How to Build a Fictional World from a Single Strange Idea

Laura Morini
Dec 2
10 min read

Updated: 4 hours ago

Introduction: The Power of a Single Spark

I want to start by sharing something I love about writing fiction. Sometimes, all it takes is one tiny idea to build an entire world. That small spark can grow into a story, a culture, and even a universe with rules that feel alive. I have found that the more curious and unusual the idea, the more it opens doors to places I never imagined before.

Think about something simple from history or culture. A single invention, like the printing press, changed the way humans thought and shared stories. Or consider a curious myth, like Icarus flying too close to the sun. One strange idea in these examples shaped entire narratives and influenced generations. In fiction, you can do the same. One little question or odd image can become the foundation for your world.

I like to tell my students that ideas are everywhere. Sometimes they hide in small observations, like a peculiar object on a street corner or an odd phrase someone says. Other times, they are hidden in philosophical questions or tiny details from science. The trick is noticing them and letting your mind play with possibilities.

You might feel unsure about starting with something so small. I do too, sometimes. But the truth is that even a tiny spark can guide you in ways that a big, complicated idea cannot. It gives you freedom to explore, twist, and expand your world without feeling trapped by rules you invented too early.

Before we move to finding your own strange idea, I want you to remember this: curiosity matters more than complexity. It is not about having the most original concept ever. It is about noticing the small, strange things that catch your attention and trusting that they can grow. That is where your fictional world begins.

Finding the Strange Idea

I want to start by saying that strange ideas are all around us. They are in the small details we often overlook. A weird fact you read in a book, a question that pops into your head while walking, or even a curious pattern in nature can spark a story. I always keep a notebook with me for moments like this because these tiny sparks can turn into something much bigger.

Sometimes, the best way to notice curiosities is to ask questions constantly. Why does this happen? How did that come to be? What if this were different? I find that the more I ask, the more ideas show up. You might notice an odd tradition from another culture or a strange scientific phenomenon. These observations might feel small or random at first, but they are exactly the kind of material that can grow into a fictional world.

One exercise I like is to look around me and pick one thing that feels unusual. I describe it in detail, imagining it in different times or places. For example, I might see an old fountain and wonder what stories its water could tell if it were alive. By playing with small curiosities like this, I train myself to notice ideas that I can use later in my writing.

Another approach is to revisit facts or stories that have stuck with you. Maybe it is a philosophical question that made you think hard, like “What does it mean to remember something that never happened?” or a strange historical event. I write down these questions and see where my imagination takes them. Often, a pattern emerges, and the small idea starts to feel like it has its own universe.

Finally, I remind myself not to judge ideas too early. Even something that seems silly or impossible can become the heart of a fictional world. The important part is to notice what resonates with you. If it sparks curiosity or excitement, it is worth exploring. Trusting your instincts and paying attention to these strange sparks is how the seeds of your story start to grow.

Research and Exploration

Once you have a strange idea, the next step is exploring it. I like to think of research as a way to breathe life into that tiny spark. Even a small curiosity can open doors to history, science, or culture, giving your world depth and texture. I always start by asking simple questions: where did this come from, how does it work, and who has noticed it before? These questions guide me without overwhelming the idea.

I have found that research is most useful when it feels playful rather than like a chore. I follow threads wherever they lead, whether it is a scientific study, an old myth, or a cultural tradition. I jot down interesting details, but I never feel pressured to use everything. Only what adds to the story or sparks my imagination matters. The rest stays in my notes for later.

Sometimes, too much information can slow me down. To avoid this, I set boundaries for myself. I decide how far I want to dig into a topic and focus on details that enhance the strange idea I started with. For example, if I am curious about a rare flower, I research its appearance, scent, and folklore. I leave the technical biology for later unless it becomes relevant to the story. This keeps the idea alive instead of drowning it in facts.

I also like to mix different types of inspiration. History, science, and culture all have stories that can collide in unexpected ways. I might take a scientific concept and imagine it in a historical setting or explore how a cultural belief would affect people in my fictional world. Combining these threads often creates something more unique than sticking to one source.

Finally, I remind myself that research is a tool, not the goal. The purpose is to expand my curiosity, to understand the context around the strange idea, and to let it grow naturally. I let the details guide my imagination, not the other way around. This way, my fictional world starts to feel real and coherent while still carrying the spark that drew me in.

Defining Core Rules of the World

After exploring your strange idea, the next step is deciding how your world works. I like to think of this as setting the rules that everything in the story follows. These rules can be about logic, physics, culture, or even philosophy. I always start by asking myself what feels natural within the world I am imagining and what makes the idea unique.

Sometimes a single strange fact can guide the rules. For example, if your idea is a tree that remembers the past, then time and memory in your world might work differently. I like to play with these possibilities, imagining how people, objects, and events would react if this rule were real. It helps me create a consistent foundation that supports the story instead of confusing it.

I also think about cultural norms and beliefs. How would people live in this world? What would they value, fear, or celebrate? I write down small details like greetings, customs, or taboos because they make the world feel lived-in. I find that even tiny cultural rules can grow from the strange idea and reinforce the uniqueness of the universe.

Physics and logic matter too, even in fantastic worlds. I decide which natural laws are flexible and which stay fixed. Sometimes bending one rule creates interesting tension or conflict. I make sure the rule serves the story and adds intrigue rather than complicating it unnecessarily. The goal is always coherence and immersion.

Finally, I remind myself that rules are not limitations. They are a framework to help my imagination play freely while keeping the story believable. Once the rules are set, I can explore characters, settings, and events knowing that everything will fit together. That clarity makes it easier for the world to feel real and for readers to believe in the strange idea at its heart.

Building Characters Around the Idea

Once I have the rules of my world, I start thinking about the people who live in it. Characters are not just actors in a story; they are mirrors for the world itself. I like to ask myself how each character might reflect, challenge, or even break the rules I have set. This helps me understand both the world and the character more deeply.

I often begin by imagining how a character reacts to the strange idea at the heart of the world. If my world is shaped by a memory-tree, for example, how would someone feel knowing that the past is alive and observable? Would they embrace it, fear it, or try to change it? These questions give the character motivations that feel natural and connected to the universe I built.

I like to create characters that highlight different sides of the world. One might fully follow the rules, another might rebel against them, and a third might see hidden possibilities. This contrast allows me to explore the world from multiple angles, making it feel richer and more dynamic. I find that the interplay between characters often sparks new story ideas I hadn’t considered before.

I also pay attention to backstory. Where did this character come from, and how has the world shaped them? Even small details about upbringing, culture, or personal quirks can tie them to the core idea. I jot down short notes or scenes that reveal how they interact with the strange element that drives the world. These details make the characters feel alive and make their choices believable.

Finally, I remind myself that characters are the lens through which readers experience the world. By linking their desires, fears, and motivations to the central idea, I give readers a natural way to explore the universe. When characters feel real and connected to the strange idea, the story comes alive, and the world becomes something readers want to inhabit alongside them.

Creating Settings and Environments

After building characters, I turn my attention to the world around them. Settings are more than backdrops; they can amplify the strange idea at the heart of the story. I like to ask myself how the physical, cultural, or even metaphorical landscapes reflect the rules and themes of the world. A well-crafted setting can make the strange idea feel real and immersive.

I often start small, focusing on one location that matters to the story. It might be a street, a room, or a forest, but I pay attention to the details. What textures, smells, or sounds would someone notice? I imagine how the environment shapes the people who live there and how it reacts to the rules I have created. Even subtle details can make a location feel alive.

Culture and society are part of the setting too. I think about how people interact with their environment. Are there rituals tied to the strange idea? Do they build structures or objects around it? I like to sprinkle small cultural hints throughout the world, so it feels layered and consistent without overwhelming the reader with exposition.

Sometimes I use metaphorical landscapes to emphasize the central idea. For instance, a town that constantly changes shape could mirror a story about memory or identity. I find that blending literal and symbolic settings gives me freedom to explore themes while keeping the story engaging. It also adds depth that readers can feel even if they do not notice every detail consciously.

Finally, I remind myself to keep the setting cohesive. Each location should follow the world’s rules and feel connected to the strange idea. I sketch simple maps or make notes about how places relate to each other, but I leave room for improvisation. A living, consistent setting allows characters to move naturally through the world, making the story feel grounded and immersive.

Integrating Philosophical or Curious Themes

Once I have the world, characters, and settings in place, I like to think about the ideas I want readers to feel or explore. Philosophical or curious themes are not just thoughts; they can be experiences woven into the story. I ask myself what questions the strange idea naturally raises and how characters or events can bring those questions to life without needing to explain everything directly.

I often let reflection and wonder emerge from the story itself. Instead of stating a moral or concept outright, I show it through character decisions, conflicts, or strange phenomena in the world. For example, if the idea involves memory being tangible, I let characters interact with it in ways that reveal its meaning. This way, readers feel the theme rather than being told about it.

I like to sprinkle small puzzles or mysteries throughout the world. These do not have to be solved immediately. They are there to spark curiosity and make readers think. I find that leaving questions open-ended, or letting small oddities exist without full explanation, keeps the world alive and encourages readers to engage with it on a deeper level.

To avoid heavy-handed exposition, I often rely on showing rather than telling. I might describe how people react to a strange custom, how a character interprets a bizarre event, or how the environment shifts in response to unusual forces. Each detail can carry meaning without needing a lecture, allowing readers to discover themes naturally.

Finally, I remind myself that depth comes from connection, not complexity. By letting philosophical or curious ideas grow organically from the story and the strange idea at its core, the themes feel integrated and meaningful. Readers experience the wonder themselves, and the world becomes not just a place, but a space for reflection and imagination.

Testing and Expanding the World

Once I feel like my world is taking shape, I like to test it. I ask myself if it feels believable and compelling. I imagine what it would be like to live there, even for a short moment, and look for any parts that feel inconsistent or confusing. If something doesn’t make sense, I know it is worth revisiting before I move forward.

One method I use is writing short vignettes. These are little scenes or snapshots that explore corners of the world, often outside the main story. I let characters interact with the environment, strange ideas, or each other in ways that reveal details I might not have considered. Sometimes these vignettes lead to new story ideas or highlight gaps in the world that need attention.

Sketching maps or layouts also helps me see the world more clearly. I don’t worry about making them perfect or artistic. Even rough sketches can show how locations relate to each other, how characters might move through the space, and how the strange idea influences the geography or culture. Maps often reveal patterns or connections I hadn’t noticed before.

I also like to revisit rules, characters, and settings after testing them. I ask myself if they still align with the core idea and the themes I want to explore. Sometimes small changes in one area ripple through the world, making it richer and more consistent. Iteration is a natural part of the process, and I try to embrace it rather than seeing it as extra work.

Finally, I remind myself to enjoy the process of expansion. Exploring the edges of the world is one of the most fun parts of writing. Each test, vignette, or sketch helps the strange idea grow, and it gives me confidence that the world I am creating is something readers will want to explore alongside the characters. This way, the spark that started it all becomes a fully realized universe.

I hope this guide helps you take that first strange idea and turn it into a world all your own. If you have any questions or want to share your thoughts, feel free to leave a comment, I would love to hear from you. You can also explore my other Guides or dive into my fictional stories to see how these ideas come to life in different worlds. Happy writing!