I’ll be honest with you–there is a metric fuckton of worldbuilding stuff that never makes it into the books. I love worldbuilding like other people love air conditioning in summer and heat in winter. But I’m nervous about sharing it because it feels incomplete to me–like parading around in my underwear. In fact, I think I’d rather parade around in my underwear. I’ve got alibis for all my physical imperfections. I don’t have excuses for why the planet of Landfall’s mid-levels are the best places to get food from carts and find funky cafes even if the atmosphere’s starting to become harder to breathe and easier to chew.
But it’s a good sign that if I’m uncomfortable doing it, or if I’m avoiding it, it’s probably a thing that I need to do.