Building a Dystopian World: The Origins of Sandric and Without Light

Every writer’s journey to creating a fictional world is different, but mine started with a simple, friendly challenge. My best friend Jena and I, both literary geeks with an insatiable love for fantasy, Game of Thrones, Fortnite, and all things unrealistic and whimsical, decided to give ourselves a writing prompt: create a world we’d build books around. It wasn’t just a casual idea—it was a full-blown creative exercise, a way for us to dive into the realms of our imaginations and see what we could come up with.

As soon as we set the task, I started building the world of Sandric. There was something exhilarating about taking a blank page and filling it with possibilities. I’ve always been enamored by those intricate maps you find at the beginning of fantasy books, the ones that invite you to trace your finger over mountains, forests, and mysterious lands before you even start reading. I knew from the outset that I wanted to write something that would one day include a map like that—a world so rich and detailed that readers would want to explore every corner.

So, I began drawing. With no real plan in place, I sketched out what would eventually become the territories of Sandric. I wish I could tell you there was some magical formula behind it, that the ideas flowed effortlessly and each territory appeared in my mind fully formed, but the truth is, it was more of a puzzle—a composition of strengths and weaknesses, of contrasting landscapes and cultures that, together, made sense as a whole. It was like crafting a patchwork quilt, each piece needing to complement the next while still holding its own unique identity.

Once the map was in place, the government system naturally followed. I began to think about how these territories would interact with one another, what tensions might exist, and how power would be distributed. Who would lead, who would follow, and what kind of world would emerge from this structure? The more I fleshed out these ideas, the more the story began to take shape. Sandric wasn’t just a backdrop—it was a living, breathing entity that influenced the characters and their choices.

From there, the story of Without Light built itself, brick by brick. The Trials, the psychological manipulations, the representatives vying for leadership—all of these elements grew organically out of the world I had created. The dystopian nature of Sandric allowed me to explore themes of control, power, and rebellion in a way that felt both terrifying and real.

Looking back, it’s funny to think that it all started with a simple writing prompt and a map doodled on a piece of paper. But that’s the beauty of creating a world from scratch—what starts as a small idea can grow into something vast and complex, something that takes on a life of its own. And in the end, that’s what writing is all about—taking the whimsy and wonder of your imagination and turning it into a world that readers can lose themselves in.

So here’s to Jena, to our love of all things unrealistic, and to the worlds we create, one map at a time. If you’re curious to see how Sandric unfolds, stay tuned—Without Light is just the beginning.

— Megan A. Rockwell