Katherine Locke’s much anticipated debut, THE GIRL WITH THE RED BALLOON, released last week and as I am devouring this amazing book I thought it would be a great time to have Katherine over to talk about her writing process.
Setting is an incredibly important element of any novel, but most especially in historical fiction where setting much communicate the when just as much as the where. Below, Katherine describes writing Berlin in the present, in 1988 and in the WWII Era and shares some great insights about how to consider a character’s perception of setting during the writing process. After the guest post, be sure to check out more info about THE GIRL WITH THE RED BALLOON and about Katherine.
Setting as Catalyst and Mirror
By Katherine Locke
Alternative titles to this post could have been: Setting—Not
Just The Buildings or Setting is an Onion. Setting in my earliest books—the
ones that are trunked forever—didn’t get to the deeper layers. I described the
roads and how they were muddy, and the weather only if it was raining, and the
color of the army’s tents. It remained a fairly superficial part of the world. That’s what setting is, I thought to
myself. It’s where a story takes place.
You just have to describe what your characters see. As if there aren’t four
other senses, plus memory, instincts, and emotions that setting can churn up.
Just The Buildings or Setting is an Onion. Setting in my earliest books—the
ones that are trunked forever—didn’t get to the deeper layers. I described the
roads and how they were muddy, and the weather only if it was raining, and the
color of the army’s tents. It remained a fairly superficial part of the world. That’s what setting is, I thought to
myself. It’s where a story takes place.
You just have to describe what your characters see. As if there aren’t four
other senses, plus memory, instincts, and emotions that setting can churn up.
There is, of course, the necessity of the details in the
setting. You do have to describe the weather, or mention the streets or modes
of transportation, or adhere to historical or current reality. For those types
of details, do research. Even if you ‘know’ a place, do research.
setting. You do have to describe the weather, or mention the streets or modes
of transportation, or adhere to historical or current reality. For those types
of details, do research. Even if you ‘know’ a place, do research.
If you’re
writing books set in real places, places you can’t easily visit or have never
visited (I have never been to Berlin, for instance), then Google Maps street
view is your friend. I walked many streets of Berlin while writing The Girl with the Red Balloon and I
compared maps from pre-1989 when the Wall came down to current maps, so I could
find the exact streets where my characters walked. I looked at dozens and
dozens of photos from the time, finding the right intersections, types of
apartment buildings, and parks, and compared to street view so I could see what
was new construction and what wasn’t.
writing books set in real places, places you can’t easily visit or have never
visited (I have never been to Berlin, for instance), then Google Maps street
view is your friend. I walked many streets of Berlin while writing The Girl with the Red Balloon and I
compared maps from pre-1989 when the Wall came down to current maps, so I could
find the exact streets where my characters walked. I looked at dozens and
dozens of photos from the time, finding the right intersections, types of
apartment buildings, and parks, and compared to street view so I could see what
was new construction and what wasn’t.
But most importantly is that memory, emotion, and how
setting changes your story. Setting is more than the superficial details in a
story. Place can become character—Ketterdam in Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom plays as much of a role in the story as any of the
main characters—and characters are born of a place. We are where we live, and
where we’ve lived, and where our ancestors lived, and we carry layers of
emotion and memory with us to other places. I wrote once about being a Jewish
tourist in Europe and said that “To walk in Europe as a Jew is to walk on
graves.” That experience is something that Black Americans and Native people
might feel here in the United States, and that changes setting. What is
something warm and comforting to me is not to someone else, even if we are
seeing the same buildings, experiencing the same weather, tasting the same tea.
setting changes your story. Setting is more than the superficial details in a
story. Place can become character—Ketterdam in Leigh Bardugo’s Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom plays as much of a role in the story as any of the
main characters—and characters are born of a place. We are where we live, and
where we’ve lived, and where our ancestors lived, and we carry layers of
emotion and memory with us to other places. I wrote once about being a Jewish
tourist in Europe and said that “To walk in Europe as a Jew is to walk on
graves.” That experience is something that Black Americans and Native people
might feel here in the United States, and that changes setting. What is
something warm and comforting to me is not to someone else, even if we are
seeing the same buildings, experiencing the same weather, tasting the same tea.
The idea
that emotions, and someone’s emotional reaction, might be the most important
element of setting drove all of my setting in The Girl with the Red Balloon. There are three main settings in the
book (this spoils nothing, don’t worry!): Berlin in the present day, East
Berlin 1988, and 1941-1942 Łódź
Ghetto in Poland. Each place has microsettings within them, parks, houses,
streets, etc.
that emotions, and someone’s emotional reaction, might be the most important
element of setting drove all of my setting in The Girl with the Red Balloon. There are three main settings in the
book (this spoils nothing, don’t worry!): Berlin in the present day, East
Berlin 1988, and 1941-1942 Łódź
Ghetto in Poland. Each place has microsettings within them, parks, houses,
streets, etc.
In the
present day Berlin setting, Ellie, my protagonist, is struggling with the guilt
of returning to Berlin, where her grandfather was deported and sent to a ghetto
and then a death camp during the Holocaust. She experiences Berlin very
differently than her classmates. I use descriptions to show that she’s
overwhelmed by everything around her—how modern and not terrible it feels. How much she feels that it’s a modern city,
beautiful and alluring to her, because the more it dazzles her, the deeper into
that guilty funk Ellie sinks. And as that happens, the buildings and memorials
feel taller, shinier, make her blink and squint, and she retreats away from
what makes Berlin unique—the modernity next to its memorials—to a generic park.
The setting becomes a refuge again.
present day Berlin setting, Ellie, my protagonist, is struggling with the guilt
of returning to Berlin, where her grandfather was deported and sent to a ghetto
and then a death camp during the Holocaust. She experiences Berlin very
differently than her classmates. I use descriptions to show that she’s
overwhelmed by everything around her—how modern and not terrible it feels. How much she feels that it’s a modern city,
beautiful and alluring to her, because the more it dazzles her, the deeper into
that guilty funk Ellie sinks. And as that happens, the buildings and memorials
feel taller, shinier, make her blink and squint, and she retreats away from
what makes Berlin unique—the modernity next to its memorials—to a generic park.
The setting becomes a refuge again.
Setting
should spark changes in your characters, and those reactions should change the
way your character interacts with the setting. When your character is panicked,
their surroundings close in on them, the familiar becomes unfamiliar. When your
character is confident, the sky spreads out above them, seemingly endless. This
too then signals to and reflects in the reader their interactions with the
setting and the reader.
should spark changes in your characters, and those reactions should change the
way your character interacts with the setting. When your character is panicked,
their surroundings close in on them, the familiar becomes unfamiliar. When your
character is confident, the sky spreads out above them, seemingly endless. This
too then signals to and reflects in the reader their interactions with the
setting and the reader.
For me,
this isn’t a process that comes easily. It’s a process I tackle mostly in
revisions, and then in many revision passes, tweaking lines and sentences and
occasionally whole paragraphs to allow my setting to amplify or change what’s
happening with my character and plot. I’m a reviser and a rewriter, so that
might be my process. Yours may be different. But I encourage you to go beyond
the necessary but superficial details. Use setting as a catalyst and a mirror.
I suspect you’ll find it changes your story for the better.
this isn’t a process that comes easily. It’s a process I tackle mostly in
revisions, and then in many revision passes, tweaking lines and sentences and
occasionally whole paragraphs to allow my setting to amplify or change what’s
happening with my character and plot. I’m a reviser and a rewriter, so that
might be my process. Yours may be different. But I encourage you to go beyond
the necessary but superficial details. Use setting as a catalyst and a mirror.
I suspect you’ll find it changes your story for the better.
About THE
GIRL WITH THE RED BALLOON
GIRL WITH THE RED BALLOON
(Now Available from Albert Whitman & Company) YA
Historical Fantasy
Historical Fantasy
Ellie Baum feels the weight of history on her when she arrives on a
school trip to Berlin, Germany. After all, she’s the first member of her family
to return since her grandfather’s miraculous escape from a death camp in 1942.
One moment she’s contemplating the Berlin Wall Memorial amidst the crowd, and
the next, she’s yanked back through time, to 1988 East Berlin when the Wall is
still standing.
school trip to Berlin, Germany. After all, she’s the first member of her family
to return since her grandfather’s miraculous escape from a death camp in 1942.
One moment she’s contemplating the Berlin Wall Memorial amidst the crowd, and
the next, she’s yanked back through time, to 1988 East Berlin when the Wall is
still standing.
Nobody
knows how she got there, not even the members of the underground guild–the
Runners and the Schopfers–who use balloons and
magic to help people escape over the Wall. Now as a stranger in an oppressive
regime, Ellie must hide from the police with the help of Kai, a Runner
struggling with his own uneasy relationship with the powerful Balloonmakers and
his growing feelings for Ellie. Together they search for the truth behind
Ellie’s mysterious travel, and when they uncover a plot to alter history with
dark magic, she must risk everything–including her only way home–to stop the
deadly plans.
knows how she got there, not even the members of the underground guild–the
Runners and the Schopfers–who use balloons and
magic to help people escape over the Wall. Now as a stranger in an oppressive
regime, Ellie must hide from the police with the help of Kai, a Runner
struggling with his own uneasy relationship with the powerful Balloonmakers and
his growing feelings for Ellie. Together they search for the truth behind
Ellie’s mysterious travel, and when they uncover a plot to alter history with
dark magic, she must risk everything–including her only way home–to stop the
deadly plans.
About Katherine Locke
Katherine Locke lives and
writes in a very small town outside of Philadelphia, where she’s ruled by her
feline overlords and her addiction to chai lattes. She writes about that which
she cannot do: ballet, time travel, and magic. When she’s not writing, she’s
probably tweeting. She not-so-secretly believes most stories are fairy tales in
disguise.
