The First Brick

Every universe begins with a single brick. Not a blueprint. Not a plan. A brick.

The Mythology of Starting

We imagine that creators start with complete visions. They see the whole thing, then execute it.

This is a myth.

In reality, creators start with a fragment. A feeling. A single clear idea. They lay one brick, see what it suggests, and lay the next.

The universe emerges from the process of building, not before it.

My First Brick

For my waiting universe, the first brick was not the tower or the city. It was a character.

A woman who traded her worst memory for the ability to never feel regret. She got what she wanted. She regrets nothing—literally cannot regret. And she has learned that regret, for all its pain, was what made her careful. What made her kind.

Now she climbs the tower, looking for a way to get her memory back. To feel regret again.

One character. One situation. One question.

That was my first brick.

How to Lay Your First Brick

Stop trying to start at the beginning. The beginning is not where things actually begin.

Instead:

Find the fragment that is most alive. What part of your dream feels most vivid? Most charged? Most urgent? Start there.

Describe it in one paragraph. Not a summary of the whole thing. Just that one fragment. Make it concrete.

Accept that it is imperfect. The first brick is always rough. It will be refined later. Right now, it just needs to exist.

Do not connect it to anything yet. It is a brick, not a building. The structure comes later.

The Brick Collection Phase

After the first brick comes more bricks. But not a building—not yet.

The early phase is collecting bricks:

• Characters with their contradictions
• Places with their atmospheres
• Moments that feel significant
• Rules for how things work
• Questions that need answering

Each brick is self-contained. Each is alive on its own terms.

This is different from outlining. Outlining is structure-first. Brick-laying is material-first. We collect the pieces, then discover how they fit.

The Unexpected Discovery

Here is what happens when you lay bricks: The universe starts to tell you things.

That character you created? They have a brother. You did not plan that. But there he is.

That rule you invented? It has a loophole. Someone will exploit it.

That place you described? It used to be something else. The history emerges as you write.

The universe is not just in your head. It is trying to exist. Your job is to let it.

When Bricks Contradict

Sometimes the bricks do not fit. The character from chapter one would never do what you wrote in chapter three. The rule from page ten breaks the plot from page fifty.

This is fine. Expected, even.

Early bricks are proposals. Not all proposals work. You will revise. You will throw some away. You will discover which bricks belong in this building and which belong elsewhere.

Contradiction is information. It tells you the shape of the thing you are making.

The Transition to Structure

At some point, you have enough bricks. The pile is substantial. The universe has contours.

Now structure emerges:

• Which bricks are foundational?
• Which bricks depend on which?
• What is the sequence?
• Where are the gaps?

This is when you can outline—when you have material to organize. Not before.

My Collection So Far

For my universe, the bricks I have laid:

• The woman who traded regret
• The tower and its floors
• The memory merchants
• The three cities that surround the tower
• The rule: every trade requires equivalent suffering
• The seekers and why they climb
• The thing at the top (still unclear, but something is there)

Some of these will survive to the final version. Some will not. All were necessary to lay.

Your Brick Prompt

What is the most vivid fragment of your waiting dream?

Not the whole thing. The piece that visits you most often. The image that will not leave. The character who feels most real.

Write it down. One paragraph. No more.

That is your first brick.

Universes are not conceived whole. They are grown, brick by brick, until the structure becomes undeniable.

Next: What happens when you are building and everything goes dark.