A World In My Head

I think I've got tyhat "world-in-the-head" thing sorted, and in the process, I've learned a valuable lesson.
I've already mentioned that the book's set in 1943ish, in WWII. Much of the action takes place in and around New Guinea, so it's just been a matter of getting names right.

But here's the lesson... don't over-do it. I think it would be easy to get completely obsessed with making it perfect, and while I don't underestimate the importance of getting it right, immersing ones self in the minutae is a distraction from the real job, which is to write a story.

I guess it's a fine line. I remember being forced to read Hemmingway at school. Now there's a writer obsessed with minutae. Ernest spends pages describing tiny detail, and I recall wishing he'd just bloody well get on with the story. Critics hail Hemmingway as a great writer... an immortal to be studied and dissected. I thought he was ponderous but who am I to criticise.

One thing is certain. I'm no Hemmingway, and you can take that any way you like.

Anyway. On with the task.

I now have my world, and if I follow the formula, I'm supposed to create real characters to populate it. There's the brave Coast Watcher. The tough army nurse. The respectful Japanese freighter captain and a whole supporting cast who may or may not make it from neuron to keyboard.

They need work, those characters, and I'm starting to think it's a chicken and egg problem... you can't have characters without context (which is the story), and you can't have a story without characters.

Or maybe I just need to start writing after all.