Come On In

Well hello!
As a fantasy writer, I want my readers to feel welcome in my storyworld of Lonecca. At home and eager to explore. What makes you feel welcome? Not just in books, but in general? Being the overly analytical person I am, my first thought was pleasantry. A smile? The offer of goodies (works for me)?

A stack of freshly baked cookies held in hands, capturing a homemade snack vibe.

Professor Google refutes that cozy thought. There’s something even more essential: Safety. Our subconscious constantly scans the environment for signs of danger. If I feel uneasy, I won’t stick around long enough to sample your cappuccino. Otherwise, we’re good. Stories work the same way. If the opening music in a show feels too foreboding, we might not watch any further. Yet if it’s too sappy or intrusive, we’re just as likely to keep surfing.

Three people enjoying a relaxed movie night at home, sitting on a couch in a cozy living room.

Without the advantage of that sensory soundtrack, or actors’ faces, or a strategic set design, books rely on their words for everything.  A novel’s opening should at least hint at the emotional experience ahead. That’s part of the reason I created my own whimsical expressions of Loneccan profanity. And included animals. And plenty of found family elements. If those are important to you, you’ll start to feel welcome.
It’s almost easier to invite new guests into a story than into my home. In Lonecca, I don’t need to tidy up (except for my editors). There’s no need to vacuum or throw steaks on the grill. In a story, I won’t run into the awkwardness of insisting that you don’t wander upstairs and snoop though my sock drawer.

Focused female in casual wear picking dirty clothes from laundry basket while sitting in light room at home during daily housework routine
Back to Lonecca. After decades of being plundered by their king’s greed, Loneccans have lost the resources to provide much in the way of hospitality. Many of them struggle to feed themselves, let alone entertain company. Yet they stubbornly cling to one symbol of welcome: Pledge pots.

 

green leaves on brown plastic container

Imagine arriving at someone’s home. On the step is a pot of herbs. You rub the leaves, then smell their fragrance on your fingers. So good. The experience pledges that your host wants your time there to be equally as inviting. People use different blends of herbs to create their signature scent. On my own step, there’s pineapple sage and mojito mint. Yum-my!

A close-up of a bearded man with eyes closed, enjoying the scent of a potted plant indoors.

I’d love to hear what makes you want to stick around in a fantasy novel. Or a relationship, professional or otherwise. Or a business. Or any environment.

Charming close-up of a rustic welcome sign hanging on a wooden door, creating a warm inviting ambiance.

Ciao for now,
Kai

At the end of the day, I want my readers to enjoy reading this series as much as I've enjoyed writing it.

I'm glad you decided to come for the quest.
I'd be thrilled if you stayed for the journey