Despite my grandiose commentary of the other day, it is really hard to write about a non-standard world.
"Panopticron" didn't start out located in a place that was all that weird, geologically/cosmologically speaking. But then I realized it could be, and in many ways it ought to be, a world that is nothing but a set of stairs, and God is taking the steps up - leaving his worshippers crawling amidst the dust of his passing.
So, I can put it into a few words, but still, it's really hard to conceive this perhaps-poignant, perhaps-lame metaphor in terms of a real world. What's to the side of that world-qua-stairwell? A wall, and the living room? Uh... no. This is not my parents' house. This is a "secondary world"... isn't it?
Still, it's fun to try. It makes everything a symbol, for one, which is cool, though it also has an immense possibility of degrading the entire venture by making it... unserious. Nonetheless... I will risk that. Risk, after all, is a pretty good boardgame, so I guess it's probably okay to apply my (losing) boardgame strategy to my novel-writing.
Enough of this blather. I guess I'm just saying that, now I understand why most fantasies are still bound to a planet in a standard cosmological frame.
Good thing I'm a book-gangsta... I think.