Literature provides a certain kind of potential that other forms of art often do not. That potential lies in creativity and the freedom to interpret stories. It is one thing to judge a movie or TV series by its visuals, actors or design choices when every aesthetic choice is already made for us — it is something entirely different when a story is presented to you in a book and you must imagine how the world looks in your head. Doing that with novels and stories based on our reality is already interesting, but the creative possibilities in storytelling can expand greatly by looking into worlds of fiction.
The subgenre term “alternate history” generally inspires one of two different ideas in people’s heads — it’s either a grueling dystopian world like “The Handmaid’s Tale” or “The Man in the High Castle” or a completely fictional world that only vaguely resembles ours like the setting of “Dune” or “Starship Troopers.” In either case, the emphasis in these examples tends to be the story of a single character and their adventures. The experience of living in that fictional world takes a second place to the protagonist’s experience, which presents a complicated dilemma. Focusing on the life of a character is good for creating a connection between the character and the reader, but that focus often takes away from the energy put into interpreting parallels in the world of the story.
Building a good fiction story requires genuine characters and a solid arc, but an equally indispensable part of storytelling is creating a captivating world. Having that aspect of a complex setting makes a key difference in a story stand out, as the environment in which the plot lives determines the quality of the story. I previously referenced an issue related to narrative choices very briefly while talking about the depiction of history in movies, but the issue is even more pronounced in books, where plot holes become a bigger problem. Alternate history, by its very nature as fiction, requires the creator to defy the historical truth and present a different world diverging from ours. Making a new world that resonates with readers and ensuring that the timeline of events follows each other in a meaningful, coherent way is vital when writing a new universe out of whole cloth.
And what can be done to improve world-building? For alternate history, the first step — and probably the most obvious one — is to understand the real history first. You cannot create a believable story that diverges from ours without understanding all the dynamics that made our history develop the way it did. How did this leader come into power? Why did this war break out, and why did it end the way it did? Why and how did this piece of culture, music, art or science affect the chain of events? Asking these questions is how alternate-history writers often come up with the first “What if?” that becomes the foundation of the fictional universe.
The second part and, in my opinion, the most difficult stage, is building characters out of that new world. I must stress this heavily — build characters “out” of your world and don’t shoehorn historical figures “into” the story. Creating a fictional world is about the nuances of history that will fundamentally change a person, group or even an entire nation. A keen knowledge of history is, therefore, vital when it comes to depicting changes to reality that follow a believable trajectory.
The third and most important point is “perspectives,” which are seldom appreciated in fictional works but are incredibly important to utilize. As Leo Tolstoy was attributed as saying, “All great literature is one of two stories; a person goes on a journey or a stranger comes to town.” Making the character interact with personalities different from their own, seeing new perspectives and adding historical background to characters you create along the way is a solid way to add depth.
As a final suggestion for the alternate-history genre, “immersion” is key. I wouldn’t be interested in the uniqueness or strangeness of a story if I could not feel like I was living in that world myself. Small, ordinary day-to-day experiences can be weaved into a fictional story to ground it into something innately human. The value of human imagination comes down to how creative a fictional dimension can look because, as far as literature is concerned, the depth of a character and their story comes from the depth of their environment.
By no means does a fictional story need to be fully fleshed out right from the start, and it doesn’t necessarily need to be “realistic” in the strict sense of the word to be valuable. However, allowing characters to experience their lives in fiction is essential for the reader to empathize with them and see their perspectives — I believe that to be the true purpose of alternate history, and better world-building can go a long way to make it more popular for everyone.
Deniz Gulay is a sophomore double-majoring in history and Russian.
Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the staff editorial.