No, this is not a rant on how little Americans know about geography (though that could be an extensive topic in itselt). Merely a few scattered thoughts about topography, ecology, and distance.
We are shaped by our physical environment, much as we are shaped by the language(s) we learn, for these structure our thought-world. Perspectives are different for those who live close to the land and nature's cycles as opposed to those far removed from the soil and seasons. Urban v. rural, forest v. plain, coastal v. inland, sea level v. high altitude, plentiful rains v. desert, scarcity v. abundant food crops, expansive vistas v. crowded spaces--all these have much to say about our experience, our world-view, our self-understanding. They also limit how we can live.
I am a visual person. When I meet people without name tags, I over-compensate, desperately trying to match what I hear with the faces around me. Sometimes I impress folks but it is all a front. Most of the time I forget Susie's name by the time I say, "Hello, Susie, nice to meet you."
All of that is prelude to saying that I need to visualize and be oriented. Taurus is a fixed-earth sign, after all. Do not, for the love of all that is holy and the fear of all that is not, put a map down on a table in front of me without orienting the north end of the map toward the geographic north. I need to have a firm sense of direction.
So, when writing fantasy fiction, I often draw maps of an imaginary world before I tell a story. I may launch into the story first but very soon I will pause and work on maps. Topographical ones, no less. The graphic above is from my book of maps drawn in the early 70s for this world of which I write. How precise I was! I have since lowered the level of the inland sea. It's easier to put it at 500 feet than remember 614 ft. above sea level. Ah, the freedom of fantasy.
But how free is it? I want to believe in my world (or else why should my readers?). Rivers still need to flow downhill, societies need varied economies for survival. Grain must grow somewhere, sheep be raised for wool, waters flow for mill wheels, metals be mined, seas and rivers be fished, etc. Paths and roads must allow travel for commerce and communication. Cities cannot be located where there is no source of water.
If I am incorporating some kind of travelogue (and how can one have a quest or pilgrimage without one?), then I need a strong sense of the countryside through which my characters journey. If I can believe they cross a plain, thread their way through a forest, climb heights and descend them again, ford rivers, sail seas, get drenched in rains, rejoice to greet the dawn, then you, my future fans (a guy's gotta hope) may believe all this too.
So this evening, after painting the second wall of my bedroom and watering the garden, I have given thought to where the birth cities of the apostles are located. In the Sivvaron Empire (c) , of course; that is a given. But where were the siblings, the Great Martyr and the Great Apostle, born that they should conceive the idea of taking the Gospel to the lands about the Mere? And where might the primatial city of the province be located? [Tonight I decided it was the old capital of the province; there is a newer capital on the coast with easier access to the imperial capital.]
Given the expanse of the Empire, it should not surprise me, of all people, that the apostles come from some scattered territory. And that makes one wonder about other things? How did they come to the primatial city or become engaged in discussions of missionary ventures? What ordinary factors brought them together? One can well believe that the Holy Spirit brought them together, and indeed I do, but the Spirit's means are usually rather quotidian. We travel to visit friends and relatives, for commerce, for study, for pilgrimage, and for tourism, though this latter is not likely in late antiquity unless you are very wealthy and have nothing better to do. I suspect that even if you are very wealthy, you have more pressings matters than travel just to enjoy yourself.
As questions arise we can only assume there are stories behind the answers. And from that tangle of wondering come new tales.
Actually, the back story of the early lives of the apostles is not likely to be told, though it hovers in my mind. I am not sure how much of the early church history will be told in tales for publication. But I, who once thought I might get a PhD in Church history (and didn't), am busy writing the history of the early church in one region of a fantasy world. All my classwork at UCLA and years of reading now come to fruition. I feel like a second less-than-venerable Bede, piecing together the tale of a forming and emerging church. [It is no coincidence, btw, that the hero of the first novel has his grand adventure in 735 CE.]
Ah, reality breaks into fantasy. As I look at the map I worked on today, I realize that I need to change it. Already. The demands of plausibility. LOL. And it is over something that is not even part of the storyline of the Chronicles. As I said above: I have to believe it first.
Keep on believing, my friends.
--the BB
Nataraja
