How logistics and the tyranny of time and distance can manifest in fiction writing
It’s bugged me in a bunch of different books and series about how people (and armies) just show up when they’re needed. Nevermind what they were doing in the meantime, how far away they were, how long it would take for them to come back. In the case of a professional army that was dismissed, why would it hang around, patrol the countryside, or do anything besides go back to their home village or town?
So, what’s the fix? Can we construct a story that has a sensible pace of time and distance? Does the needs of the plot override physics? Maybe.
The Princely City of Yvel and nearby vassal towns.
Perhaps you recognize this map, the area of most of the story of The Witches of Serna. Believe it or not there are actually distances associated here. Distances and times. Some of you will note that there are some inconsistencies with the lore of the story. For example, it takes a month or so to for Serna to send for help from Yvel and the Prince to arrive with two battalions. But, later in our story, it only takes a week (or even half a week) to travel between Serna and Yvel. There are other factors involved, though. Just traveling from point A to point B takes a certain amount of time. But it took a whole month plus for the Prince to receive a message, amid all of the other urgent requests for help, decide what to do and how to apportion forces, let alone mustering them, filling out equipment and personnel shortages, appointing leadership - a whole ordeal. So, the point is that you don’t have to be perfectly consistent on these time tables, just roughly and have a reason why.
So, what’s needed to be sort of consistent? First, you need a calendar that you actually track in the story. It helps if you track along with the reader, perhaps by heading each chapter or scene with the month and day.
Second, you need a scale. Pick two points and assign a distance between them. Use that as the benchmark for all other trips and journeys. There is plenty of flex room in this: some roads are poorly maintained, wind through rugged terrain, travelers get sick and need to rest, weather and seasons slow or speed travel, people get lost or find shortcuts. It’s flexible, but have a benchmark.
Third, keep track of it. This is by far the most difficult. I would have notes and markers on maps for who was where in which chapter and scene. At one point, I realized that I had really screwed up the timeline, had to redo the calendar through the whole book, which screwed up the seasons and weather, which (of course) had an impact on the scenes themselves.
So, what about driving the plot? Doesn’t this get in the way? Quite the opposite. This is a tool to drive the plot. Another obstacle or benefit for one character or another. Why aren’t they getting to a place on time? Why are they getting to a place early? Where did they pick up such and such item? Keeping consistency with time and distance actually helps you think of more things to weave into your story. As you decide in chapter 16 that hero #4 shows up at town A, but starts off in town G, you plot their route (don’t forget that there will be smaller, unplotted backroads and farmer trails), figure out how long it will take, and suddenly, you have an idea. A scene in a roadside tavern, a holdup by bandits, a sighting of an omen on a misty morning in a valley, what have you.
I find that, by imparting the sense of passing of time, especially with travel, to the reader, you bring them in more.