You’ve heard it time and time again: avoid info-dumping.
You may feel you need to explain backstory so readers understand the now. Or lay out the whole magic system before a spell leaves the caster’s fingertips.
But the reader experiences info-dumping like a traffic jam: their progress is ground to a halt and they just wanna. Get. Moving.
Read on for four ways to avoid info-dumping when world-building.
Sprinkle details throughout the story
Usual advice to avoid info-dumping is to not explain everything in one go, but sprinkle details ‘when it’s needed’. But what does this look like?
I’ve recently read Carol Berg’s fantastic Ash and Silver, the second in her Sanctuary duet. (Why hadn’t I heard of her sooner?). Great characters and captivating story aside, she expertly weaves tiny details that subtly build up the tapestry of her magic system:
It didn’t fade or dim, but just … stopped … A bound spell shouldn’t need constant infusion of magic to hold.
I couldn’t even spark my own light, which meant the only two defensive magic spells I knew— void holes beneath their feet and spits of true flame—were wholly out of reach.
As ever in cases of magical depletion, I had the shivers.
No tiring monologue needed – just snippets of consequences or rules when they’re relevant to the story.
Look for (or create) opportunities to tie in morsels of story-world or magic-system information with plot events.
Just make sure that any rules that complicate major plot points are established beforehand to avoid the scenarios seeming contrived: Why couldn’t she teleport the F outta there? Oooh, because of [insert rule that’s just been introduced]. How convenient.
Let description do double duty
Description can easily be overdone, and it’s best to give the reader all they need to know, and not much else. Ask yourself: does the reader need to know this now?
And if they do, can the description do double duty, such as enhance character or illuminate the situation? I’ll pass the mic back to Carol:
A few quercae [a measurement of distance] forward into the ramshackle warren, and the faint drone of a hurdy-gurdy and the muted rapping of the tabor testified that not all its residents slept. I imagined I heard a trill of piping as well … and laughter …
As a fiery lance out of the blackness, grief pierced my breast. Remeni-Mason family gatherings had ever been noisy, joyful celebrations. Games and music and a generous table. Contests of strength, speed, and magic, a rare balance of the strict discipline of our daily life. I had sorely regretted the extra work that kept me away from the last one.
While the use of sounds paints a vivid picture and contributes to atmosphere, they also sparked grief over the life no longer available to Lucian, and in doing so clueing us into the type of life those of his station live.
In Description & Setting, the author argues description that is only description is clutter. I don’t completely agree with this – describing setting for the sole purpose of orientating the reader is fine; not every detail needs to be imbued with or linked to extra meaning. But giving description more than one purpose makes it feel less of an interruption to the story.
Merge setting with movement and character
Laina marvelled. This place seemed to ignore gravity. Water flowed upwards in graceful arcs, threading through the air like ribbons. Cilia-like grass blanketed the ground, emanating a pulsing glow.
As vivid as this passage is, it pauses the momentum – like any description that’s plonked in the story.
Adding movement and character reactions gives a sense of action:
Laina planted her feet down, head spinning as she watched, trancelike, the water flowing above her in graceful arcs, threading through the air like ribbons. The pulsing, cilia-like grass caressed her exposed calf with each step. She closed her eyes. Focus on that feeling. On being grounded.
Not award-winning prose by a long shot, but while the revised version may be longer, it now feels like we’re immersed in the setting with Laina, not experiencing it through a detached narrative. It no longer reads like static description.
Comb through your manuscript for bits of description that’s simply there, and try introducing character reactions, sensations, and movement.
Avoid ‘As you know, Bob’ dialogue
When characters say things they already know, clearly for the benefit of the reader, you have ‘As you know, Bob’ dialogue. You may think, Hey, this important info isn’t written as exposition, so that’s okay! But you’d be wrong: info-dumping in dialogue is still info-dumping.
Here’s an example:
‘Hey Jon, my brother from Wales. How’ve you been? Come in, come in.’
Both the speaker and Jon know their relation to each other, so clearly this titbit is for the reader. The problem with this is it isn’t anything people would naturally say, destroying the illusion of a real conversation.
This technique can be used to slip in world-building information, too. But again, if the characters know what’s being discussed, the dialogue has no reason to exist. In the TV series Travelers, the time travellers have protocols they must abide by:
- The mission comes first
- Leave the future in the past
- Do not take a life; do not save a life, unless otherwise directed
- Do not reproduce
- In the absence of direction, maintain your host’s life
- Do not communicate with other known travellers outside of your team, unless sanctioned
A character breaking, or is considering breaking, a protocol, is usually accompanied by a team member shouting, ‘Hey, what about Protocol One!’ Or when a mission is over, the leader says ‘That’s our Protocol Five’, and they disband and return to their lives.
What they don’t do is explain the protocol: ‘Okay, that’s protocol Five, we’ve finished our mission, lets go back to our lives and wait until we receive the next mission.’ They know the protocols off by heart.
Here’s what you can do instead:
- As James Scott Bell advises in How to Write Dazzling Dialogue: ‘Act first, explain later. Readers will wait a long time for explanatory material if there is solid action going on.’
- Include a newbie (either the POV character or someone they teach) who needs information explaining to – this way, the conversation will feel natural, not contrived
- Consider whether the information can be shown at a more relevant time – instead of someone explaining how magic works or how a ritual should be performed, can we see a character experimenting with magic or attend said ritual?
Final thoughts...
It can be tough to avoid that dreaded info-dump, especially if you’re writing fantasy or sci-fi, which naturally involve more world-building than other genres. And while some info-dumping and explanatory exposition are tolerated a little more by SFF readers, there are ways to incorporate world-building more seamlessly and avoid info-dumping:
- Sprinkle details throughout the story
- Let description do double duty
- Merge setting with movement and character
- Avoid ‘As you know, Bob’ dialogue
