Corrected: David Mitchell’s “Start with the Map”

From The New Yorker's archive: an absorbing essay about how the novelist creates his multilayered fictional worlds.  ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌ ‌   View in browser | Update your preferences     Page-Turner Start with the Map A writer's lessons in imaginary cartography. By David Mitchell A draft of this newsletter containing the wrong story was mistakenly sent yesterday. We hope you enjoy this version, and wish you happy holidays.   The English novelist David Mitchell is known for his experimental, inventive literary style. The author of nine novels, including "The Bone Clocks" and "Cloud Atlas"—the latter was shortlisted for the Man Booker Prize—Mitchell appears to leap effortlessly from one fantastical terrain to the next. He is also one of the co-writers, along with Aleksandar Hemon and the director Lana Wachowski, of the screenplay for "The Matrix Resurrections," the latest installment of the sci-fi film franchise, which opened this week. In 2018, Mitchell published "Start with the Map," an absorbing essay about how he creates his multilayered fictional worlds. (The piece is an excerpt from the book "The Writer's Map: An Atlas of Imaginary Lands.") The novelist describes his childhood literary inspirations and writes about how he has used cartography to help him envision his characters and narratives. "While none of the novels I've published as a writer contain maps, my notebooks are littered with them. Scenes (or suites of scenes) need spaces to happen in. What those spaces look like, and what is in them, can determine how the action unfolds. They can even give you ideas for what unfolds," he writes. As Mitchell evolved as a writer, maps not only revealed storylines but became an integral tool for building on his own genre-bending ideas. You can lose yourself in a map, he observes, and upon losing yourself discover new possibilities. The essay is a fascinating look at how one novelist crafts vivid panoramas of prose, imperceptibly molding his compositions into rich, distinctive domains. With a keen eye, Mitchell offers uncommon insight into the rigorous act of creation. He renders worlds within worlds like a master artisan—elevating us out of our own subdued realities and galvanizing the imagination with his ambitious, visionary chronicles.   —Erin Overbey, archive editor More from the Archive     Books What Happens When David Mitchell Writes a Rock Novel? From 2020: A conventional story of a band's rise turns into a book on another plane entirely. By Jonathan Dee     A Critic at Large The Floating Library From 2010: What can't the novelist David Mitchell do? By James Wood You're receiving this e-mail because you signed up for the New Yorker Classics newsletter. Was this e-mail forwarded to you? Sign up.   Unsubscribe | Manage your e-mail preferences | Send newsletter feedback | View our privacy policy    The New Yorker may earn a portion of sales from products and services that are purchased through links in our newsletters as part of our affiliate partnerships with retailers.    Copyright © Condé Nast 2021. One World Trade Center, New York, NY 10007. All rights reserved.