When I write, I often pull from my own experiences—not copying them exactly, but reshaping them to fit my story’s needs. It helps me ground my characters and their emotions in something real. But sometimes, that’s not possible. Maybe a character’s background is nothing like mine, or I’m describing a place I’ve never seen. In those moments, I have to ask myself—how do I keep going? How do I write something authentic when I have no personal experience to draw from?
Before anything else, my imagination is my most important tool. It’s where my stories begin—the endless ‘what ifs’ that spark new ideas. I constantly ask myself: Where do I want to go with this story? What do I want to get out of it? How does it all come together in the end? These questions run rampant in my mind during brainstorming sessions, and I’ve learned to trust that process.
Whenever an idea pops up—no matter how big or small—I make sure to write it down before it slips away. Over time, I gather pages filled with random concepts, character arcs, and plot twists. Then comes my favorite part: connecting the dots. I’m a firm believer that ideas come for a reason, even if they don’t make sense at first. It’s like solving a puzzle—finding a way to weave them all together into something meaningful.
Let me share a real-life example of how I put this into practice while working on my Beyond Shattered Bonds series. Early on, I was thinking about the plot and worldbuilding, and my initial idea was pretty standard—animals would play supporting roles, much like in many other fantasy books, serving as companions or symbolic creatures. It was simple, familiar, and safe.
But then, during one of those brainstorming moments when ideas just spiral in your head, I thought—what if I made the animals more central to the story? What if they weren’t just background characters, but something far more evolved? I wanted my world to feel unique, so I ran with that spark. Eventually, the concept of evolved animals—creatures that played significant, even dominant roles in the world’s power structures—took shape.
This shift completely changed the dynamics of the story and made the world feel more original. It’s a perfect example of why I believe in holding onto initial ideas, even if they seem simple at first. They often serve as the seed for something much bigger and better when you let your imagination take over.
Of course, it’s not all imagination. After I’ve spent time brainstorming and reflecting on my ideas, I make sure to do some research. Even though writing—especially in the fantasy genre—gives you the freedom to create your own rules, I still want my world to feel grounded enough that readers stay connected. I want them to believe in the world I’m building, even if it’s filled with magic and evolved creatures.
One of my biggest fears as a writer is pouring my heart and soul into a story, only for someone to disconnect from it completely because something didn’t make sense. I’ve been there as a reader—fully invested in a story until something feels off, whether it’s a plot hole, inconsistent logic, or worldbuilding that doesn’t add up. When that happens, I find myself zoning out, losing that emotional connection, and sometimes even putting the book down for good.
That’s why research is so important to me. Whether it’s understanding natural ecosystems to create believable fantasy climates or studying emotional responses to write authentic character arcs, I want my story to feel as real as possible within its own world. It’s all about finding that balance between creativity and coherence—making sure the fantastical still feels tangible.
Let me give you another real-life example to put this into perspective. When I was finalizing my characters in Beyond Shattered Bonds, I wanted each of them to come from a different climate, with their environment shaping who they are. But here’s the thing—I’ve only lived in The Netherlands, America, and the Czech Republic, so I don’t have firsthand, day-to-day experience of life in places like Asia or Africa.
With the specific animals I envisioned for each climate, I knew I had to do my homework. Even though my ideas sounded great in my head, I wanted to be absolutely sure they made sense within the world I was building. So, I dove into research—looking into habitats, animal behaviors, and how they might realistically interact with the environments I was designing.
And I’m glad I did. Turns out, some of the animals I had originally chosen didn’t quite fit as perfectly as I thought. A few tweaks here and there, and everything started to align more naturally. Which animals did I have to change? Well, that might be a fun story to share when Beyond Shattered Bonds becomes a success in the future.
Writing about something you’re not familiar with can definitely be a challenge, but I believe that if you follow these two steps—trusting your imagination and doing your research—you can make anything happen. Don’t be afraid to experiment and try new things, even if they feel outside your comfort zone. Sometimes, those risks lead to your biggest successes.
And even if it doesn’t work out exactly as you hoped, you’ll still have learned something valuable—about your story, your process, and most importantly, yourself. And in the end, that’s never a bad thing.