aggressors; at other times the line
between the two parties is blurred. If
the story were just about Neo, these
additional layers would be lost.
N. K.’s Broken Earth Trilogy works
similarly. The main story is easy to
follow: A shattered woman, Essun,
navigates a splintered world and at-
tempts to repair it. As a marginalized
orogene, she encounters a glut of per-
sonal, social, and environmental ob-
stacles. Her story alone is epic. But at
different points, the narrative focuses
on the world around her, spotlighting
her comrades, children, antagonists,
and lovers. Through an appendix, co-
A story that is too slick and quick-
moving can be just as alienating as
one that is dense with information.
das at the end of chapters, interludes,
and other creative tricks, N. K. keeps
Essun in the frame while also bring-
ing the background to life. Put anoth-
er way, N. K. uses the tip of the ice-
berg as a point of entry to the base.
The Naruto manga series is an-
other primo example of utilizing the
entire iceberg. The story follows a
ninja warrior, Naruto, from child-
hood to maturity. There are stretches
of Naruto’s journey from novice to
expert where Naruto doesn’t even
appear; in those moments, the story
dives into the extensive history of
ninja conflicts. The series’ larger in-
terest, beyond its main character’s
trials, is mapping symmetries across
generations of ninjas and exploring
the cyclical nature of war and con-
flict. Because the storytelling balanc-
es explanation and action, always us-
ing the history of the world to enrich
Naruto’s adventures, these detours
never overwhelm the reader. The ice-
berg is the story.
Sometimes there is a case for re-
straint, especially with complex, epic
stories that span many years and
ages and include a wide-ranging cast.
The Sherlock Holmes series, for in-
stance, is mostly propelled by its pe-
culiar detective; if the series and its
many spin-offs focused too much on
Watson’s war experiences, it would
be less interesting. But the point
stands that there’s no set percentage
of your ideas that matter. Storytell-
ing always involves compromises,
omissions, and refinements. But
rules? Those are optional.
18
DEVELOPING UNIQUE
CHARACTERS
The “rugged individualist” is an
overused (and limiting) trope.
When you’re writing, consider
how you can create fresh
archetypes

19 
A
fter you’ve built your
world, it’s time to start
thinking about the char-
acters who will populate
it. Along with the features of the cul-
ture your characters belong to, the
power dynamics they navigate, and
the challenges they face, you’ll want
to think about the more personal
qualities unique to each of them.
From appearances and personalities
to socioeconomic status (or lack
thereof) and motivations, the more
layers you can give your characters,
the more three-dimensional they’ll
be, jumping off of the page and into
your reader’s mind.
For N. K., crafting compelling
characters means tapping into her
background in psychology—specifi-
cally Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, a
motivational theory proposed by
psychologist Abraham Maslow in the
1940s. Presented as a pyramid chart,
the base of the pyramid represents
the most fundamental, physiological
needs we all require to survive:
things like food, water, and shelter.
Less physical or tangible needs like
security, intimate relationships, es-
teem, and achieving one’s full poten-
tial appear progressively higher up
the pyramid.
When she’s creating a character,
N. K. uses Maslow’s pyramid idea to
flesh out said character’s outer and
inner life. At the bottom of her pyra-
mid, N. K. says she starts “with the
basics about a person—their demo-
graphics, their age, their race, their
gender—all of the simple things that
you can know from glancing at a per-
son or that a writer can do a one-line
description of and a reader will know
all about it.”
Next, she moves into things “that
are a little less visible,” things that
make up a person’s outer life but are
not immediately apparent. These
might include a person’s accent, their
clothing, how they present them-
selves—all clues to a larger story
about a person’s role in society, their
class, or their background.
Finally, closer to the top of the
pyramid will be the inner life of N.
K.’s character—those things that, as
she says, a person wouldn’t know
“without speaking to [the character]
or being related to them or living
with them…things like their goals,
their wishes, their fears, their weak-
nesses, things that make them a
more complex person.”
As you go through and start
sketching out your characters, it’s
helpful for you to be aware of com-
mon literary archetypes and think
“There’s a whole slew of
people who would love to read
stories about people just like
themselves overcoming adversity.”
­–N. K.
about whether your story will best be
served by defying, expanding upon,
embracing, or reimagining them.
One of the most often-used arche-
types that has long permeated litera-
ture (and film, TV, theater…every-
thing) is the “rugged individualist.”
Usually white, heterosexual,
able-bodied, and male, this arche-
type can describe everyone from In-
diana Jones to Mad Max to, as N. K.
points out, every John Wayne char-
acter ever. As she says, stories featur-
ing the rugged individualist center
on “a person overcoming adversity
just by being super tough and super
interesting and super powerful.”
N. K. explains that stories cen-
tered on this archetype have so thor-
oughly permeated various media
that many people consider them the
only viable route to a book deal (or
any other kind of success). But the
reality is, the world is full of so many
diverse types of people with so many
unique lived experiences; by limiting
representation to such a narrow
scope, writers (and publishers, and
film producers, and TV execs) are
not even aware of the audiences and
opportunities they stand to gain by
telling new kinds of stories featuring
different kinds of archetypes.
“There’s a whole slew of people
who would love to read stories about
people just like themselves overcom-
ing adversity,” N. K. says. By way of
example, she asks what interesting
stories could emerge from your mind
if you start with an “antithetical rug-
ged individualist”—someone who
doesn’t overcome hurdles with phys-
ical strength or violence but with
solutions that are “maybe cerebral or
emotional” or with the help of “a
large group of people who are all in-
dividually able to solve pieces of that
problem, and together as a team
they’re able to get things done.”
In her book The Fifth Season, N. K.
draws you into the story via the
viewpoints of three main characters,
all of whom are orogenes—members
of the marginalized minority group
who possess the power to control
earthquakes—and women of color.
20
With Damaya, a young girl newly
discovering her abilities; Syenite, a
young woman forced into an ar-
ranged relationship; and Essun, a
middle-aged grieving mother, N. K.
wanted to avoid the “rugged individ-
ualist” archetype and upend her
readers’ expectations.
Damaya “is the character that I
thought readers would be most likely
to empathize with,” N. K. says. “As a
species, we tend to want to protect
children. When we see them in peril,
we feel discomfort with that. We
want to help them.”
The arc centered on Syenite and
the arranged pairing, meanwhile, ul-
timately challenges assumptions that
a young, single, attractive character
must have a love interest.
Finally, Essun, a fortysomething
mother whom N. K. describes as
“heavyset at the beginning of the
story,” is “the kind of person who, in
a lot of postapocalyptic novels,
would be immediately dismissed as
not survival material.”
With each character, N. K. has not
only challenged assumptions about
whose stories are worthy of being
told but also what those stories look
like on the page. In doing so, she has
shut down critics who might have
said these choices would lead to a lit-
erary flop: The Fifth Season netted
N. K. her first of four Hugo prizes.
Moreover, as N. K. puts it, “litera-
ture is no different from any other
human endeavor” that follows
trends, and “a lot of these older ar-
chetypes are out of style.” She con-
tinues: “The most popular and cut-
ting-edge ways to tell stories is to tell
the stories of people who aren’t the
rugged individualists.” You can still
include a rugged individualist char-
acter in there if you’d like, she adds,
but taking a cue from 2015’s Mad
Max: Fury Road movie, consider re-
imagining the role they can play in
your story: Instead of a protagonist,
turn them into a sidekick.

10 Recent Cultural Touchstones

That Ditched the “Rugged Individualist”

1. Forest of a Thousand Lanterns (2017) 9

2. Children of Blood and Bone (2018)

5
3. The Peanut Butter Falcon (2019)
4. The Queen’s Gambit (2020)
5. Birds of Prey (2020)
8
6. Watchmen (2019)
7. Euphoria (2019) 3

8. Black Panther (2018)

7

9. Crazy Rich Asians (2018)

10
10. Mad Max: Fury Road (2015)

7. Barbie Ferreira 8. Lupita Nyong'o 10. Charlize Theron 3. Zack Gottsagen 5. Margot Robbie 9. Constance Wu
21 
 Start Creating Characters
Use N. K.’s pyramid model to flesh out the demographics, outer lives, and inner lives of the main players in your writing
THE PYRAMID
Take the world you’ve been
building and use N. K.’s
pyramid model to start de-
veloping one of your cen-
tral characters. Draw a pyr-
amid on a piece of a paper,
then section it into three
parts corresponding to the
three categories N. K. de-
scribes, which, for the pur-
poses of this exercise, you
can label “demographics,”
“outer life,” and “inner life.”
THE DEMOGRAPHICS
Next, start filling out the
pyramid by listing attri-
butes, descriptions, and
ideas about your character
for each level. In the “de-
mographics” section, con-
sider basic information like
their age, race, and gender,
applicable to the world
you’re building. (If, for in-
stance, you’ve created a
water world with sea-
people, traditional human
notions of race and gender
may not apply.)
THE OUTER LIFE
As you move into the mid-
dle “outer life” section,
start noting qualities like
your character’s class, their
role in society, their job,
and their status and power.
THE INNER LIFE
Finally, at the top “inner
life” level, think about
those internal goals, fears,
weaknesses, and desires
buried deep within your
character that few people
would know.
your character’s inner
Goals:
life—those wishes, goals,
Fears: or fears you’d never see
from the outside.
Weaknesses:
Desires: ELEVATOR PITCH
Finally, practice writing a
sentence that effectively
captures your character’s
Role: outer life. As N. K. says, one
Job:
way to think about this ex-
ercise is to “imagine your-
Status: self in an elevator with your
character for 30 seconds.
Power:
You’ve got only that amount
of time to figure out every-
thing you can about them.
INNER
Age: Write that sentence down.”
LIFE Next, do the same thing but
Race:
for your character’s inner
Gender: life. Although the elevator
metaphor may not work
OUTER LIFE here, you’ll still want to syn-
thesize and distill all of the
traits and background in-
formation you’ve jotted
down into one compelling
package as if you only have
DEMOGRAPHICS limited time (or word
counts) to get your point
across.
THE BACK STORIES
Once you’ve filled out the
three levels, start jotting WRITING PRIVILEGED
down ideas alongside the
bottom two-thirds of the
VS. MARGINALIZED
pyramid (the “demograph- CHARACTERS
ics” and “outer life” levels)
about how a character
Focus on your created culture (see page 12) and draw up
composed of these quali-
pyramids for two new characters, up to the “inner life” level.
ties might be aware of their
The first character should be privileged in every way:
identity and power (or lack
wealthy, a member of the politically or socioeconomically
thereof) in society. Next to
dominant group, fitting every standard of beauty. The sec-
the top, brainstorm a few
ond should be marginalized and disprivileged in every way.
incidents, traumas, or rela-
Consider which of these characters will make the most en-
tionships that underpin
gaging protagonist or viewpoint for your readers.
22
HOW TO
HOOK YOUR
READER
Advice for capturing—and keeping—the
attention of your audience
I
f you’re a new writer hoping to
capture the attention of readers
or a seasoned author aiming to
sustain the interest of devoted
fans, one tool is indispensable: a great
hook. Whether in a novel, short story,
essay, or nonfiction piece, a hook re-
fers to the very first line or opening of
a story that, as N. K. puts it, “keeps
your audience interested and makes
them want more.”
Hooks can come in a variety of
forms, from plunging readers into
the middle of dramatic action or fu-
eling curiosity about intriguing char-
acters, situations, or questions.
23 
Sometimes an amazing attention-
grabber will come to you in a flash of
inspiration. Other times, coming up
with a hook idea can require, as N. K.
says, “wordsmithing on it for a while
to make sure it’s a really interesting
sentence.”
If you’re in need of help to kick-
start your creativity, here are seven
tips for crafting a great hook.
1. Your Title Is
Your First Hook
As crucial as your opening sentence
is, remember that you have one op-
portunity to draw in your reader be-
fore they even open your book or
click on your article: your title or
headline. Think of how you can in-
terest your target audience with
emotionally loaded language or sur-
prising combinations of words.
2. Drop Your Readers Into
the Middle of the Action
In literary terms, starting in the mid-
dle of a narrative is called in medias
res, and it’s a simple way to create in-
trigue. If you give this a try, consider
using the classic strategy of starting
with a climactic event. This method
hooks your reader in two ways: first
with the energy of the scene itself,
and second by dropping your reader
into the middle of the story without
context. Both outcomes leave them

with questions that will compel
them to keep reading. There are a
few ways to make this work with the
rest of your narrative: You can make
your hook into a prologue or flash
forward and then begin writing in
chronological order, or you can con-
tinue writing in a nonlinear fashion.
3. Form an Emotional
Connection
If your piece isn’t action-packed,
you might consider hooking your
reader with an emotional scene.
Showing a character’s intense emo-
tional response on the first page can
help you tap into your reader’s
sense of empathy. If your reader can
develop an emotional connection
with your character(s) early on,
they’ll be more interested in what
happens to them later.
4. Make a Surprising
Statement
Starting your piece with a controver-
sial or unexpected statement will en-
courage your audience to keep read-
ing, as they’ll anticipate how you’ll
prove your statement. Like a thesis
statement in an essay, a statement
hook will have your readers search-
ing for connections for the rest of
the work.
5. Leave Your Reader
With Questions
A good hook—whether it uses ac-
tion, emotion, or a strong state-
ment—will keep your reader
guessing about your characters’
motivations, backstories, and
more. Maybe in high school, you
learned to start an essay with a
rhetorical question. Try that same
technique now, but leave the actual
question out of the finished piece.
Instead, set up a scene that leads
your reader to come up with the
question on their own.
6. Stay Away From
Description
You don’t have many pages to hook
your reader, so be wary of long de-
scriptive passages that don’t gener-
ate questions. Don’t feel the need to
explain every little thing to your
reader—leaving some questions un-
answered will create suspense, and
you can fill in details later.
7. Keep Your
Readers Engaged
Writing a great hook will get your
reader’s attention, but if you leave
them with lots of unanswered ques-
tions, they’ll just become frustrated.
To sustain your reader’s attention,
make sure to answer at least some of
the questions posed in your hook
fairly early on, while keeping some
information for later. One technique,
especially useful in thrillers, is to in-
troduce a new question every time
you answer a previous one, keeping
your reader in constant suspense.
For works with multiple chapters,
don’t let your first chapter be the
only one with a hook. Try opening
each chapter with a teaser—an ac-
tion, a bit of dialogue, or an interest-
ing fact—to maintain your reader’s
focus throughout a longer piece.
TRY SOME
DIFFERENT
HOOK
TECHNIQUES
Practice writing your own
hooks for stories you already
know inside and out. These can
be interesting moments from
your personal life (events with
concrete beginnings, middles,
and ends work best) or classic
fairy tales, fables, or real-life
headlines straight from the
news.
Some thought starters
might include topics like your
first heartbreak, the classic
Grimm’s fairy tale Hansel and
Gretel, or Amelia Earhart’s dis-
appearance over the Pacific.
Jot down a list describing
the major characters, plot
points, and action for three to
five such examples. Next,
imagine you were turning each
one into a novel, short story, or
nonfiction book. Practice writ-
ing a hook for each, using the
tips from pages 23-24. Finally,
take your hooks and try rewrit-
ing them with a different tech-
nique. If you chose to write a
hook for Hansel and Gretel by
opening in media res, for the
second version, consider grab-
bing readers’ attention with a
surprising statement or an
emotional scene.
24
 You Are Your First Editor:

A NOTE ON
SELF-EDITING
Tips on how to revise your work

25 
E
very writer must also be
their own editor, whether
or not their manuscript
will ultimately wind up
in the hands of a publisher. Below,
you’ll find a basic four-step meth-
od that’s used by many fiction
writers like N. K. The finer points
aren’t so important as the ap-
proach: An open mind and honest
perspective are key here. You may
need to eliminate a character, dis-
card a whole subplot, even change
the major storyline. Don’t feel bad;
it’s all part of the writer’s journey.
And, more often than not, it’s an
indicator of progress.
1. Conceptual Edit
This twofold edit begins while
you’re writing, as you continually
look back on earlier chapters and
make adjustments. The second,
more substantial part of the edit
happens when you’ve finished.
Print out the manuscript, and
bloody the pages in red pen. Try
rearranging chapters, cutting or
adding scenes, leaving notes. Trust
yourself, and don’t be too pre-
cious. Tear your novel apart and
see what happens.
2. Line Edit
Once the manuscript feels con-
ceptually cohesive, take a closer
look at the language on a line-by-
line basis. Focus on tightness and
economy; eliminate redundancies,
make each word fight for its place
on the page. You can usually cut
(at least) 10 percent of your word
count simply by trimming your
sentences. Pick up a copy of
Self-Editing for Fiction Writers, 2nd
Edition by professional editors
Renni Browne and Dave King. It’s
a go-to resource for learning how
to polish your work.
3. Chapter Edit
Go through your work section by
section and ask yourself: What did
I accomplish in this chapter?
Write a short answer for each one.
The result should be an outline-
type overview of your novel. You’ll
notice if a chapter is too busy (and
needs to be broken up) or too dull
(and should be consolidated into
another chapter or eliminated).
This will help you control the pac-
ing of your story.
4. Gestation
Once you’ve finished your edit,
put the manuscript on a shelf for a
few days—or weeks. When you re-
turn to it, you’ll bring a fresh per-
spective that will help you in any
future editing. Don’t try to make
everything perfect. Over-editing
your novel can crush your original
inspiration and damage the good
work you’ve done.

5 Tips for Outlining Your Novel

Once you’ve started to
map out and build your
world along with the cul-
tures living inside it, it’s
time to start thinking
about the central charac-
ters, themes, plot points,
conflicts, and climaxes in
your novel. As many writ-
ers can attest, there are
few things more intimi-
dating than staring at a
blank page. Here’s a
quick guide to help you
get started.
1. CRAFT
THE PREMISE
This is the central idea
driving your story. Ex-
pand on it by thinking
about a main protago-
nist, their goals and
challenges, the central
conflict and theme.
Write a one-paragraph
summary.
2. DETERMINE
THE SETTING
Once you’ve built your
world and chosen where
on the map (your “X” lo-
cation) the action will
take place, think about
your setting on a more
intimate level. Picture it in
your mind and write
down as much detail as
you can: the look, sound,
smell, and overall feel.
Also, think about when
the novel takes place. Is it
set in the present day?
The future? The past?
How far back in the past?
How far in the future?
3. KNOW THE
CHARACTERS
Visualize these people
and develop their back-
stories; decide which are
critical to the plot and
which are not. Assemble
character pyramids (see
page 22).
4. CONSTRUCT
THE PLOT
Focus on the story’s cen-
tral dramatic question.
Create a timeline of
events, noting how they
impact the plot and offer
opportunities for poten-
tial subplots.
5. WRITE
THE SCENES
Add scenes to the out-
line and flesh them out
(where the action takes
place, who is involved,
snippets of dialogue).
Now you can start writ-
ing your first draft.

26
 Find a community to exchange ideas, receive feedback
and commiserate over rejections
P
ublishing is a “really, really
hard business to be in,”
N. K. admits. “You need a
support network.” Like
many authors, N. K. recommends
finding a writing group made up of
people “who are seeking the same
kind of thing you are, whether they
all want to publish novels or short
stories or they all want to publish in
the same genre. [If] they’re all at
roughly the same level of career de-
velopment that you are, they’ll be
able to evaluate your work better.
And then you can all grow together.”
Writing groups can also help you
commiserate. As N. K. recounts,
“When I was a beginning writer, the
writing group that I was in actually
celebrated rejections. Every 50 re-
jections, we would all go out and
have a party. When we had a hun-
dred rejections, we all decided to go
out for drinks. At 150, I think we hit
a strip club. I don’t know that that’s
necessarily the way you want to cel-
ebrate, but celebrate those rejec-
tions because they are very much a
part of being a writer, and they are
going to help you become the writer
that you ultimately want to be.”
Here are five ways to find a writ-
ing group:
1. Get Local
Stop by your neighborhood commu-
nity centers, libraries, college cam-
puses, or bookstores, as many of
27 
these places offer listings for differ-
ent types of literary gatherings,
courses, workshops, or writing
groups. You can also check their
schedules for upcoming author read-
ings, book signings, panel discus-
sions, and more.
2. Go on a Writing Retreat
While this option typically requires
more time, travel, and money, many
writers vouch that it’s a worthwhile
investment. There are different types
of retreats when it comes to time
commitment, location, and resourc-
es offered, but what they have in
common is the opportunity to step
back from your regular life and give
yourself the time and space (both lit-
eral and metaphorical) to think cre-
atively, write regularly, and workshop
ideas. And, while you’re there, chanc-
es are you’ll meet some folks you’d
like to stay in touch with profession-
ally and personally.
3. Join Different Writers’
Associations
There are a number of writers’ asso-
ciations with local chapters, and
joining one may very well lead you to
a writing group. Try connecting with
an association like National Novel
Writing Month (you might know it as
NaNoWriMo), which has group
meetups at local libraries. You might
also want to try finding a writing
group by joining a genre asso-
ciation, like Science Fiction &
Fantasy Writers of America
or, more locally, something like
Independent Writers of South-
ern California (refer back to
tip No. 1).
4. Log In
There’s a ton of information
available via social media,
message boards, and other dig-
ital outlets. Explore and join
Facebook groups for writers, or
check out websites like Scribophile
and Critique Circle.
5. Start Your Own
If you’re having a hard time finding a
community to suit your needs, start
your own! Recruit writers by posting
a note at a coffee shop or library, ask-
ing members of your book club to
join, or posting on social media. A
major advantage of starting your
own group is that you can make it
what you want; it could be a general
group that welcomes all or is specific
to a certain genre or level. Pick a day,
find a location, and start building
your network.
 WRITING THROUGH A CHILD’S EYES
As N. K. says, “Kids have a
weird, unique way of per-
ceiving the world. They no-
tice things that we have
learned to tune out.”
In this exercise, use
one of the worlds you’ve
been building during this
class to write a short story
from the perspective of a
child. You should take
care to highlight, de-
scribe, and consider more
granular details of the
place, its inhabitants, ar-
chitecture, and topogra-
phy—those details that,
as N. K. mentions, adults
tend to ignore.
If you’re having trouble
adapting the child’s POV,
start by taking an object,
flora, fauna, or building and
start to break down all of its
component characteris-
tics. What does its shape
look like? What does its
color remind you of? Is the
texture smooth, scaly,
bumpy, greasy, scratchy?
How does this thing move?
Is it sleek and nimble or
slow and lumbering? Does
it bounce? Sway? Swim?
Try to use as many of your
five senses as possible.
For further inspiration,
if you have children in your
life, take a walk together
and bring a notebook. Pay
attention to how they react
and describe the natural
world around them, and jot
down the words they use.
Refer back to this page of
notes anytime you need a
reminder while writing
your own work.
28
SURVIVING
THE PUBLISHING
INDUSTRY
What you need to know
when you’re ready to share
your writing with the world

29 
E
very writing career is differ-
ent. There’s no ideal time to
start writing, no singular
path to publication, and no
standard background. Most writers
moonlight, meaning they do not ex-
clusively work as writers. Ted Chi-
ang, for instance, who is famous for
his short stories and has never pub-
lished a novel, writes technical man-
uals for a living. Satirist Paul Beatty
and essayist Eula Biss are college
professors. The late Toni Morrison
spent much of her career as an editor
in the publishing industry. Comic
book artist Christopher Priest is an
ordained minister. Ta-Nehisi Coates
was a journalist before he became a
novelist. Many more writers are pub-
lished in zines, digital magazines,
web forums, and anthologies. Some
are not published at all, nor do they
want to be. Writing careers are just
as variable and peculiar as the writ-
ten word itself.
The key to making your way
through this dense forest of options
and opportunities is to know your
goals and familiarize yourself with
how best to achieve them. The pub-
lishing industry accommodates a
wide range of writers, from full-time
to part-time to once-in-a-lifetime,
so the more you know about it, the
better it can serve you. Use these
tips and resources to guide you as
you chart your course.
Types of Publishing
The main types of publishing are tra-
ditional and self-publishing. If you go
the traditional publishing route, you
will work with a publisher who will
take your manuscript and ready it for
the market. That includes editing,
typesetting, printing, marketing, dis-
tribution, and a range of other ser-
vices. Because a traditional publisher
incurs so much of the cost of bring-
ing your work to life, you cede a cer-
tain amount of control and revenue
to them in exchange for their exper-
tise. If you self-publish, you retain
that control and stand to gain the
bulk of the revenue, but you take on
much more of the responsibility. Do
you have the resources to copyedit a
book as well as market it, negotiate
printing costs, design cover art, and
house and ship printed books?
Whichever path you choose, decide
what works best for your situation.
Some authors, especially comic book
writers, choose both routes, depend-
ing on what they’ve written.
Resources: Publishers Weekly (pub-
lishersweekly.com), Poets & Writers
(pw.org)
30
Agents
Literary agents are liaisons between
you and the world. They have inti-
mate knowledge of the industry and a
keen sense of the marketplace, both
of which they use to connect you to
the publisher that fits your story. They
can specialize in genres, languages,
and even rights (e.g., foreign rights,
optioning rights). Seeking an agent
can be like dating, in that you might
find the perfect match, you might
work with someone for a spell before
amicably deciding to part ways, or
you might waste a few precious years.
Agent relationships are business ven-
tures, so as you seek representation,
make sure you know who is repping
you and check that their interests
align with yours.
Resources: Duotrope (duotrope
.com), Science Fiction & Fantasy
Writers of America’s “Writer Beware”
section (sfwa.org), QueryTracker
(querytracker.net) Seeking an
Education and Training agent can be
like dating...you
Workshops and writing groups (see
“How to Join a Writing Group” on
page 27) are great ways to get feed-
back on your writing as well as meet might find the
other writers. In some cases, fellow
workshop attendees become collab-
orators, friends, and supporters.
perfect match
Workshops can take the form of re-
treats, classes, or informal networks.
or you might
N. K. is a former member of the Al-
tered Fluid group. Some writers,
waste a few
such as Jia Tolentino, Margaret At-
wood, and Gary Shteyngart, hold
precious years
MFAs, but this route can be costly,
and some writers question the over- searching.
all value of obtaining an MFA.

THINK ABOUT
YOUR FUTURE
SAFETY AND
SECURITY
Imagine that you have become
famous! A household name! As
N. K. shares in her class, with
fame can sometimes come
danger. What are some steps
you’ll need to take to protect
yourself against harassment or
stalkers, along with your clos-
est friends/relatives, online
and in person? Which of these
steps can you begin working
on now?
Publicity
Published writing is public, so it en-
tails exposure. People may not like
your work, or they might like it so
much that they inundate you with
questions and adoration. To promote
your work, you might have to go on
TV or the radio, or travel to confer-
ences. Such attention, positive or neg-
ative, can be emotionally overwhelm-
ing and hard to adjust to. It can also
come with increased responsibilities.
If you write about a real war, for in-
stance, you may get responses from
people affected by that war. Or if you
use a cultural or political symbol as-
sociated with a group, and members
of that group find fault with your us-
age, they may voice their concerns.
Don’t let these risks stop you from
telling the stories that interest you,
but know they exist and always do
your best to avoid insensitivity.
Read
The inner workings of the industry
aren’t always confined to guides and
manuals. Go to your local bookstore
and look around. Notice any trends?
How about gaps? What are the crit-
ics saying? Work on developing your
own sense of what’s happening in
the world and market of books.
Commercial concerns are often sec-
ondary from creative concerns, but
sometimes there’s overlap. If you see
your local bookstore is deluged with
vampire novels, maybe that means
the world is ready for your novel
about shark people!
Resources: The New York Times’
Book Review, Bookforum, Catapult

31 
N. K.’S SPECULATIVE
FICTION SYLLABUS
Novels, films, and short story collections that all
aspiring writers should be familiar with

The Unreal The Lord of the Rings

and the Real Film Trilogy
by Ursula K. Le Guin
“The novels can be a
“Le Guin’s novels are slog; it took me easily
often cited as her best three tries to get through
entry point, but I actu- them. However, if you’re
ally think her short fic- going to write fantasy,
tion, which is often in somebody somewhere
conversation with the is going to ask you about
rest of the genre and this series; much of the
societal issues, hits genre is in conversation
harder.” with it, so it’s good to
have that frame of refer-
ence. The films are a
quick (relatively, at
9-plus hours) intro,
which might make the
novels more palatable.”

Parable of the Wraeththu series

Sower, Parable by Storm
of the Talents, and Constantine
Wild Seed
“These novels are an
by Octavia E. Butler excellent example of
“Butler plausibly extrap- secondary worldbuild-
olates futurism from ing on a near-future
historical events while earth where the human
also constituting pow- species has trans-
erful character studies. I formed in an unexpect-
also recommend her ed and challenging way.”
fiction collection Blood-
child and Other Stories,
which provides a good
example of how to hook
readers and challenge
them in a brief space.”

32