When it comes to writing fiction, we often talk about character, plot, or even theme as the building blocks of a story. But one of the most potent elements, sometimes overlooked or taken for granted, is setting.

Setting isn’t just a backdrop. It’s a container, a mirror, a source of conflict and transformation. Sometimes, you don’t choose a setting. It chooses you.

That’s what happened with Miranda’s Garden.

A Landscape That Lived in Me

I lived in Colorado for 16 years, and it will forever have my heart. The jagged majesty of the Rockies. The ever-present sunshine that lights up even the coldest days. The towering Douglas firs and whispering aspens. These weren’t just fond memories—they were emotional, spiritual truths. They became the soil from which Miranda’s story grew.

Nature is more than scenery in this novel. It’s a character. The forest around Miranda’s cabin is a place of solace, healing, and quiet power. The act of tending a mountain garden—difficult, unpredictable, and deeply rewarding—mirrors Miranda’s own inner work.

Nearby Locations With Symbolic Weight

Though the story is set primarily in the mountains, just outside a small mountain community, nearby places enrich the world:

Boulder – Just down the canyon from Miranda’s cabin, it offers glimpses of a busier life she’s left behind, and a future location for something new (stay tuned for the sequel!).

Denver – The bustle and complexity of city life contrast Miranda’s isolation and simplicity, and a way to put readers in the story who know the area well.

Tattered Cover Bookstore – A sacred space for book lovers (like Miranda and me), and a location where something magical happens.

Estes Park—A place for Miranda to delve even deeper into nature and meet a surprising group of hikers, who leave her with an important wish for herself.

Red Rocks Amphitheater – A place of transformation and magic in the story—and one of my favorite real-world locations.

Symbolism in the Land Itself

One reason I chose the Rockies for Miranda’s Garden is because the land itself tells a layered story.

The Rockies were formed over millions of years—from the Laramide Orogeny through the Ice Ages. That geological layering fascinated me—and it also reflected Miranda’s emotional complexity. She’s a woman of many layers, too. The setting became a symbol for that depth.

A Relationship That Continues

Setting isn’t static. It evolves in the writer’s relationship with it.

In the early stages of writing the first draft, I returned to Colorado to reconnect with the terrain. To walk the trails. To listen to the wind through the aspens. That trip reminded me of the textures and sounds I wanted to infuse into the story.

And I’ll return again—during a future book tour, and when I begin writing the sequel (which is already starting to take root in me).

Inherent Tension = Natural Metaphor

Gardening in the Rockies is no small feat. The soil is rocky. The growing season is short. Success takes specialized knowledge, persistence, and, sometimes, a bit of magic.

That natural tension makes it a perfect metaphor for Miranda’s inner life. Her transformation is slow, hard-won, and beautiful.

Questions for You

What places have you lived that became part of who you are?
What places do you most like to write about—and why?

The setting you choose (or that chooses you) might be more than just a place on the map. It might be the heart of your story.

Want more help writing setting? Check out my new digital flip book: What You Need to Know About Setting to Write Good Fiction