Doesn’t that photo of an old Tennessee schoolhouse tickle your imagination?

What was life there like in the 19th century? What did it feel like to walk in thirty-degree weather with a lighter jacket than today, or shoes with the soles barely intact? Or how stifling did that one room become in southern August heat? I can almost smell the burning wood used to fire up the stove in winter or the piney woods that surrounded it in summer.

For me, “place” in a novel is as important as the characters or plot. Something about it needs to resonate with me. More than just background, place must play a role in the story, or at least add depth.

In Rick Iekel’s delightful novel, House with a Heart, the house itself is the protagonist and we see things through its “eyes.” Difficult to do, but Iekel pulled it off.

Place and Genre

With apologies to those terrific sci-fi writers, I’m challenged to relate to their strange planets or civilizations. Likewise, I don’t care who murdered whom in mysteries, nor do I want to figure it out. While I think most mystery fans enjoy the pace and intrigue of a good who-done-it, I’m drawn to its setting and interesting characters buried in the plot.

Put the murder in an English village, or the rugged Maine coast, add a detective with an interesting personality quirk, and I’m hooked. I still don’t care who did it or how, but reading how the protagonist navigated his/her challenges in an interesting setting draws me in.

Don’t care for gothic either, but southern gothic just may do it. And historical novels drip with place!

Love of Place is Relative

I was talking with a neighbor who has a lake-front town home. Most people like lake-front property, and it is beautiful. But where I live, the lake ends in a cove at the edge of my yard. I told him I loved the view from my deck where I could see the back of the homes at the top of the wooded ravine across the way.

He looked puzzled. I told him the view of the backs of those rustic homes made me think of a Normal Rockwell painting. It conjures all sorts of “cozy” for me. I can imagine sinking into well-worn furniture, smell the home-cooked dinner simmering on the stove, feel the Golden Retriever nestled against me, while in my mind, I watch the deer amble about in the woods.

That works for me. The lake works for him. Love of place is relative. I want books to take me where I want to go. Once there, relatable characters weave through town and country, buildings and woods, unique settings—all of which “speak to me.”

How important is “place” to you in a novel? Do you have preferred backgrounds for the books you love?