Culturally, we put a lot of emphasis and value on originality. An undue emphasis, as far as I can tell. I believe art (and yes, worldbuilding is art) is founded more on sharing and mixing and reinventing than it is on truly novel ideas. I think we should embrace that.
For context: this follows directly from last week’s post on worldbuilding. Last week I mentioned stealing inspiration and using pieces of other stories, but I focused on embracing inconsistency. I should have also referenced my old post about leaving blank spaces. This week we’ll focus on the stealing, sampling, and paying homage side of things.
Taking ideas, themes, metaphors—even characters and plotlines—from elsewhere is how art works. It’s been this way for a long time, at least since Virgil’s work in ancient Rome; The Aeneid is basically a fanfic continuation of The Iliad. We dress up this taking with pretty words, often calling it inspiration or homage (or sampling). Done poorly, this taking smacks of plagiarism and theft. Done well, we create new and exciting art that builds on the foundations laid by artists who’ve gone before us.
Nota bene: there are legal complications to be aware of if you want to publish and sell your art. As long as you aren’t planning to sell your worldbuilding work you can probably set aside those concerns (disclaimer: I’m not a lawyer, this is not legal advice).
If you’re just telling stories for yourself and your friends, borrow, steal, and reuse whatever you want from any place you want. There are two things that I’d recommend if you want to avoid being an ass: first, be aware of the consequences of your choices (everything comes with baggage); second, be upfront about what you’re drawing on (cite your sources). Beyond that, have at it.
Knowing what you’re referencing, and knowing the implications of whatever you’re drawing on, is helpful. There are plenty of cool stories out there, and you can draw on however much of them you like—but I recommend giving those stories a little critical thought before you pull big chunks of other people’s work into your own story world. For example, if you wanted to create a cosmic horror setting and thus reached for Lovecraft’s work, you should carefully consider which parts of his stories you’re drawing on. Lovecraft wove many of his reprehensible opinions about women and race and miscegenation into his work, and it’s worth paying close attention to what you’re adding to the foundation of your own story world.
Giving credit where it’s due helps to both establish a penumbra of setting ideas, and to set a particular tone. It’s a shortcut; saying “urban industrial grit and grime, like Birmingham in Peaky Blinders” conveys a broad swathe of meaning that you’d need to spend much longer describing if your audience doesn’t share the reference. It also gives your players an in, if they know what you’re talking about.
Personally, I like drawing on inspirations with my players’ knowledge. If they know where I’m pulling some of my ideas from, they can add details that I forgot, and they’ll understand the background and palette I’m drawing from. I can keep the homages as vague and general as I like, while still giving the players a shortcut to understanding the tone I want to set. Roleplaying games feel unique to me in the way in which they allow a shared exploration of the story world and the characters. If my players know what I’m drawing from, and they can suggest their own details, the collaborative world can grow richer than I could make it on my own.
You also don’t have to tell players where you’re drawing inspiration from upfront. If your story would benefit from the tension of uncertainty and surprise, withhold that information! You can share your source material after the relevant revelations have occurred.
Not every inspiration needs to be loud and overt. I find it easiest to strip away identifying details and make the inspirational material my own by focusing on dynamics, narrative structures, plot elements, and setting details rather than identifiable specifics—for example, I’d use the concept of a playboy vigilante rather than using Batman or Iron Man. That focus on abstracted elements and dynamics can free you from otherwise difficult story constraints (like the need to merge Marvel and DC if you want Batman and Iron Man to kiss) while letting you play with the details you find most fun.
Working from a single piece of inspiration can feel limiting, which is why I recommend drawing on several sources at once. I’ve written previously about how I like to take obvious inspiration from other stories when making characters quickly. So if you want whatever you produce to feel distinct from your inspiration, combine multiple sources and add a few ideas of your own. Just as that combination of two familiar tropes is often more novel and fun to play with than a single trope, the combination of multiple sources of inspiration quickly becomes greater than the sum of its parts. Use that to your advantage, and play around with the tension created by any inconsistencies.