I'm dipping my toes into the deep well of research for the trilogy project, and it's fascinating. However, I've been slightly sidetracked by a rabid plot bunny which might just give birth to the foundation story of the series. It was completely unexpected, but really intriguing nonetheless.
I've long thought that a writer needs to know about their world as if it were a monumental iceberg. Only ten percent is visible to the naked eye, but there is depth and mass, composition and temperature, and movement. There is always movement. While I need to recognize every pebble and ice crystal of the worlds I create, and that sometimes happens only when I trip over them and scrape my knees, it nevertheless doesn't mean I must include every tiny detail on the page. I think that might just sink the ship called Interest.
