Writing What You Know Matters
Coral Coast, Fiji
There’s a well-worn piece of advice often given to writers: write what you know.
Writing what you know—especially in terms of location—can make the world of your book feel lived-in, authentic, and textured.
Whether it’s the neighbourhood you grew up in, a favourite vacation destination you return to again and again or somewhere you visited that captured your attention, using familiar places as the backdrop allows for specific details that help ground the reader, giving the story a stronger sense of place.
Authenticity in setting isn’t just about accurate geography or climate—although those matter too. It’s about capturing the rhythms of a place. The change of seasons, the way the light shifts during the day, the values locals hold, the way they talk.
When you’ve walked the streets your characters walk, or stood where your scenes are set, your writing automatically becomes richer and more nuanced. You’re able to include the small, specific details that bring a scene to life. The quiet of a cosy café before the morning rush hits, the recalcitrant door that needs a solid shoulder thump to open, the smell of the earth just after a rainstorm. Details that aren’t pulled from a search engine, but from memory, emotion or experience. Readers can feel that.
Writing what you know allows for emotional depth too. A connection that can subtly infuse the narrative, giving it weight and resonance that a well-researched but unfamiliar setting might lack.
The most powerful settings in fiction are the ones that feel real enough to step into—and that often starts with a writer who’s already been there.
And if you can’t be there in person, you need to do the next best thing: dig deep. Read first-hand accounts. Watch travel vlogs. Study local maps and find forums. Immerse yourself.
Because someone, somewhere, will notice if you don’t. And for those readers—especially the ones who have been there—those little details make all the difference between a story that feels true and one that falls a little flat.