Everybody knows that when kids find a frog, the first thing they want to do is put the frog in a shoe box, toss in some grass, maybe a few bugs, and then set it on their dresser. Sure they may check on it throughout the day, but it doesn't take long before the newness wears off and the frog is forgotten. But what about that poor frog? Is it happy in that old shoe box? Does a hand full of grass and a few bugs resemble the pond, the tree, or the big backyard that it once called its home? Has it become one with its new habitat or "setting"? Nope! Nada! Zip! So, what does a frog in a shoe box have to do with the setting for a story or a book?
It's often been said that plot, character development, and setting are the three main components of a good book or story. For me, however, it's more like the setting comes first, then the character, and finally the plot. At least that is how stories come to me. I see a place--in person or in a picture--I love, and then I start asking the "What ifs?" From those questions, my setting as to place begins to grow. Once I have the place, then I decide on the time or the era. From that point, I learn everything I can about it. One of my favorite authors, Tony Hillerman, said, “An author knows his landscape best; he can stand around, smell the wind, get a feel for his place.” Now I know that frog can stand in that cardboard box and get a feel for his small place, but can it smell the wind? It's what I ask myself before I start any of my books. Do I know my setting well enough that I can smell the wind? I definitely don't want to end up with so little setting around my main character that he or she has no where to go, and discovers that even the wind has disappeared. So for me, that frog needs to be let out of the shoe box and returned to its natural setting.
It's often been said that plot, character development, and setting are the three main components of a good book or story. For me, however, it's more like the setting comes first, then the character, and finally the plot. At least that is how stories come to me. I see a place--in person or in a picture--I love, and then I start asking the "What ifs?" From those questions, my setting as to place begins to grow. Once I have the place, then I decide on the time or the era. From that point, I learn everything I can about it. One of my favorite authors, Tony Hillerman, said, “An author knows his landscape best; he can stand around, smell the wind, get a feel for his place.” Now I know that frog can stand in that cardboard box and get a feel for his small place, but can it smell the wind? It's what I ask myself before I start any of my books. Do I know my setting well enough that I can smell the wind? I definitely don't want to end up with so little setting around my main character that he or she has no where to go, and discovers that even the wind has disappeared. So for me, that frog needs to be let out of the shoe box and returned to its natural setting.
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