H is for History

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

The year is 2600. In the early 2000s, no one is exactly sure when, nuclear winter destroyed the climate and environment. A group of people were able to go underground and survive. Using the stockpiled canned food, they were able to sustain themselves until they were able to set up a community underground. They figured out how to grow plants underground and used a seed bank to gather enough food to sustain the community. During that dark time, records were hard to come by, so exact dates aren’t certain.

Frequent storms and cold weather keep people in their underground tunnels and reinforced buildings. Each building is made up of 20 floors, but about half of them are underground. Not that anyone would know since there are no windows anywhere. It was one of the safety precautions the builders used. Everything is made to be reinforced.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. Below, you can read an excerpt from Chapter 2 from my novel Exploration.

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

The few hours before the Matchmaking Ceremony went fast. I don’t know what I filled the time with, but before I knew it, I was getting on my nice clothes and getting ready to go downstairs. I waited in our common area. Each floor had groups of couches we could hang out in. Later today, we would have a meeting there with everyone on our floor. But right now, the common area was mostly empty.

My room’s door opened practically into our lounge area, and I would walk through there to get to the kitchen or dining room. But I wasn’t hungry anyway.

“Hi, James,” I said when I saw the dark-haired boy sitting on the couch. No, not boy. Young man. Or, just man. Whatever. We were considered year 18s now, not kids. What a difference a day makes, or something.

“Hi, Mara,” he said. Usually, he smiled when he saw me, but he wasn’t smiling now.

“What’s wrong, James?” I asked.

“Do you know what you’re going to pick for your job options?” he asked.

I chuckled. “Um, not really. You?”

“I have no fucking clue.” The language might feel harsh to you, dear reader, but the most offensive curse words lost their impact decades ago. Now the young adults and teenagers like to say them because they’re funny old-timey words.

I sat down next to James and put my hand on his arm. “Worst case,” I said, “pick a job at random, and if you hate it, pick something else.”

He shrugged. “Not a bad idea. I just want to know,” he said, emphasizing the last word.

“I know, James, me too,” I replied. If there was one frustration I had with our community, it was that sometimes we had to wait to make choices.

I wanted to get on with my career and meet my partner NOW, but I couldn’t. I had to go through four years of training and exploration first. Ultimately, I got to make my choices, even though the Matchmakers guided my choice of partner. I could always walk away if I didn’t like the person. Or, more to the point, if we didn’t like each other.

In my city, Zebulon, the Matchmakers would decide who my best match, or matches, were, and we would live together. But there was no marriage like there was at the beginning of the 21st century, 600 years ago. At the end of each year, we were given the choice to stay together or end our relationship. If we ended our relationship, the Matchmakers would try again. But even our matches were chosen based on the information we provided. So ultimately, it was our choice, guided by the experts.

So, today we would give our top two career options, and tomorrow we would start training. I understood James’ concern about making a good choice. But all I could think of was that we now had access to all the exploration rooms. Who would I lose my virginity to? And what would I learn in the viewing rooms.

What is a Matchmaking ceremony?

Who will Mara lose her virginity to?

And what is in those exploration rooms?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back tomorrow to learn more!

G is for Geography

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

Zebulon is broken up into sections, and each one has a number. Zebulon is the main community and within it, there are about 20 residential buildings called Zebulon 1, Zebulon 2, etc. There are an additional 5 buildings that are full of resources: growing centers, childcare centers, manufacturing, food production, technology development, etc. The residential buildings are all based on essentially the same floor plan, so some of them can be repurposed when there are more children in the community.

Underground tunnels connect the buildings within Zebulon. Underground trains connect Zebulon to other communities. The closest community outside Zebulon is an hour trek on a high-speed train. The closest one is called Enfield, and there are others besides that throughout the continent. They only focus on their interconnected communities as the geography has made it impossible to traverse to other continents.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. Below, you can read an excerpt from Chapter 27 from my novel Exploration. This one is actually just before the one posted yesterday!

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

I couldn’t believe Marchand wasn’t going to tell me where we were going. I wanted to know, but at the same time, there was something thrilling about not knowing. Would we go to his room? Was his room just like mine? Would he take me to a room on an Exploration floor? No, he wasn’t supposed to do that. Were we supposed to be doing this? No one had told us we couldn’t see each other, just that we couldn’t have sex with each other off-camera. So what the hell was this?

Marchand guided me out of the building and turned me to the left. When we got to the end of the building, I expected to turn left toward my building, but we kept going straight. Building 15 was looming in front of me. It was just a residential building. Was it his residential building?

He waved to the person at the desk when we entered, and I knew something was up. It was too late in the day for a regular shift at the desk.

We went to the elevator, and he pressed a button. Down and down and down we went. The doors opened up to an empty hallway, cement floors, dim lights. I looked at Marchand, but his face gave nothing away.

He took my hand and led me down hallway after hallway. I would never be able to get out of this place on my own if my life depended on it. And then finally the hallway ended in a door. He knocked on the door, but it wasn’t a regular knock. It had some kind of pattern to it. I wondered if a regular knock would have received the welcome we did.

A tall, red-haired man opened the door. “Welcome,” he said, and he stepped back to let us enter.

“Hey, Pete,” Marchand said.

“Hi, Marchand. Who’s your friend?”

“This is Mara.”

“Hi, Mara, welcome to The Underground.”

What is The Underground?

Who is Pete?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back tomorrow to learn more!

F is for Food

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

The children are, of course, fed in their communities, but once they reach their teen years, they are required to prepare their own food. Starting at age 12, children are taught to cook under strict supervision. At 16, they are given their own communities and a mentor to help them learn to cook. By 18, the mentors have fazed out. Each floor in the building has its own shared kitchen, dining room, and living room, but each person has their own room. These floors are made up of 12 people ages 18-22.

At 22, choices will be made for living arrangements, where people may live with up to three other people. In that case, they will have their own kitchen, but those who choose to live alone have a shared kitchen for food preparation.

Since everything must be grown inside, fresh fruits and vegetables are provided on a rotating basis. So, strawberries are still available, for example, but not all year around. But, of course, there are some staples. Potatoes are always available. Sugar, flour, plant-based meat of various types are always available. Spices are always available, too, since they are dried. Vegetables masquerading as meat is common. They are grown on a rotating basis, but in large enough quantities that they can be available all the time. The food is delivered weekly to each kitchen.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. Below, you can read an excerpt from Chapter 27 from my novel Exploration.

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

“No really, Marchand, what is this place?”

“It’s supposed to be like the dance and sex clubs before the nuclear winter.”

I nodded. Yes, that was what it looked like. Or, what I imagine those places looked like. “How did it form?”

“I don’t know, but no one talks about it. You have to know someone to get in.”

“Yeah, about that,” I said. “I just signed a document that says I won’t tell anyone about this place, but you told me.”

“Once you’ve been here a while, they let you bring friends.”

“Do you come here often?” I asked.

He shrugged, “When I can. I like it. It’s relaxing.”

“Do you dance?”

“Usually,” he said.

I had never danced before. Not in front of people. Music was sometimes a thing, but dancing really wasn’t.

A woman wearing lingerie and carrying a tray approached us. “What can I get you?” she asked.

I looked at Marchand, speechless.

He held up two fingers. “Punch,” he said.

“Sure thing,” she said and walked away.

“What was that?” I hissed.

“A waitress.”

“A what?”

“Waitress. A woman who brings us food and drinks.” I just blinked at him. I had never heard those words before. “Back before, there were restaurants where people made food to order. They would pay money and be given food from waiters and waitresses.”

“Who wants to do those jobs?”

He chuckled, “Apparently some people, since they’re here.”

The woman came back with two drinks. She set them down in front of them on the table and then asked if they wanted anything else. “Maybe in a bit,” Marchand replied. “I have a virgin here,” he winked at her.

“Ah yes,” she said with a smile.

Virgin! I was no virgin!

Wait, is Mara a virgin?

Why aren’t there wait staff?

Where the heck are they!?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back tomorrow to learn more!

E is for Economy

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

Money is a thing of the past for Zebulon. The community supports each other. Everyone works a job that’s suitable for them. Everyone works the same amount of hours and is allowed the same amount of recreation time. There has been a cultural shift that encourages people to work hard without extra compensation for it. Rewards are provided in time off from work or a party thrown in their honor, but there’s no financial compensation.

All amenities are available to all. Movies, games, activities, services are free for all. There are no restaurants, but there are places to get tattoos, jewelry, haircuts, etc. Food is rationed, but everyone has enough. Since food is grown and is synthetic, there isn’t anything super special that would require less or more money. Jewelry is similarly lab-created, so while there is a limit to how often someone may get more jewelry, there aren’t specific limits or precious stones anymore.

Housing and technology are standard across the community.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. Below, you can read an excerpt from Chapter 11 from my novel Exploration.

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

“Hello,” a pleasant woman greeted me. “Is it your first day?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I said automatically.

“Wonderful! Welcome to Zebulon 14.”

I couldn’t help but smile. She was so bubbly. “Thank you.”

“Do you need help finding your location?”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “My letter says Zebulon 14, Floor 10, Room 10.”

“Great,” she said. “The layout is the same as in your building.”

“Thank you.”

I waved my card at the doorway and went to the elevator. The first floor looked different than my building, but as she indicated, the elevator was in the same location. In my building, we had our main meeting room, the gym, and some recreation items (game tables and such), but in this building, it was just a hallway leading right to the elevators with closed doors all down the hall. I wondered what was behind the doors, but I didn’t think asking would be wise.

The elevator whirred up to Floor 10, and the doors opened in front of me. It looked very much like the Exploration Floor. I hadn’t spent enough time there to know for sure, but there was a kitchen right outside the doors, just as in my building. I didn’t see anyone there, though, nor on the beds or couches in the central area. I moved past there and found the door marked 10.

I took a deep breath and knocked on the door. The door opened, and another woman greeted me with a smile. “Hello, you must be Mara.”

“Yes,” I said.

“I’m Nicole. I’m the filmmaker. Come on inside.” I followed her in, shutting the door. “Have a seat,” she said, gesturing to the couches.

There were six small sofas and two large ones. I picked a small one to sit on, and Nicole pulled a chair up so she could sit right in front of me.

“How are you feeling?” she asks.

“I’m okay,” I said.

“Good,” she said. “I’m sure you have tons of questions.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” I giggled nervously.

“I know, this has to be overwhelming, and you just becoming a year 18.”

I nodded. I focused on looking at her. Her incredibly beautiful, dark skin, her dark hair that had a full texture, her incredibly sharp eyes. She was looking at me like she could see inside my soul.

“Well, let’s start with this,” she said, “Let me introduce you to your personal stylists.”

“Personal stylist?”

“Yes. They are going to help you look and feel your best every step of the way.”

“Jean, Joanna, can you come in here?”

Jean? My pod-mate, Jean? It had to be. There were no two people in Zebulon who had the same name.

Is it that Jean? Why is she there?

Why does Mara need a personal stylist?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back tomorrow to learn more!

D is for Death

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

There are retirement communities for those who need more help and can’t live independently anymore, but death happens in the regular communities as well. Bodies are cremated and taken out of the community, should that be the case. Each person may have their own religion or belief system, so there is no specific afterlife. Funerals are similarly individualized, but the community provides the means to carry out the deceased’s wishes. Everyone is required to set up a will and end of life plan at age 25.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. #SpoilerAlert There’s no death in this book, so please enjoy a random excerpt from Chapter 15 of Exploration!

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

The door opened, and the man I had seen in pictures entered the room. He stepped confidently toward me.

“You must be Mara,” he said, and he smiled down at me.

“Hi,” I said, and my voice was light and breathy.

“I’m Marchand,” he said, and his name sounded even sexier on his lips.

He took my hand in his, and I thought he was going to shake it, but instead, he brought it to his lips and kissed it.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” he said.

He was so good at this. And here I was, practically mute. I licked my lips and swallowed, trying to get words to form. “T-thank you,” I finally got out, “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” I echoed his words.

“Would you like to sit down?” He didn’t wait for me to answer but started guiding me to one of the small couches in the room.

We sat down next to each other, and he slipped one arm around my shoulders. “Relax, Mara, I’m not going to hurt you.”

I smiled at him then. He was so easy going, so confident. “I didn’t think you would hurt me, Marchand,” I said almost at a whisper. I liked the way his name sounded from my lips, too. “You have such a beautiful name,” I blurted out.

He grinned, and I couldn’t help but be transfixed, looking at his full lips and perfect teeth. I wanted to know what those lips would feel like on mine. And…other places. “Thank you,” he said. “It was an old, old family name. Back when people had two names, it was a second name. Now it’s given to someone in my family every few generations.”

“I love it,” I said.

His fingers started playing with my braid, and he said, “Thank you,” again. Our eyes locked, and with his warm fingers playing with my hair, I felt a pull bringing us closer together. And then suddenly our lips met, and he was kissing me, his lips firm against mine, his tongue slipping between my lips.

I couldn’t help but compare it to the kisses I had shared with James. James and I had fumbled a lot, bumping noses, uncertain, but comfortable. Marchand was not fumbling. He knew exactly what he was doing, and he was doing it very well. His tongue explored my mouth until I was gasping for breath. His hand stopped playing with my hair and cupped the back of my head, keeping our mouths pressed together. I had to breathe through my nose before I passed out. Was that what I was supposed to do? I didn’t know, but I had no choice.

What picture did she him in?

What do Marchand and Mara do next?

Will this be her first time?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back Monday to learn more!

C is for Clothing

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

Clothing is fairly uniform. Men and women can choose what types of clothes they would like to wear, but they mostly wear skirts, dresses, pants, and t-shirts. Since they never go outside, there’s no reason for outerwear, but sweaters and sweatshirts are available for those who tend to be colder. There are choices of colors, but to a limited degree.

The area where people can have personal expression is in jewelry and tattoos. Necklaces, earrings, and bracelets are popular. Piercings and tattoos are common. Many women have their nipples pierced, but nothing is forced on anyone. Every community has a tattoo parlor and piercing shop, and services are given for free. The best artists work there.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. Below, you can read an excerpt from Chapter 1 from my novel Exploration.

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

Part 1: Meet Mara

Chapter 1: Mara’s Birthday

I stretched as I woke, my sore muscles protesting. I could feel my joints popping as my fingertips brushed against the wall at the head of my bed. I worked my tongue around my mouth. I was parched. Sitting up, I reached for the glass of water I left by my bed. I tried to remember why my alarm wasn’t going off. Usually, I didn’t wake up until the beep-beep-beep told me it was time. But there was no alarm. Was it a day off?

And then I remembered. It was my birthday.

Actually, it wasn’t really my birthday. But it was Matchmaking Day. For most people, it didn’t mean a whole lot, though there would be people moving residences today, and there would be a whole bunch of 22-year-olds who got their matches. But for me, just 18, it meant that I was considered a young adult now. My entire life was about to change. But, at least I didn’t have to move.

I swished the water around my mouth and slid my feet into the slide on shoes I liked to wear. I was wearing a t-shirt and shorts and was perfectly comfortable. I opened the door to the adjoining bathroom. I listened briefly to see if anyone else was in there, but I didn’t hear any noises.

The bathroom I shared with two other people only had one toilet, but it was in a stall, so it didn’t matter if I wandered in when someone else was in there. The shower was a similar setup, with a dressing area outside the shower for convenience. While I was in the bathroom stall, I heard someone else enter.

“Jean?” a voice called.

“No, it’s Mara.”

“Oh,” Carla replied. “Jean left her clothes in the washer. Again.”

I rolled my eyes, even though no one could see it, and then exited the stall. I glanced in the mirror as I washed my hands and saw that my ponytail had held up well to sleep. I smoothed back the flyaway auburn hair with my damp hands and then finished drying them on a towel on the wall.

“Do you need the washer, Carla?” I asked. “I can take Jean’s stuff out.”

“Oh, no, Mara, that’s okay. I’ll take care of it.”

I smiled as Jean banged through her door. Each of our rooms adjoined the bathroom suite through a different door.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jean said as she rushed over to the washer. It was a great machine that washed and dried our clothes, and Jean had a habit of forgetting to get her clothes out of it when they were done.

“Relax, Jean,” I said. “It’s fine.”

She looked at me. “Are you sure, Mara?” I watched her tiny frame as she dug out her clothes. She looked frazzled, her curly red hair a bit of a mess.

“Yes,” I replied.

She looked at Carla.

“It’s fine, Jean,” Carla said, and she smiled. Carla looked very well put together for someone who had just rolled out of bed. But then again, she always did. She must not have moved in her sleep, because her long blonde hair always looked perfect.

Jean, Carla, and I had been pod-mates since our 16th year. We didn’t all have the same birthdays, obviously, but we were broken up into groups by year. In fact, nine other people lived on our floor who were all in the same age group we were. Other than our vastly different hair, we all looked like we could be sisters. We had the same non-exciting brown eyes, perky breasts, and enough curves to be comfortable. Jean was just a head shorter than Carla and me.

Jean quickly took her clothes out and put them in her basket. Carla put her clothes into the machine. “Do you have anything to wash?” she asked me.

“I’m good for now,” I said.

“Are you sure?” Carla asked. “Do you have your nice clothes ready for tonight?”

“Yes, yes,” I said. “I washed mine the last time I wore them.” I stuck my tongue out at Carla, and she laughed. Carla and Jean were both last-minute type people. I liked to have everything organized and precisely in its place. I rarely was running out of laundry and freaking out about it. I certainly always washed my nice clothes every time I wore them.

On an average day, we all wore basically the same thing. We could choose between a skirt, pants, shorts, or a dress, and then we had t-shirts in the short and long-sleeved variety. There were different colors, but that was about it. We never ventured out into the wasteland outside our building, so we did not need jackets or boots, but of course, we had sweaters, sweatshirts, and socks in case we got chilly inside.

But today was not an average day. Today, we were having our Matchmaking ceremony. Today I would be wearing something with an embroidered pattern on it. It wasn’t something we got to wear every day as they took a lot of time to make. Everyone in our building would assemble in our first-floor meeting room, and new couples and groups would be announced. I wouldn’t be getting matched yet. I had a few years before I would find out who my match was going to be. But I had to make the most important decision of my life. I had to pick a career.

I wasn’t locked into it yet, but if I picked well the first time, I would be able to focus my four years of training on that instead of jumping from job to job. But, there was nothing wrong with that either. I also would be given the opportunity to experiment with people of my age.

Experiment with what, you ask?

Sex.

It was very likely that I would lose my virginity in the next 24-hours.

In 24 hours!? How in the world will that happen? And why?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back tomorrow to learn more!

B is for Birth

from Rebekah Loper’s book called The A-Zs of Worldbuilding: Building a Fictional World From Scratch

There was a period of time where there weren’t any births. It was a scary time for Zebulon because they weren’t sure the human race would continue. So, when the first woman was able to carry a baby to full term, there was much rejoicing! Babies are precious to the community, and they embrace all children. Even children who are born with challenges are embraced.

The community raises children together, and some people are responsible for the children’s well being from nutrition to education, but the parents are always allowed to visit their children. The child centers are open for visitation, but children stay with other children so that they learn to socialize and live in groups as they will be expected to forever.

Above you see my description that I wrote based on the extensive questions in The A-Zs of Worldbuilding. Below, you can read an excerpt from Chapter 5 from my novel Exploration.

Remember this (and most) of my posts contain adult content!

I got in front of the microphone, and heard her ask, “Mara, what career would you like to choose?”

I found James’ face in the crowd and focused on him. I couldn’t pick what he had picked. I couldn’t. I was rubbish at food prep. But maybe sewing. I was handy with a needle and thread. We could mentor kids together, maybe. Or no, it didn’t really work that way. Shit.

“Uh,” I said. Lori seemed a bit impatient.

“Mara,” she prompted, her tone a warning.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I would like to be an actress,” I said.

I didn’t even know where that answer came from. I liked watching TV. I liked the old stuff and the new stuff. But I had never joined in much when the other teens did theater. They were all groomed for theater, and here I was, with no clue what I was doing, saying that I wanted to go into theater.

“Okay, Mara,” Lori said. “And your second choice?”

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. I saw James’ face, and he was looking at me. I wondered for the briefest of moments if I should pick a police officer like James had, but instead, I said Emergency Services.” That was pretty close to being a police officer, but it was more focused on transportation.

“Thank you, Mara,” Lori said, and I knew that I was dismissed to go back to my seat.

When I got there, James put his hand on my knee. I was shaking. “Acting and Emergency Services?” he whispered.

I nodded.

“I had no idea you were interested in either of those things.”

“Me neither,” I whispered back.

He squeezed my knee lightly and then placed his hand back on his own lap.

The rest of the ceremony seemed to drag on forever. I had seen the people that were matched up before, but none of them were my friends or family. None of it made an impression. All I could think was how I had made a fool of myself by not being ready to answer the questions on stage. I knew what the questions were going to be. Of course I knew.

But why did they have to ask me in front of everyone anyway? Why couldn’t we just write it down on paper, and they could just tell us at the ceremony? But I knew why. Part of their evaluation was your presentation. If you were comfortable declaring your choice in front of your community, you had a better chance of being successful than if you declared your intention on paper. It was the same reason they matched people in front of the community. You were less likely to break apart your relationship if you knew the whole community was watching you.

Finally, we were released. My parents found me quickly at the end.

“Mara!” my mother said.

“Hi, Mom,” I said.

“I’ll see you upstairs,” James said, and he slipped off. I wanted to grab his hand and pull him back, but I didn’t.

She questioned my career choices, too, but my dad didn’t say anything at least.

“I don’t know why I said it, Mom, I just did.” I was frustrated, but more at myself than at her, and I was trying not to take it out on her. I knew from my community lessons that I needed to direct my anger appropriately. “Mom,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I can’t take it back now, so can we please drop it?”

She sighed and said, “Yes, of course, Mara.” She put her arm around my shoulders. “I am sure you will be brilliant at whatever the Matchmakers choose for you.”

“Thank you, Mom,” I said.

“Are you coming for dinner tonight?” she asked.

I nodded. It was generally expected that families ate together on Matchmaking Day.

“Pretty soon, we’ll be coming to your place for dinner on Matchmaking Day,” she said with a grin.

“Mom,” I said, exasperated, “I have four more years before I get Matched.”

“It will fly by, just watch,” she said.

I rolled my eyes, but I knew she was right. It felt like just yesterday I was getting my year 16 room assignment, and here I was picking my career two whole years later. “Let’s go, Mom,” I said.

Who is James?

What is this ceremony?

Why doesn’t Mara live with her parents?

Find out all that and in Exploration or come back tomorrow to learn more!