You’ve spent three months building your fantasy world. You have detailed notes on your magic system, a hand-drawn map of three continents, and backstory for every major character.
But when you sit down to write Chapter 1, doubt creeps in. Is your worldbuilding enough? Should you have developed the languages first? What about the economic systems?
Or maybe you’re on the opposite end. You have a protagonist, a cool magic concept, and… not much else.
Every time you try to write, you hit a wall. How does the magic actually work? Where does this scene take place? What’s normal in this world so readers can understand what’s different?
Both situations share the same root problem: you don’t have a measurement system. Without concrete criteria for “enough,” you’re either over-building until you never start writing, or under-building until your story collapses under its own inconsistencies.
This post gives you frameworks to assess your specific story’s worldbuilding needs. Not vague reassurance that “you’ll know when you’re ready,” but actual decision tools based on your story type, genre, and scope.
Topics Covered
The Real Problem: You’re Asking the Wrong Question
When writers ask “how much worldbuilding is enough?”, they’re assuming there’s a single answer. There isn’t.
After you find your worldbuilding idea, the amount of worldbuilding you need depends on at least five variables: story type, subgenre, scope, writer process, and experience level.
An intimate character-driven urban fantasy standalone needs vastly different worldbuilding than an ensemble-cast epic fantasy series.
Most worldbuilding advice treats all fantasy as if it needs Tolkien-level depth. Or it swings the other way and says “just wing it” without acknowledging that some stories genuinely need more structure upfront.
I’ve made both mistakes. My second novel had 80,000 words of worldbuilding notes before I wrote a single scene. I never finished that book because I was hiding in worldbuilding to avoid the vulnerability of actual writing.
My fourth novel, I pantsed completely and hit so many worldbuilding walls mid-draft that revision took longer than writing a new book would have.
The solution isn’t finding a magic number of worldbuilding hours. It’s understanding which variables apply to YOUR story and what each one requires.
In my previous post about where to start worldbuilding, I covered the four basic readiness questions you need to answer before drafting.
Now you’ll go deeper into how different story types change those requirements and gives you measurement points to assess if you’re there with your fantasy worldbuilding.
The Story-Type Reality Check: What Kind of Fantasy Are You Actually Writing?
Before you can assess if you’ve built enough, you need to identify what type of story you’re writing. This matters more than genre.
Fantasy stories fall into three categories based on what drives them: character, plot, or concept. Each requires different worldbuilding intensity and focus.
Character-Driven Stories
Your story is character-driven if the protagonist’s internal transformation is the point. The plot exists to challenge the character. The world provides context for their growth.
Think The Hundred Thousand Kingdoms by N.K. Jemisin or Circe by Madeline Miller. Yes, fascinating worlds exist in both books. But you’re reading to experience Yeine’s or Circe’s emotional journey, not to understand the complete political structure of the world.
What character-driven stories need:
- The protagonist’s immediate environment in detail (where they live, work, spend time)
- Social structures that create their emotional wounds or obstacles
- Cultural norms that shape their internal conflict
- How the world’s “different” element affects them personally
What they can skip:
- Distant political systems that don’t touch the protagonist
- Complete continental geography
- Thousand-year histories
- Complex economic systems
I built an entire parliamentary structure for a character-driven novel about a girl struggling with magic she couldn’t control. Readers never saw that parliament. It didn’t matter. What mattered was how magic marked her as different in her small village and what that did to her relationships.
Red flag you’re over-building: You can describe your world’s political factions in detail but struggle to articulate your protagonist’s deepest fear.
Red flag you’re under-building: Your protagonist’s emotional reactions feel arbitrary because you haven’t established what’s “normal” for them to react against.
Plot-Driven Stories
Your story is plot-driven if external events and conflicts between factions matter most. Characters are vehicles for the plot. The world’s mechanics drive what’s possible.
Think Mistborn or The Lies of Locke Lamora. You’re reading to see how the heist unfolds, how the rebellion succeeds, how the political intrigue plays out. Character growth happens, but plot momentum is the engine.
What plot-driven stories need:
- Political structures and power dynamics (who has power, who wants it, why)
- Geography relevant to the plot (strategic locations, travel distances that matter)
- History that created current conflicts
- Clear rules for how magic/technology affects warfare or conflict resolution
- Resource economics that motivate factions
What they can skip:
- Deep emotional backstories for every character
- Cultural details that don’t affect plot points
- Complete atmospheric world texture
When I wrote a political intrigue story, I spent weeks mapping noble house alliances and resource control. That worldbuilding paid off because every plot twist hinged on who controlled what and why. But I didn’t need to develop the main character’s childhood in detail. The plot worked regardless.
Red flag you’re over-building: You’ve developed extensive cultures and atmospheric details that never create plot complications.
Red flag you’re under-building: Your plot requires characters to make strategic decisions, but you haven’t established the strategic landscape they’re navigating.
Concept-Driven Stories
Your story is concept-driven if it exists to explore a “what if?” premise. The unique worldbuilding element is the point of the book.
Think The Fifth Season by N.K. Jemisin (what if the earth itself fought back?) or The City & The City by China Miéville (what if two cities occupied the same space?). The concept IS the story. Everything else serves to explore that concept’s implications.
What concept-driven stories need:
- Deep development of the core concept
- How the concept affects every level: personal, social, political, environmental
- Internal logic and consistency of the concept (this must be bulletproof)
- Ripple effects throughout the entire society
- Clear rules for how the concept works
What they can skip:
- Actually, not much. Concept-driven stories need the most worldbuilding because shallow exploration of your concept undermines the entire premise.
Red flag you’re over-building: You’re building elements unrelated to your core concept when the concept itself isn’t fully developed yet.
Red flag you’re under-building: You can explain your concept in one sentence but can’t explain how it affects daily life, relationships, AND political structures.
How to Identify Your Story Type
Answer these questions:
- If I removed all worldbuilding elements and set this story in contemporary Earth, would it still work? (If yes: character-driven)
- Does my story hinge on external events, strategic decisions, and faction conflicts? (If yes: plot-driven)
- Is my “what if?” premise the reason this story exists? (If yes: concept-driven)
Most stories blend these types, but one usually dominates. Identify your dominant type, then match your worldbuilding intensity to it.
For more in-depth questions to identify your story type and to start your worldbuilding, don’t miss out on my 55 worldbuilding questions list.
The Subgenre and Scope Multipliers
Story type gives you the foundation. Subgenre and scope multiply or reduce those requirements.
The Subgenre Spectrum
Fantasy subgenres exist on a spectrum from least to most worldbuilding required, and understanding where yours falls prevents both over-building and under-building.
Urban fantasy sits at the low end because you’re building on the real world. You add magical elements to existing geography, culture, and systems. Readers already know the baseline, so you’re developing the supernatural overlay, not inventing a planet from scratch.
Epic and high fantasy anchor the opposite end. You’re building everything: geography, cultures, political systems, histories, magic rules. Readers choose epic fantasy specifically for that deep worldbuilding, so thin worlds disappoint.
Portal fantasy occupies the middle ground with a unique challenge: two worlds to develop. You need a real-world baseline (usually quick) and a magical world (extensive), plus the mechanics of how travel between them works.
Cozy fantasy has lower worldbuilding needs than its epic cousins but focuses that building differently. You need strong atmosphere and sense of place over complex systems. The coffee shop or inn where your story unfolds matters more than continental politics.
Time investment reflects this spectrum. Urban fantasy might need weeks to a few months of worldbuilding.
Epic fantasy can require months to over a year. Cozy fantasy needs less time but demands different attention.
[Epic, Urban, or Portal? What to Worldbuild Based on Your Fantasy Subgenre] breaks down exactly what to build and what to skip for each subgenre, including historical fantasy, romantasy, and grimdark. That post gives you subgenre-specific checklists. This post gives you the frameworks to measure whether what you’ve built is enough.
The Scope Reality Check
Scope multiplies your subgenre baseline.
Standalone: Build to the Edges
You only need worldbuilding that serves this one story. You can leave mysteries. You don’t need to plan for sequels that may never exist.
What this means:
- Build locations protagonist visits (not entire continents)
- Build cultures protagonist interacts with (not all cultures)
- Build history that drives this plot (not thousand-year timelines)
- Build magic rules relevant to this conflict (not complete systems)
Trilogy: Plan the Arc, Discover the Details
You need to know your three-book story arc and what worldbuilding elements become relevant in Books 2-3. But you don’t need every detail before Book 1.
What you must know before Book 1:
- How your world will evolve across three books
- Major worldbuilding elements that appear in later books (seed them in Book 1)
- Consistent rules that won’t change
- Your Book 3 endpoint
What you can discover while writing:
- Specific details of Books 2-3 plots
- Secondary locations
- Minor character backstories
- Cultural details that emerge as needed
I’ve seen writers spend two years worldbuilding for Book 1 of a trilogy, trying to have every detail of all three books figured out. That’s over-building. You need the arc and the foundation. The details can develop.
Ongoing Series: Build for Sustainability
Open-ended series need the most careful worldbuilding because you’re committing to consistency across many books.
What you need upfront:
- Core rules that won’t change (magic systems, world physics)
- Room for growth (new locations, conflicts, characters can be introduced)
- Documentation system (you’ll forget details by Book 5)
- Flexibility (rigid worldbuilding kills series)
Red flag: You’ve built so completely there’s nowhere new to go.
How POV Count Changes Requirements
Single POV means you build what that character experiences. Ensemble cast means you build a coherent world that works across multiple perspectives.
Single POV: Lower worldbuilding needs. You can stay in protagonist’s head and knowledge level.
Multiple POV (3-5): Medium-high needs. Different perspectives must be consistent with each other.
Ensemble (6+): Highest needs. You need very solid foundation to prevent contradictions.
The Over-Builder vs Under-Builder Diagnostic
Most writers struggle with one problem or the other. The solutions are different for each.
Signs You’re an Over-Builder
You might be over-building if:
- You’ve been worldbuilding for six months or more without writing a scene
- Your worldbuilding notes exceed 50,000 words
- You keep finding “just one more thing” to figure out before starting
- You’re researching details that won’t affect your plot (medieval wagon wheel sizes for fantasy)
- You can describe your political factions in detail but haven’t written your protagonist’s voice
- You feel excited about worldbuilding but dread actually writing the story
- Your deadline for “ready to start” keeps moving
The hard truth: Worldbuilding is easier and safer than writing. Building your world is creating content without vulnerability. Writing your story means putting your actual writing on the line.
I spent nine months building my second novel’s world. I told myself I was “being thorough.” Really, I was hiding. The worldbuilding felt productive while avoiding the hard work of storytelling.
If this is you:
- Set a worldbuilding end date (two weeks from now maximum)
- Write Chapter 1 on that end date no matter what
- Accept that gaps exist and revision fixes inconsistencies
- Reframe worldbuilding as research: it’s done, not doing
- Remember that 90% of what you built won’t appear in the book (that’s normal, not waste)
Signs You’re an Under-Builder
You might be under-building if:
- You hit walls every few pages where you need to figure out how something works
- Your world feels generic or interchangeable with any fantasy setting
- Beta readers say “I couldn’t picture the world” or “how does the magic work?”
- You describe settings vaguely to avoid committing to details
- Your characters act inconsistently with their culture because you haven’t defined that culture
- Plot solutions feel like deus ex machina because you haven’t established world mechanics
- You wish you’d built more before starting but now feel locked into what you wrote
The reality: Some planning prevents massive revision. Discovery writing still needs a foundation. You can’t build a house mid-air.
If this is you:
- Pause drafting for two weeks
- Use that time to address specific gaps (follow your writing’s questions)
- Build only what you’ve hit walls on (don’t over-correct into over-building)
- Resume writing with strengthened foundation
- Keep a worldbuilding document running parallel to your draft
The Goldilocks Zone: Signs You’re Just Right
You’re in the goldilocks zone if:
- Writing flows without constant stops
- You hit occasional questions but not every page
- World feels present without overshadowing story
- Revision will need normal consistency tweaks (not massive overhaul)
- You feel excited about both world and story
- You’re making progress on actual draft
If you’re here: keep writing. Don’t second-guess yourself. Minor inconsistencies are normal and fixable.
The Readiness Rubric: A Multi-Dimensional Assessment Framework
This is the framework I use to assess whether a world is ready for drafting. It works across different story types because you adjust the target scores based on your story’s needs.
The Five Essential Dimensions
Score yourself 1-5 on each dimension:
1. Setting & Place
- 1: No sense of where story takes place
- 3: Protagonist’s immediate environment clear, can describe 2-3 key locations
- 5: Complete world geography mapped and detailed
2. Social Structures & Power
- 1: No understanding of how society works
- 3: Protagonist’s place in society clear, relevant power structures established
- 5: Complete political systems, all social layers detailed
3. Rules & Systems (Magic, technology, physics)
- 1: No consistent rules, characters can do whatever plot needs
- 3: Core rules established with limitations, gaps okay
- 5: Complete system fully documented, Sanderson-level detail
4. History & Context
- 1: No backstory
- 3: Recent history that drives plot known, inciting incident’s cause clear
- 5: Complete timeline, all historical periods detailed
5. Cultural Texture (Daily life, customs, beliefs)
- 1: No cultural details
- 3: Main culture’s basics established, enough texture to feel distinct
- 5: Anthropological depth, every aspect detailed
Interpreting Your Score
Total Score: 5-10 (Underdeveloped) You’ll hit walls immediately when writing. Build at least to 15 before starting.
Total Score: 11-15 (Goldilocks Zone for Most Stories) This is minimum viable worldbuilding. You can write without constant stops. You’ll discover more while writing. Inconsistencies will be fixable in revision.
This is where most writers should start.
Total Score: 16-20 (Solid Foundation) More than adequate. Good for plotters or series. Risk: might be over-building. Start writing within two weeks or you’re procrastinating.
Total Score: 21-25 (Possible Over-Building) Unless you’re writing concept-driven epic fantasy series: too much. Stop building. Start writing now. You’re ready.
By the way, if you’re looking for epic fantasy married with Sci-Fi story ideas, then don’t forget to check out our prompts.
Adjusting Targets by Story Type
Your target score varies:
Character-driven story: Target 13-16 Plot-driven story: Target 16-18
Concept-driven story: Target 19-21
Urban fantasy: Target 11-14 Epic fantasy: Target 17-20
Standalone: Target 13-16 Trilogy: Target 16-18 Ongoing series: Target 18-20
Find where your story lands and aim for that range. You don’t need perfect 5s across all dimensions unless writing concept-driven epic fantasy series.
I’ve created a Worldbuilding Readiness Rubric worksheet that walks you through scoring each dimension, shows you visual gaps in a radar chart, and gives you specific next steps based on your total score. It includes customization guidance for different story types so you’re not comparing your cozy fantasy standalone to epic fantasy series requirements.
What Published Authors Actually Do
Real authors vary wildly in their worldbuilding approaches. All of them succeed. This validates that multiple paths work.
Brandon Sanderson: The Heavy Plotter
Sanderson’s worldbuilding varies dramatically by project:
- Mistborn: About one year of worldbuilding and planning before drafting
- The Stormlight Archive: Years of worldbuilding (most extensive of his career)
- Some standalone projects: Just a few months
His quote: “I try to focus my energies on areas of worldbuilding important to the conflict and the characters.”
Even Sanderson, known for extensive worldbuilding, doesn’t spend years on every book. He matches investment to project scope.
N.K. Jemisin: The Character-First Builder
Jemisin’s process starts with character, not world:
“Ultimately, for me, I’m a character-focused writer. The worldbuilding is something that interests me, of course, but the thing that makes it start for me is having a character. The worldbuilding informs the characters.”
For The Fifth Season, she started with an image (woman with floating mountain), then asked what kind of world requires that magic. She builds while writing, uses test chapters to discover what works, and fixes a lot in revision.
Her advice: “Starting with too much is an easier edit” than having too little.
Holly Lisle: The Minimalist Professional
Lisle learned minimalist worldbuilding through deadline pressure:
“After years of dealing with deadlines and the cold reality that money doesn’t come in until the work goes out, I’ve learned to do a minimalist version of worldbuilding that still doesn’t skip on the essentials.”
Her approach:
- Build detailed work for main characters only
- Imply the rest
- Create the illusion of depth
Her advice: “Don’t create all the languages, don’t name all the streets, don’t fill in all of the map. Do detailed work on whatever you’re going to use for your main characters, and imply the rest.”
She uses the George Lucas example: he built one street of Mos Eisley, not the whole city. But that one street had enough detail to create the flavor of the location.
What This Means for You
Notice the range:
- Sanderson: months to years depending on project
- Jemisin: character-first discovery while writing
- Lisle: minimalist efficiency
All three are successful, award-winning fantasy authors. All three use completely different worldbuilding processes.
You don’t need to match Sanderson’s years of prep. You don’t need to adopt Jemisin’s character-first method. You don’t need to be as minimal as Lisle.
Find what works for your story type, your process, and your timeline. The frameworks in this post help you make that assessment for your specific situation.
Your Next Steps: Finding Your Goldilocks Zone
Here’s what to do right now:
1. Identify your story type. Character-driven, plot-driven, or concept-driven? This determines your baseline worldbuilding needs.
2. Score yourself on the five dimensions. Use the Readiness Rubric to see where you actually are (not where you feel you are).
3. Adjust your target based on your story variables. Epic fantasy series needs different scoring than urban fantasy standalone.
4. If you’re under-target: Build specifically. Don’t build everything. Build your weakest dimension to reach target.
5. If you’re at or above target: Start writing this week. Set a specific date. Write Chapter 1 on that date no matter what.
The four questions I covered in my worldbuilding guide give you a basic readiness check. The frameworks here show you how those questions change based on your story type and how to measure your current worldbuilding against what you actually need.
If you’re deep in worldbuilder’s disease and can’t stop building, my next post You Don’t Need to Finish Your World to Start Your Novel addresses that specific psychological trap in depth.
Your goldilocks zone isn’t a single number. It’s a range that shifts based on what you’re writing and who you are as a writer. But now you have frameworks to find your range instead of guessing in the dark.
Build enough to write without constant walls. Don’t build so much you never start. And remember: revision exists to fix the inconsistencies. Perfection isn’t required. Progress is.