Your World is finished, now let’s take a minute to breath and look back at what you’ve done.
You’ve shaped the mountain ranges, rivers, valleys, oceans and more to create your world. The land where poor farmers eke out a living on Cliffside terraces, where adrenaline junkies hang-glide through thousand foot forests, where post-apocalyptic kings and queens build junkyard fortresses on rocky outcrops.
You’ve decided what happened in your world before the current state. The myths and mysteries of your present day peoples have their roots here. Your audience may or may not learn of the exploits of the previous inhabitants, but the history you’ve created will serve as a foundation on which to plan the future.
You’ve been the invisible hand, deciding what has value in your world. You’ve played Karl Marx and Adam Smith. Gold coins or pieces of paper, free markets or gift economy, how your characters exchange, create, and acquire has been established.
You’ve created the hellos and goodbyes. Why should you rely on how people act and behave themselves in the real world? Creating social norms from scratch may seem like a small step in comparison to what you’ve already done, but it goes a long way towards convincing the audience that the characters in your story are real people.
You’ve filled the heads of those who populate your world with beliefs. The gods and spirits of your making roam the pantheons of your characters. Whether you’ve just changed the names of the Greek or Norse gods, or spent hours carefully crafting a complex and convoluted way for your characters to process the world, you’ve established a super-cultural touchstone for your characters to relate to.
You’ve done all this, your world lives. Taking the time and spending the effort to fleshing out your world pays serious dividends when the time comes to tell a story.