Lore Is Flexible and Varies by Situation

How do the characters respond to the lore in the world? What parts of the story must you, as a writer, leave out because they already know certain things about the world? It takes a fine balance of themes and information to get this right, though I won’t say I have all the answers when it comes to fine-tuning the lore.

Honing the story into the tale meant to be told takes many steps, such as figuring out how much to leave out and how much to leave in. I don’t believe there is a one-size-fits-all answer to how to do this, but having a character that is unfamiliar with the world in some way usually helps.

That way, lore dumps don’t feel like the writer is forcing the reader to take it all in. World-building in this way is a safe approach, in a manner of speaking. Using an example from my childhood, the reason Final Fantasy X worked so well is that Tidus was unfamiliar with the world of Spira, being someone from (no spoilers) outside that world altogether. This allowed the story writers to flesh out the world in such a way that it felt natural, as the main character was learning the lore as much as the player.

This type of story doesn’t always work, depending on what is being told. In the Orchestrylus Odyssey, Stanzielle has lived in Liszt (the bottommost sphere) for her whole life of seventeen repeats. However, since she hasn’t ever gone to the other spheres above it, there is room for her to learn about the world as she goes.

Sometimes slower is better. In my series, I figured the best way to let things sink in slowly for the reader would be to start the series with light-novel-length books in the first three, then writing longer, 80,000-word-plus novels after the initial introduction to Orchestrylus.

A call-to-adventure story allows for the best fantasy plots, in my humble opinion. Whether it is a hero’s journey, or a four-act plot with minor changes to character arcs, setting the characters loose upon the world is a valid method—but I think a novel that takes place entirely in one home in the character’s mind could make for something great depending on how it was executed.

There is no right way. But there are many ways. That’s the beautiful thing about writing stories.

Leaving things out. Putting them in.

Or having a stationary situation where the entire plot takes place over twenty-four hours in a remote village with carnivorous plants invading the landscape and forcing people to make quick decisions.

Weird example, but the point is our lore is flexible. Do they know where these plants came from? Have they been seen before, or are they novel creatures that only appeared suddenly?

The wise old traveler that takes his residence on the edge of town might have something to share with the rest of the villagers about their current predicament.

Branching options lead to branching lore, which then leads to paths not always traveled.

What the lore does, and how it affects the story, is up to you.