The best books for incredibly realistic and compelling world-building both historical and fictional.

What accolades can anyone add to what has already been heaped on the standard against which almost all epic fantasy books are held? I loved the superbly fleshed-out characters of The Lord of the Rings, enjoyed the very British humor, and was awed by Tolkien’s creation of what is virtually a mythology for Great Britain.

Most of all, it was the tales about the realms of Middle Earth that had me finishing all three volumes in less than a week. I was so enthralled with this fantastical yet realistic universe that my grades took a nosedive because I spent time reading this book, which should have been devoted to my schoolwork. Tolkien conjured a world that left me yearning for more and wishing Middle Earth was just tucked into an unexplored corner of our world, a mere boat or plane ride away,

I didn’t know Georgette Heyer wrote outside of Regency romances until I read The Conqueror. The period covering William the Conqueror’s life, from his accession as Duke of Normandy to his invasion and conquest of England, captivated me.

Heyer’s portrayal not only of the romances of William and Matilda of Flanders and a Norman vassal and English lady but also of the bond of friendship and loyalty between William and Raoul, the aforementioned vassal, were so plausibly written I almost believed both bond and fictional characters existed. Even better, she depicted 11th-century Normandy, England, and France in such riveting detail without sounding like an encyclopedia, often using her characters to help recreate that era. This book remains one of my favorites, and frequently re-read historical romances.

Of the novels based on the classic Star Trek TV series, this book is one of a handful that delves extensively into the background of arguably the show’s most iconic character. Diane Duane created a history for Spock and his birth world Vulcan, skillfully merged it with the show’s canon and used that as the backdrop for a political crisis that threatens to affect the United Federation of Planets.

Trekkie that I am, it felt like a pilgrimage of sorts when I read this book. I was fascinated with the past events that shaped the planet due to the extraordinary world-building covering Vulcan’s prehistory all the way to its peoples’ ventures into space exploration and, of course, the development of the famous Vulcan ethic of logic. What’s not to love about a novel that makes the most fascinating world in the Star Trek universe come alive in every aspect?

The Roselynde Chronicles aren’t just historical romances; they’re a deep dive into English life during the reigns of Richard the Lionheart and King John. Because Roberta Gellis didn’t prettify the traditions and conditions of the era and toned down only the practices and language that would confound modern readers, I was almost effortlessly transported back to that period.

My favorite book in the series is the third novel, Joanna, largely because of a hero who doesn’t fit the romance archetype of devastatingly tall, dark, and handsome. Not that Geoffrey isn’t one of the three, but he’s presented as the most ordinary-looking of the leading men in the series. That made him feel more real to me. Joanna, on the other hand, isn’t the stereotypical, sometimes anachronistically independent, and feisty beauty I’d come to associate with historical romances. Thanks to the superb writing and lavish yet realistic depiction of the era, I was absorbed in this tale of love and passion, as well as the socio-political upheavals that would bring the Angevin Empire to an end.

It was this book that disabused me of the notion that fantasy had to be written in a specific way, often in highfalutin or profound language. It encouraged me to put my own stories into writing.

Though very much a historical fantasy novel, this book was easy to understand despite the unfamiliar terms and background details of a fantastical universe. I think it’s due to Katheryn Kurtz’s initial use of simple, down-to-earth language and a fairly straightforward story, which, looking back now, was probably aimed at teenagers or young adults. I was sometimes reminded of the first volume of JRR Tolkien’s epic novel, especially because the succeeding books got progressively darker and more complex.

In this introductory book, the world of the Deryni, a race of mortals with magical powers, is fleshed out so well that the kingdom of Gwynedd, its people, and its neighboring realms feel so real that I wish they actually existed.