14 | The Writer • October 2019
as raw and pure as your own home-
town. Your family and friends might
still live there. You have memories that
go bone-deep. That place is as much a
part of you as your own fingers skim-
ming the keyboard.
So why, when choosing a setting for
short stories and novels, do many
authors create a fictional version of
where they grew up? What’s the
appeal? And once you get started, how
do you do it right?
Frustrated by these questions, and
wondering what I’m (almost definitely)
doing wrong, I sought out several
authors who’ve found success fictional-
izing their birthplaces. They shared
their wisdom and advice, and we
laughed over common misconceptions
and mistakes. There’s no perfect way to
do this, and you’d be wrong if you
thought fictionalizing were easy. But
with a few smart do’s and don’ts, you’ll
feel a lot steadier as you step forward
on a similar quest.
DO:
Ask yourself why. Many writers love
seasoning their manuscripts with tastes
of home. But home means something
different to everyone, including your
characters. Before you slide a creative
spin on your hometown into your
novel, ask yourself why that’s the best
fit. Are you searching for more creative
rein or trying to avoid readers’ precon-
ceptions? Would your story make more
sense in a world most audiences can
visualize – for instance, the streets of
downtown Manhattan – or someplace
that’ll require much deeper detail? Lis-
ten to your gut as you make this choice,
and take my experience as an example:
You’re allowed to change your mind.
Soniah Kamal, author of Unmar-
riageable, a Pride and Prejudice retell-
ing set in her birth country of Pakistan,
recommends one good reason to
choose fictionalization: You don’t have
to sweat the small stuff. If you’re writ-
ing about a hometown you haven’t vis-
ited in a while, you’d hate to set the
story around a restaurant that closed
five years ago. A fictional town gives
you the freedom to use those child-
hood influences without adhering to
every minor historical detail.DON’T:
Assume fictionalizing is a get-out-of-
jail-free card. Sure, you get to pick
where the coffee shops and stop signs
go. But that doesn’t mean you have a
license to create entirely new rules for
where your characters live. Even in sci-
ence fiction or fantasy, there are real-
world considerations to respect.
Consider my made-up Missouri
town. If I liked, I could infest it with
unicorns. That’s the beauty of fiction.
But it’s in Missouri, so those unicorns
better be able to survive in high humid-
ity, and on a diet of soybeans and corn.
You’ll have to make similar choices
with any story based – even loosely! –
on reality. Your readers will go along
with your larger creative choices if you
can establish, first, that you know the
region you’re writing about.DO:
Start with your most visceral memo-
ries. When Cynthia Swanson sat down
to pen her latest novel, The Glass Forest,
she envisioned a specific spot where
her town would reside. She grew up in
Peekskill, New York, and The Glass For-
est’s setting – fictional Stonekill, New
York – needed to look different but
evoke the region’s sights and sounds. To
begin, she tapped her most vivid child-
hood memories: the smell of the Hud-
son River; the sound of trains rolling
along the tracks at night; the choke of
woods that swallowed winding roads.
She knew these details were authentic
to the area, and Peekskill residents
would recognize her subtle nods. But
she left enough unsaid that she could
still develop a new town with its own
myths and legends.
When developing your landscape,
try something similar: Ask yourself
what you remember most about home.
Take a page from your kindergartenexercises, and check off the five senses.
What did you eat most often at your
parents’ table? Did the stench wafting
from a nearby hog farm force you to
drive by with your nose plugged? What
did the trees look like in the middle of
winter? Could you hear wind whistling
through the canyons while you tried to
fall asleep?
You won’t want to use every mem-
ory, as some will only be applicable to
you and not to the region itself. But the
ones you feel are universal? Those are
your keepers.DON’T:
Rely entirely on those memories. Swan-
son says she started the writing process
by acting on instincts and visceral
memories. She didn’t even have a
chance to go home to Peekskill for addi-
tional research until she’d already sold
her manuscript to Simon & Schuster.
But when she did go home, she knew
she had some double-checking to do.
She drove to the exact place where she
pictured Stonekill could stand, and
there, she scanned her surroundings to
ensure everything matched what she’d
put on the page.
Even in fiction, this sort of
research is essential. Swanson cross-
referenced her story with first-hand
testimony, old photos, and historical
accounts of the Peekskill area. You
might think you know the place
where you grew up, but more likely
than not, there are details you’ve for-
gotten, events you’ve overlooked, and
context that can hugely alter the inter-
pretation of your manuscript.DO:
Choose your name wisely. In the
fraught early drafting process, it might
be tempting to slap a name on your
town and call it a night. But especially
in fiction – where names like Hogwarts
and Metropolis are immortalized – you
want something that stands out (and, if
you’re ambitious, might look good on a
sign at Universal Studios). Still, the