It’s an adage we hear early in our writing careers. You can’t avoid it, along with “show don’t tell,” “write every day,” and a slew of other prominent writing tips. It all seemed like sage advice when I started writing fiction and I took each maxim to heart.
But when I stopped to think about “write what you know”—what did I really know? I knew my day job (I’m an architect), how to adult (more or less), and that I wanted to write a book (a fantasy trilogy actually). But I didn’t know how to write a novel or how what I knew would help craft my story.
I consumed everything I could find on writing craft, took tons of classes and attended writing conferences. I was gaining practical knowledge, but something still wasn’t clicking.
Then I read Ursula K. Le Guin’s brilliant advice: “Write what you know, but remember you may know dragons.”
It was like fireworks went off and my brain tossed a few dozen pom-poms in the air!
“Write what you know” didn’t mean “write your life.” It meant, draw from your life. From everything that makes you unique, to turn that idea rattling around your head into a novel.
It meant this is your story, and your world, and your characters, and you KNOW THEM because YOU’RE CREATING THEM. Whether they’re college students, grizzled detectives, eighteenth-century wizards, or literally dragons. You’re going to spend time learning who they are, researching and crafting their world and because of that, you will know them.
That revelation was so exciting because I knew lots of stuff that I could apply to my novel—everything I’ve ever seen, learned, experienced, dreamt, or read. It was overwhelming to realize how much fodder my imagination had to work with.
Then I wondered, now that I know that I know A LOT, how do I write what I know in a unique way?
The answer was right in front of me:
How I Wrote What I Know
As an architect, I use several creative methods on a daily basis to deliver building designs to clients. These are “dragons” I know well, and several can be applied to writing. Especially Mind Mapping and Decision Trees.
They work perfectly as story ideation techniques, helping your imagination tap into what you know. I’m always amazed at how simple and effective they are at taking me from vague, ho-hum ideas to solid, interesting ones.
Mind Mapping
This is absolutely my favorite ideation method. It’s a wonderful exercise that gets you out of your head and brainstorming about anything: world building, character development, dire situations for characters and how they survive (or don’t), magic systems, you name it.
In mind mapping you make a visual “map” of loosely interconnected thoughts that branch out from each other. It should be messy and spontaneous and much like a first draft. Don’t overthink it. Don’t second-guess or judge what you’re writing.
Your finished product will be filled with random circles with interconnecting lines. From that you choose the attributes that resonate the most with you to incorporate into your novel.
How to Mind Map
Pick one topic to focus on per mind map: a character, setting, political system, magic system, etc. Anything that pertains to your story. Then gather your mapping tools.
Because my design process is ingrained in me, I prefer to mind map by hand. I use a roll of architectural tracing paper and a felt tip pen. But you can use any medium that works for you. Software like yED, Miro, or Canva that lets you draw circles to populate with words/phrases and connect with lines, or a blank sheet of letter-sized paper.
Be prepared to tape other pieces of paper to the first one as your mind map grows to accommodate all of the awesome traits you’ll explore.
As an example, let’s mind map an antagonist for my in-process fantasy novel. This person isn’t the main villain, but reoccurs in the story, causing trouble for my main character (MC).
I’ve included a visual of the finished mind map below. I’ve color-coded each step so you can see how I built my mind map, but color isn’t necessary for yours.
First, I draw a circle in the center of my paper and write “Antagonist” because I don’t know anything else about them yet. I’ll pick a name after I know who they are.
From that central circle (in red) I draw other circles surrounding it. In each of those circles I write a basic attribute for this antagonist, thinking about who I want them to be, how they’ll vex my MC, and how their physicality, mannerisms, speech patterns, etc. reinforce that.
I start with male, 40-ish, arrogant, authority figure, and liar. Those are the green circles in the map and connect back to the red circle.
I expand on the attributes in green with connecting circles in yellow, then expand on the yellow traits with more connections in blue circles, and any final traits related to the blue circled traits are circled in purple.
My finished mind map:
Now I have lots of great characteristics to work with when writing my antagonist, although I might not use all of them in refining his character.
Mind Mapping can be used to create depth for any aspect of a novel. It can even be used to map out scene and story ideas. It’s just a lot more circles and a bigger sheet of paper!
A Decision Tree
I use my second favorite design tool “dragon” to discover creative ways to get characters in and out of trouble. After all, we want the worst for our heroes/heroines and the best for our readers.
In this exercise, you’ll focus on a situation or a problem. The goal is to list all related options that come to mind without judging them, exploring multiple possibilities to find the best option.
Sometimes one that at first seems far-fetched or silly, can be the right choice. It might just need a little tweak to make it plausible.
Decision trees can also help eliminate characters making choices that are solely plot-driven. The choices that make readers groan—or worse, not finish a book—because it seems like the author didn’t explore better ways to move the plot forward.
How to Create a Decision Tree
You’ll generate a list of at least five options for whatever you’re thinking through. You don’t need to stop at five, but don’t do less. The goal is to stretch your creativity to find the option that will intrigue readers so much they can’t stop reading.
In this example, again using my in-process fantasy novel, I’ll explore how my main character’s (MC) best friend, Tom, might betray the MC to the constable from our earlier mind mapping exercise.
For background, Tom is irresponsible and drinks too much at times, but he’s the MC’s only friend. Tom resents the MC asking him to keep an earth-shattering secret and hits rock-bottom after divulging it, which starts his redemption arc. I keep those points in mind while I explore the options.
As I make my list, the most obvious option pops up first. But I want a less obvious, more creative one. So, I keep listing out options until my brain is exhausted. Usually, one of those last options fits the bill. Sometimes to help me decide, I expand a bit on each option as it relates to the plot, character, etc.
I used Microsoft Word for my decision tree, but you can use any medium you want:
You might notice the last two options expand on Option #3. That often happens and means that you’ve hit on a good solution. By continuing to list out options, you’ve made the solution more specific and more interesting.
For my story I’ll use Option #5 because it multi-tasks in the novel: it’s plausible, devastates the MC when he finds out, reinforces the constable’s character, and provides a strong starting point for Tom’s redemption arc.
You can use decision trees for any decisions your characters need to make and to unstick yourself when you’re feeling blocked or think you’ve written yourself into a corner.
I find that listing out options—especially absurd or implausible ones—gets me out of my head and reframes my thinking about the problem I got myself and my characters into.
Remember to Write What You Know
While the techniques illustrated above are some of my dragons, we all have “dragons we know.” Even those of us writing romance, mystery, thrillers, or any of the other gazillion genres that have nary a fire-breathing, scaly, winged creature gracing their pages.
The dragons Ursula K Le Guin urged us to remember are all around us. In us. Are us. They’re the sum of who we are and where our imaginations take us.
So, what are the dragons you’ve remembered and how will they help you “write what you know?”