Just as it’s most vitally important to choose the right setting for your story, it’s also important to choose the right type of housing for your characters. One of the many reasons my storyline about the Konevs moving back to NYC failed was because it never advanced beyond liking the idea of them living in a beautiful old townhouse or luxury apartment. It never took into account where they truly most belong.
You can want to write about, e.g., 16th century London, 1750s Prague, 1840s Boston, 1880s Manhattan, 1920s Paris, or 1960s San Francisco all you want, but that won’t mean anything if it never develops beyond an abstract idea and doesn’t naturally fit with the characters.
Think about who your characters truly are, not how you’re forcing them to be. While they’ll of course go whichever way you dictate, you may eventually discover you chose the wrong path. If this happens several books into a series instead of while writing a standalone or first book in a series, you need to work with what you already have instead of lighting everything on fire and potentially creating even more mistakes.
It’s the same as with any other storyline you discover naturally taking another path, like a character meeting the perfect future spouse well before you planned for her/him to meet an entirely different partner. “Life is what happens to you while you’re busy making other plans.”
Think about who your characters are, really are, not just how you’d like them to be. Growing up in a certain type of home creates a certain state of mind. There are distinct differences between the following kinds of people:
A proletarian with deep roots in a major metropolis, who grew up playing on sidewalks, going to public parks for green spaces, stoop-sitting and people-watching, living in a modest walk-up apartment and not knowing anyone with a private house.
An old money family with lots of kids, living in a 6,000-square foot estate where all the space is made perfect use of instead of being for grandiose show. Their property includes many acres of gardens, trees, brindle paths, and fishponds.
A wealthy family with a 3,000-square foot duplex apartment in the big city, complete with a doorman, elevator operator, several servants, and amenities like a sauna, pool, and exclusive restaurants. They also have a summer home by the seashore.
A lower-middle-class family with a charming bungalow in a sleepy small town.
A humble farming family living nowhere near even a smaller town, with a self-sufficient existence.
A newlywed couple in a 100-year-old Tudor Revival house in a thriving artists’ colony in a very old suburb of a major city, so established it’s become its own city.
A bourgeois family in a brand-new housing development in a suburb 30 miles from the nearest large city.
An aristocratic family with several estates, a townhouse, a yacht, and a few pied à terres.
Members of a reigning family, rather far down the line of succession, with a palace and summer villa considered modest by royal standards.
The ruling branch of said family, who spends the year moving between five different palaces, a yacht, royal relatives’ palaces in other countries, a summer villa, and a hunting lodge.
If you put any of them in a place they’re not accustomed to, it won’t go well. A rich socialite who thrives on apartment life and her second home in the Hamptons will be like a fish out of water in a humble 900-square foot bungalow in a small town in Iowa, just as a third-generation farmer will be very discombobulated if relocated to a grand palace with servants catering to his every need.
Are your characters artists? Intellectuals? Small business owners? What socioeconomic class are they? How about hobbies and personalities? Do they crave privacy, or do they thrive on social life and constant action? Are they passionate about gardening? Do they have any pets? Are any of those pets livestock?
Someone who’s been taken away from their accustomed setting may eventually get used to the new setting. Others may accept it as part of a radical move (e.g., going on the Oregon Trail or immigrating to a new country), but eventually feel more and more of a calling back to the familiar. Still others may never be happy about it.
For some people, a bungalow or 600-square foot condo is the perfect home, while others feel more at home in an old stone cottage or sprawling estate. It’s all down to the individual.