Beware the Rabbit Hole
By Victoria Fortune
Last year, I wrote about a project management class for writers, in which I worked out a schedule for completing my book. I did not meet my deadline. Nevertheless, it was a helpful process to break the writing of the book into steps and at least make a “guesstimate” about how long each step would take. The problem (at least part of it) was that I found it impossible to anticipate every step that would be necessary, much less every hour that will be required to complete each one.
One issue was estimating my rate of speed: some days I write faster than others. On days when the words gush forth, I easily fulfill, or even exceed, my word count quota. On days when I squeeze words out like the last bit of toothpaste in the tube, I fall short. The best I can do is take an average and hope I have more gushing days than not. But the bigger problem was that I underestimated the amount of time that would be needed for research.
Research is necessary for any writer, but it is particularly critical when it comes to writing a book that is, at least in part, historical fiction. (Mine has contemporary and historical plots lines.) I recently took a class at Grub Street with Tim Weed, author of Will Poole’s Island, on Technique in Historical Fiction, and I identified with the way he described his research process: he does enough up front to get a feel for the setting and characters, then he starts writing and does additional research as he goes. This is also historical fiction writer Hannah Kohler’s approach, according to her article “How to research a historical novel”: “Establish your characters and narrative, and then be strategic about what you need to find out. Research as you write.”
Though I did extensive research before I began, I’ve been amazed by how much more I’ve had to do as I get into the nitty gritty of scenes. For example, the contemporary plot line in my book centers around the family matriarch’s will. I did some initial research on estate law and probate court in Mississippi, where the story is set; however, while working on a scene in which the lawyer discusses the estate with the family, there were still numerous legal details that arose that I had to look up, as well as jargon for the lawyer’s dialogue. Luckily, this is a topic about which I only want to know the bare minimum. There is little risk that I will get swept up in the intricacies of intestacy and find I’ve spent my whole morning reading about it. The scenes set in the past pose a much greater risk, as I can easily get caught up for hours in old letters, diaries or newspaper articles.
While the research demands are greater for historical fiction, those who write it are generally drawn to the genre by a love for history and research. In an interview about her latest book News of the World, historical fiction author Paulette Jiles said, “If you are a writer, research is really kind of an investment, a storehouse of stuff, facts, images, and documents ready to hand . . . . To get things right, you have to love research. It’s an addiction.”
The great paradox for historical fiction writers is that research can also be their downfall. Shakespeare’s description of what alcohol does to man reminds me of what research can do to a historical fiction writer: “it provokes the desire, but it takes away the performance.” Though I would add the distinction that overindulging is what “takes away the performance.” Just the right amount does the trick.
The danger in doing too much research lies not only in spending all your time on it and never getting to the writing, but also in including too much of it in your writing. Even the most devoted fans of historical fiction do not want a history lecture. “Don’t chase accuracy so relentlessly that it gets in the way of telling your story,” says Kohler. It can be easy to get carried away with those fascinating details you uncovered and waste time on tangents that detract from your plot. In his class, Tim Weed cautioned against using scenes as a means to display your knowledge of historical detail. His advice was similar to Hannah Kohler’s: “[B]e sparing in building the historical setting of your novel. Only include historical details that advance your narrative. As for everything else you’ve learned — just feel it, sitting in your brain, giving you the confidence to write your story.”
If you enjoy research like I do, it's easy to get carried away. (Perhaps one of the reasons I’m still working on my book.) To avoid the rabbit hole, I have found it best to treat research like a controlled substance: only do as much as necessary, know the dangers of excess, and be mindful of your own tendency toward overindulgence.
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