Let me explain.
My mother espoused a much more common version of this atypical mantra when I was growing up. I’d become frustrated by a project, and she would counsel me to “take a break.” (Not to quit—I have a fantastic mom.) Obligingly, I would work on something else for a while and return to the vexing chore with a refreshed perspective (or so was the intention). Her method usually got me over the hump… or taught me my limitations.
Until recently, I believed—with little evidence to the contrary—that cartography was beyond my capabilities. And in general, I am not wrong about that.
But when things fell through with the artist I’d commissioned to turn this outline into a cartographic masterpiece, I needed a fallback plan. And who is always there to fall back on… besides my mother… and father… and family and friends? (Yes, okay, I’m very fortunate!)
Me. Because this is my problem, and it’s my responsibility to fix it. (Hear the tantrum? Time to take a break….)
After scowling for a bit (a cathartic part of my ritual, thank you), I re-examined an online cartography program discovered by my publishing adviser, Robin Praytor. (She also saves my butt on the regular.) For a mere $25, I could make maps until they came out of my ears—I could make maps OF my ears! The sky was the limit.
Well, I was the limit. It was up to me to push past my authorial comfort zone (if there is such a thing) and become *insert a flourish of trumpets here* The Cartographer.
I tried.
And I made a sand-colored blob on a blueish background.
So, I took a break… and watched online tutorials to learn how to make my map less blobby and more mappy. Oh, yes. Mappy. Because that’s what you get when you put a desperate double-English major with little artistic talent on realm-map duty: you get “mappy.”
And then, you get creative. (What choice do you have?)
I started with a color retouch.
Then, I moved on to mountains because you can’t build castles on those, and this is about helping readers understand the lay of the land.
There are forests in my story, and some of them have specific locations, like around major structures. So, I situated the castles and started layering in trees…
…and kinda hated them. Although I followed an excellent example, I think I did a poor job of executing my forests. The trees seemed too concentrated at the edges—as if every forest in D’Erenelle were a shapely nature preserve that remained after a great, manual deforestation. But when I added thinner patches of trees around the edges of my congested groves, it just looked like green dandruff. Sonofa…!
On the bright side, this program allows you to select and manipulate distinct features alone or in groups, so I should be able to weed out (pun!) the ones I like or kibosh them altogether without losing other components. (It almost sounds like I know what I’m talking about, doesn’t it?)
(I don’t.)
I needed a break from the trees. Edrugress (the demon of editing during writing) was lurking, and I did not want to get trapped in a digital woodland of personal inadequacy. Shoo, Edrugress! This isn’t even your field of critique!
Instead, I put in all the labels, just so I could see what a finished product might resemble! Take that, Eddie!
It’s probably not the $500 map I was going to commission, but I think I can make this work. What’s more, it’ll be printed in the book in black and white (can’t be helped), so some details will soften. That just means I have to work on contrast and features (read: trees).
Thank the realm this is just a first draft. What do you think needs the most work? Is something missing? Could I execute anything more artfully (*cough* trees *cough*)? Please join the discussion here or on Facebook or Twitter. Honestly, I need all the help I can get!
A huge thank-you in advance.
-H.A.
Have you tried your hand at map-making? You can commiserate on that process here, too. The support group meets on Thursdays….
