I inspect the store in more detail. It’s packed, cluttered even; next to the clothes rack is a book case that extends the entire length of one wall, and although it is mostly filled with books, there is also a purple wig, a figurine of some white-haired anime character, and a cactus. In the back corner there is a metal bin filled with DVDs and children’s toys. Next to the bin, fish swim in a tank, flooded with blue light. I could go on. The place is such a mess I don’t know where to look, or what to focus on.
Except perhaps for the vending machine opposite the metal bin. I study it carefully, and find it stocked. I take a moment to read the list of items: rosewater, holywater, unholywater, beer, sheep’s blood, granola bars, and something called “psychiate”. I’m more surprised by the more ordinary items. There are ten kit-kat flavours, most of which seem plausible. There’s also “flammable” “fire,”, and “kraken”. I’m unsure if that one is of this place or of the world I knew.
As a reader, one of my favourite things about stories is what isn't fully shown. I love details that which hint at the full depth of the world beyond what the story is showing me. I know a book isn't the perfect medium for it, but that's what makes it even more impressive when an author creates the feeling that I'm inhabiting their world. I want to be given the impression that I can pick up any item no matter how irrelevant, and investigate it. If there is absolutely none of this it feels like the the book is all performance. In that case, there is nothing to reassure me there is no backstage and that all the objects in the book are not merely props.
Fictional worlds feels far richer when I'm convinced that every fictional book is itself more than just a prop. It's why I love Borges the Library of Babel, and enjoyed Erin Morgenstern's The Starless Sea. Both of these take the idea that there is more to this world, we do not see it only because there is so much and run with it.
I'm trying to do a lot with this piece of writing, but in particular I'm trying to invoke the sense that one is genuinely inhabiting a world. That no part of the world is off limits or incomplete. That the reader, if they so chose, could decide to stray from the protagonist entirely and investigate the place at their leisure. And, most importantly, that if they did this they would find world remains just as detailed.
Of course, books are static things so no reader could abandon the path the author laid out for them. As readers, we have to content ourselves with what we are shown and the glimpses of what lies beyond. As writers, we have a rather more tricky job: we must keep the story focused, but it can't appear isolated. The world the story moves through must be interesting, but what we're showing them must be the most interesting. The wordly details must hint at more, but not obscure what is relevant to the plot.
Getting this right for myself in this work is hard enough - getting it right for every reader is likely impossible. Still, I'm having a lot of fun writing this so there will likely be more of this in the future.
