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Setting is one of the strangest elements of writing. If a writer isn’t under-using it, you can bet they are probably overusing it. In my early days of scribbling I would often veer wildly from one extreme to the next, either saturating the page with a descriptive setting or not including it at all.

Consider these two examples from one of my first short stories.

He walked to the bus stop.

I wrestled with this sentence for a long time, rereading it over and over until I finally concluded it needed to paint a better picture in the reader’s mind.

As he walked to the bus stop he noticed that it had rained the night before. The grass was shiny and it glistened in the morning sun. On the far side of the park the trees were stripped bare of leaves and only bony branches were exposed. The estate was quiet, not a sinner moved since it was a Sunday. He could hear a car or two drive along the motorway beyond.

This version depicts a definite sense of place. A picture comes into focus and the reader can deduce many details.

* It’s morning.

* The story is set in winter.

* The man is walking in a housing estate that is next to a park.

This paragraph made the final cut and, even today, I’m kind of proud of the descriptive, albeit clumsy, sentences. That said, if I were to do the whole thing again I would delete that whole paragraph and go back to the first sentence.

Before including any descriptive passage the writer needs to ask himself/herself one question: What purpose does it serve? If the only reason for the inclusion is to display fancy writing skills it should be removed immediately. The reader’s attention is valuable and finite and it shouldn’t be wasted. In my case, the story I was writing was about an office conflict so a descriptive street scene on his way to work made very little sense.

There are, however, perfectly legitimate reasons to describe a setting in detail. In a horror story, for example, it may be necessary to depict a creaking step or a darkened basement in order to provide an eery atmosphere or give a sense of mystery.

There are also times when setting can play a pivotal role in the plot and can behave more like a character than a location. Consider our protagonist visiting a forest. If he or she is enjoying the walk it might be important to include one or two lines of description. If our character gets lost, however, all details are now important. The writer will need to depict the disorientation caused by the endless sea of trees. The strange noises. The fading light behind the canopy of branches. The forest is now not just a location, it has become an antagonist, an obstacle the character must overcome.

In the past I wrote a story about a character being suffocated by his small home town. He was conflicted by the place. It was a place he loved but he had to leave as he saw it as a small-minded town with gossip and petty vendettas. Now the location was now behaving more like a ex-lover than a place, and provided motivation for the characters arc.

Finally, setting can be used as an extension of the main character’s personality. Describing our character Tom’s room as a place with clothes scattered on the floor and a desk littered with stained coffee cups is a much more visceral and memorable method of saying he was untidy. In the same way we could describe his room as clinically clean, all clothes hanging neatly in the closet and readers can form another different opinion about his personality. But all this needs to be consistent. His personal setting needs to match his characteristic traits.

The way in which a character behaves and reacts in a setting may also be telling.

Tom flung his arms from side to side and kicked his legs to the music.

If Tom is in a nightclub at 1am we might see a man enjoying life. But if Tom is in the middle of an office or on the street we might look at him a little differently. We could be in the presence of a man in crisis.

Whatever way you choose to use setting in your story it must be sparse and tight, and it should be embedded seamlessly into the story.

Someone is waiting for a train. They have a suitcase that contains an object they wish to conceal. Imagine for a moment you are this character – put yourself in their shoes and ask yourself the following questions, then write the answers down in your writer’s notebook: 

1. What’s your name?
2. What do you do for a living?
3. Where do you live?
4. Do you have a family? If so, who are they?
5. Etc etc

Now you know ten things about your character. Write a short paragraph about the character based on the details you’ve created for them. Don’t write a description of them, instead use the details to create the beginning of a story. For example, if your character is wearing a heavy coat (Detail 7) and the day is warm, they might feel uncomfortable but be afraid to take it off because they are ashamed of their clothing because they are homeless (Detail 3).

Waiting For The Train

The 2:12 from Brighton. The 2:13 from Colchester. The 2:15 from Kidderminster. They had all come and gone. He watched the passengers unload, shuffle through the turnstiles and go on their merry way. No stragglers. No suspicious looking loiters.

He had the name McCarthy or McGowan scribbled on a piece of paper. They had never met but he found himself staring at the more bedraggled members of the crowd. He couldn’t help it. He had packed the suitcase personally so he knew exactly what was inside.

“What are you fucking looking at?”

Terry turned away. His eyes had lingered on the man with the limp for too long. That’s all he needed, beaten up in the middle of the station and have the contents of the suitcase spill on to the ground for all to see.

“Why do I have to deliver this to a train station?” he had asked his boss, earlier in the day “Why can’t we put it in a box and ship it like normal?”

“You’ve a lot to learn, Terry,” his boss had answered. “Some clients require discretion. They don’t want a package arriving at their house where their wife or parents can find it.”

The two weeks working in “Come and Get it” were an real eyeopener. He was learning all the time, sometimes too much. From 8am to 5pm he was surrounded by dolls, dildos and scented lubrication. The place made him realize he had lived a sheltered existence. Never in his wildest imagination would he have guessed that butt plugs came in so many shapes and sizes.

Business was booming. The accessories were flying our the door. But he could take no joy from the success. None of his family or friends knew where he worked. He had tried to tell them but the words paint factory came out of his mouth instead. Now he has to have detailed conversations with his father about emulsions and colour shadings.

Another crowd spilled on to the platform. This time it was the 2:18 from Birmingham. Passengers flocked towards the turnstiles and Terry moved closer against the wall with the suitcase. The contents rattled about inside. The simulation 1000, the prostate massager and complementary lube. The Dirty Weekend for One bundle. 

He threw intermittent glances at the crowd, looking for likely contenders. He just wanted this over and done with now.

Then, as he scanned the faces he noticed someone familiar amongst the strangers.

He turned away but it was too late.

“Terry. Is that you?”

There was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide.

“Hey there,” Terry said.

He rested his eyes on the man but he couldn’t figure out who it was.

“I had heard you came to the city,” he said.

He knew this man but he just couldn’t place the face.

“Your mother tells me you’re working in a paint factory. Good for you.”

It was then the stubborn penny finally dislodged itself and fell into the slot. He was the shopkeeper from his parents’ estate.

“Did you come in on the train? We could’ve had a cup of tea together.”

Terry picked the suitcase from the ground. “Sorry I’m in a bit of a hurry,” he said. “Got to get back and... mix those paints.”

“Lovely to see you Terry,” the man said.

“Nice to see you too, Mr. McGinty.”