Clean up your info-dumps!
World-building isn’t easy to do. You’ve got so many details to share about your characters and how their world works! So sometimes it happens: the dreaded info-dump.
Info-dumps are just what they sound like: a big blob of information dumped onto the page for the reader to ingest without any context. Sure, the reader might really need to digest that information. But give it to them in one big, giant paragraph and they might choke on it.
Here’s an example of a infodump. Notice how it tells us all about the main character’s backstory, but nothing about her present emotional state or her desires.
No one knew who left Druella at Rockytop Keep as a baby, but it became the only home she had ever known. The Overlord took pity on her, and the Keep’s servants raised Druella to become one of their own. It was hard, back-breaking work that often meant she only got a few hours of sleep after working twelve to fifteen hours a day. Because her origin was a mystery, some servants called Druella a bastard, child of a harlot. Other servants ignored her, but the greenhouse keeper, Everick, often treated Druella as if she were his daughter.
We have four basic facts here:
Druella is an orphan at Rockytop Keep and lives there as a servant
It’s a hard job with long hours and she has little time to sleep
Because no one knows her origins, others look down on her or ignore her
She has a surrogate father in the greenhouse keeper, Everick
Consider the difference when you integrate these facts about Druella with her thoughts, emotions, and desires. They wouldn’t come all in a bunch as they are now, but instead would be scattered in among the story:
Druella awoke to the clanking of cowbells. The rhythmic knocking was followed by the urgent moos of milkcows, desperate to relieve their swollen udders. Druella groaned at the sound, for she’d barely snatched a few hours’ sleep after working fifteen hours yesterday. (2)
The day’s chores wouldn’t wait—nor would the cows! Druella dressed, shivering at the chill that seeped through the cracks of the barn. Still, she treasured her small pallet above the hayloft—it gave her more privacy and security than many orphans get. Being a servant at Rockytop Keep might have been hard work, but it kept her belly full. (1)
[An inciting incident happens—a ghost leads Druella to a diary that hints she has royal origins.] Druella swept her fingers across the faded ink, reassuring herself the ghost had really visited. Could it really be possible her parents were royal? Awful Isolyn always called Druella a harlot’s bastard—or worse! (3; and look, we’ve also introduced an antagonist!)
[Druella does her chores and heads to Everick’s greenhouse to collect food for the kitchens.] Druella put the strawberries into her apron and gave him a hug. She had always wondered what it would feel like to have a family, and Everick’s embrace came close to what she imagined. But if the diary told true, she had real relatives somewhere… (4)
Each of these examples does two things: it connects information about the world to a present-day action or character, and each example includes an emotion or thought from the MC. And because it’s interspersed amongst the action of the story, it feels more like a natural expansion of what’s happening, rather than a big glob of information. When you do this, it’s not the author telling the reader about the world—it’s the reader sharing a vision of the world as the main character sees it.
So next time you’re revising, and you come across a big block of information—or your critique partner’s comment of “infodump!”—you know what to do. Break it up. And give it context by connecting it to your character. And you’ll be inviting your reader to experience the world along with your protagonist.
Diane loves talking world-building, especially when it involves sci-fi or fantasy settings! Find more about her editing services here.