How do you write about a place you’ve never been?
“Hi! I’m writing my novel in a small town from US as a non-US citizen and as someone who never visited the country. I’m doing my research as much as I can about the places from there. Any tips on how to write the action in a place you’ve never been to?”
Plenty of beloved novels have been set in locations their authors never stepped foot in. I know that so much writing advice will tell you to “write what you know,” but I’ve always preferred to say that we should write what we can learn. It’s not about where you’ve been, but about knowing how to research effectively and, more importantly, understand what details actually matter to your readers.
Modern technology has made writing about distant places more accessible than ever before (or you can kick it old school and head to the library). You don’t have to have been somewhere to make your setting feel real, lived-in, and genuine.
Research beyond the basics
Use visual and interactive tools
Google Maps and Street View have become invaluable tools. You can virtually “walk” down streets, see how buildings are spaced, and get a sense of a place’s landscape and atmosphere. For a US small town, for example, you might explore the distance between buildings and how the town centre is laid out, what local businesses exist and how they’re clustered together, how parking works and where people gather, and most importatnly, the style of houses and the rhythm of residential streets.
YouTube is another goldmine for this kind of research. Search for vlogs, driving tours, or “day in my life” videos from people living in places similar to your setting. They give you ambient details, like sounds, daily rhythms, and the way people interact that can really help you build a sense of place.
Dig into local sources
To really understand a place, you need to understand what its people care about. Local newspapers (many of which have online archives), can show you genuine community concerns, local controversies, and the way residents talk about where they live. For contemporary settings, town Facebook groups, Reddit communities, and local forums are treasure troves of mundane details.
Even tourism websites can be surprisingly useful. Search for “things to do in [place name]” and you’ll discover not only what is tourist-worthy, but will also probably find blogs sharing what locals consider noteworthy as they share the small, quirky details that make a place distinctive.
Read widely in your setting
Novels, memoirs, or essays set in locations similar to yours are also great resources. Other works that share you setting that have been well-received will give you a sense for what tolerance readers will have for authenticity.
Pay attention not just to what these writers describe, but how they describe it. Which details do they choose to include and which do you think they leave out? This will help you develop an instinct for what matters and what doesn’t.
Focus on universal truths
Readers don’t need exhaustive geographic accuracy. They need emotional authenticity.
A small town in the US shares qualities with small towns everywhere in the world. Everyone knows everyone’s business, there’s often tension between tradition and change, young people leave and sometimes return, and certain families or institutions hold outsized influence. These universal dynamics are the heart of your setting rather than the specifics.
What emotional truth do you want to convey about a place? Is it claustrophobic or comforting? Is it dying or resilient? Once you know the feeling you’re going for, the research details you need will become clearer.
What to include (and what to skip)
One of the biggest traps writers fall into is over-researching and then feeling compelled to include everything they’ve learned. Resist this urge. Your job isn’t to prove you’ve done your homework, which is a trap that writers with specialist interests often fall into. Accuracy should not come at the expense of plot. Your readers should feel like they’re there.
Be specific in your detail
A few well-chosen sensory details will do more work than paragraphs of description. The smell of coffee from a diner, the sound of a distant train, the way heat shimmers off pavement in summer are all small, specific moments create atmosphere without overwhelming your reader and don’t necessarily need an intimate knowledge of a setting to assume and describe.
You might also include regional speech patterns, cultural touchstones that ground your era and location, or details about local businesses or landmarks. But use these sparingly. You’re writing a novel, not a travel guide.
Keep vague what you’re uncertain about
If you’re not confident about precise distances, travel times, or highly specific local references, stay general. Readers are surprisingly forgiving about vague logistics but quick to notice when something feels wrong. When in doubt, focus on the emotional experience of a place rather than its precise geography.
Things to avoid.
- Don’t over-describe your research. Readers don’t need a geography lesson or a tourism brochure. A few confident details will establish your setting.
- Avoid stereotypes. Every place has clichés associated with it, and while some may contain a grain of truth, leaning too heavily on them makes your setting feel flat and can often be offensive.
- Don’t ignore the climate and seasons. Weather affects everything, from what people wear, to how they socialise, what they complain about, and how the landscape looks. Make sure your setting reflects the reality of its climate, and that you understand the differences. For instance, if you’re writing from the southern hemisphere and forget that the northern hemisphere has different seasons, your readers are going to be jolted out of their belief in your setting.
- Don’t forget scale and logistics. Different places have different relationships with distance. What counts as “nearby” varies enormously between cultures and geographies. For the US specifically, remember that it’s vast, so a “quick drive” in rural America might feel (and be) further than where you’re from.
