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Bywayeans, from an Earthling's perspective, are handicapped fiction writers.
Like, actually handicapped, not just being obsequiously humble about something at which they're secretly terrifying talented.
At least, they're pretty sure this time.
Earthlings, upon observing Byway, would consider Bywayeans to have the possibly soulsickness-signifying deficit that they lack imagination.
Bywayeans, for their part, would stand in frank shock - and the smarter Bywayeans would more quickly stand in awe - of Earth's Tolkien, Herbert, Vinge. Even Bacon! How could one person contain, let alone produce, such a rich, alien world, with one - let alone more than one! - significant departure from observed reality, entirely out of their own mind?
Bywayeans - with the occasional exception - only write stories set on Byway.
How could they pretend to know anywhere else?
Sometimes future!Byway, sometimes past!Byway.
Sometimes imaginary locations in contemporary Byway, though that's often [and often justly] considered a sign of a hack author too lazy to bother with object-level research.
Usually real towns. Usually real neighborhoods within those towns. Half the time, any of the characters are real people. "RPF", on Byway, isn't a niche; real people are just numbered among the obvious tools - obvious to Bywayeans! - that one should use, to tell a story that's actually supposed to prove anything to a skeptical reader, create any impression on them, that has any correspondence to reality.
But frequently the characters are fake people.
