JULIA SPENCER-FLEMING: One of the things I've known for as a writer is my scenery, which is ironic, since one of the common remarks from my writing group when I was first attempting fiction was, "Great dialog, but it feels like the characters are all standing in a gray fog somewhere." Heck, with that as a baseline, I had nowhere to go but up, right?
I applied myself to learning the fine art of setting the scene. I read books on writing, looking for hints about creating backgrounds that were more, well, foreground. I paid close attention to the little details of nature when I was 
outside, and to people's homes when inside. That last wasn't a stretch - I'm an interior design junkie. Most importantly, I read other authors, soaking up how they made the worlds their characters moved through come alive. (Two always-green recommendations for writers seeking to do the same? William Kent Krueger and Steve Hamilton.)
Finally, I worked on applying what I had read, learned and observed to my own writing. Did I make the grade? Well, this September, I'm teaching a class titled "When The Where is the Why – Taking your scene-setting to the next level" at the Novelists Inc. Conference. Here's the description:
Do you struggle with using setting to reinforce character? Are you confident you're making high-value choices that don't slow the reader down? In this workshop you will learn to use setting to create metaphors, enrich your prose, and create worlds your readers never want to leave.
And here an example of scene setting from AT MIDNIGHT COMES THE CRY - a section of the book that contains (gasp) only one line of dialog.
He glanced back; the edge of the promontory was almost out of sight. He peeled a couple inches of bark from the east and wet sides of an alder and went on.
In this dead season, the undergrowth was more of visual screen than an impediment to hiking through. He looked for any sign of human passage as he went eastward, but this was terrain that didn't yield much, other than deer scat and rabbit pellets and, at one point, several wild turkey feathers where some bird had met his end. They were following the path of least resistance toward Terrance's coordinates, but really, how accurate could the man have been when they were all flipped sideways and under fire? He was starting to wish for the bear to show up again and lead them to their destination when his careful perusal of the ground paid off. Not scat, or feathers, or even a boot print. A tripwire.
It stretched across two tree trunks about ankle-high off the frozen leaf litter. He followed the line around one trunk to see a simple home-made alarm; a clothes pin screwed into the wood, connected to a circuit board small enough to have come out of a garage door opener.
He stood. The others had caught up with him. “It sends a radio signal, which means they're close.”
What are the settings that came alive for you in novels?
