I’ll be honest: setting is one of my weak points as a writer. Sometimes I don’t see settings as I envision scenes at all; other times, I don’t transfer enough of the settings I see in my head to the story on the page. (One of the many reasons I need critique partners!) And when I read, I seldom envision more than just a rough outline of a setting, no matter how much square footage the author devotes to the subject.
In fact, the more time an author spends describing the setting, the less likely I am to 1.) be able to picture it or 2.) 
actually read paragraph upon paragraph detailing the historical and architectural details of a location that will never pertain to the story. (Pointed look at a deceased author who shall remain nameless.) (10 brownie points to anyone who guesses who it is.)
On the other hand, I can’t (and won’t) deny the potential power of settings in storytelling and writing. Recently, I read a book that reconverted me to the power of settings, The Cruelest Month by Louise Penny.
The particular setting that she used so effectively was a house rumored to be haunted. The characters hold a séance there, and they reflect on the people who were murdered there. While those creepy details set the stage for a truly chilling setting, they are not enough to create the full effect on their own. (And we’ll finish that thought next time.)
What do you look for in a setting as you’re reading? How do you convey setting as you’re writing?
Picture by Lauren
I usually need to go back and add the setting in the second draft. I’m so busy with the action that I forget that my readers can’t see it through my eyes.
I’m the same way. Either I don’t think about it at all, or I don’t convey enough to make it powerful or even clear.
I like to know what the houses and furniture look like. I’m pretty good at including those details in my own writing, but I tend to forget about anything that’s outside.
Wow, I find that a really interesting distinction! I thought people who remember settings would remember all settings, but it makes so much sense that you’d gravitate toward the details you notice and care about.
I like the idea that setting is yet another character that speaks and acts and interacts with the other characters. How does the setting impede the character’s progress? How does it add to the conflict?
I agree with what Jordan said. I don’t care about a setting for it’s own sake. If I did, I’d just go read travel guides and B&B reviews. But give me a setting that’s mysterious or majestic or threatening and I’ll pay attention.
And I like the idea of setting as conflict. We’re so going there!
(And hey, I like travel guides and B&B reviews. Just not when I thought I was reading a novel.)
Really? You don’t do settings? Wow. In the stuff I have read, your settings are great. Granted I have been reading stuff that has been through critique work. I write w/o settings too. I remember a comment i recieved years ago, “great scene and action. . . where are we?” It has allways made me go back and rewrite setting into the scenes. but it is a revision skill for me. not a rough draft.
Thank you, Michelle! I’ve been thinking about this for a while, but I recently read a really helpful critique of a full, and this CP pointed out the scenes where I missed setting and sometimes even stage direction—the same kind of note you got 🙂 . She said she couldn’t visualize the scene, and I realized I’m usually not that kind of reader—so it’s harder for me to catch that in my writing.
I like calling it “a revision skill”—for me too!