A muse on Research

The other day I put up information on my fictional United Nations Marshals Service, the protagonist agency that Gene Bukowski ends up in my Iron Falls series. I did so to ensure that the background was authentic and pluasible, despite the fact that the series was set in 2101 onwards. Despite this, I really never thought about how I attack the other important component of story writing: research.

My friend Nigel's response that I can get overzealous and anal in forming background information for any given story threw me. Never had I considered that.

Until my collaborated effort, which had been one learning curve after another, I haven't really researched anything for my stories and generally made stuff up nillywilly. My story, ON THE BEATEN PATH, had started life as set on Mars in the near future or thereabouts. While most liked it on the Authonomy site, a couple got anal about the unrealistic nature of this and that. Put me off the story, and it went wayward. My collaborative effort with another writer friend had been an eye opener about the amount of detail of research that was done for each scene and, while it grated on my nerves to no end (as all I wanted to do was write and get the story over and done with), I now see value in it.

I have currently finished a draft run of the sequel to IRON FALLS: THE ENEMY WITHIN and an attempt in writing a historical fantasy.

Research is very much involved for me now, scene by scene, chapter by chapter.

But when is too much research, well... too much?

Guest Post by Terry Kroenung: Let Us Sit Upon the Ground and Tell Sad Stories of the Dearth of Research…

I'm pretty fortunate this morning to bring to you a guest post entry from a fellow writer, who happens to reside in the United States up Colorado way. By day, he is an English teacher at one of the nation's leading high schools, located in Niwot. Terry's also a playwright, and had plays produced in New York City and Europe, and has had a bunch of stories published in print and e-zines, and four books of plays on amazon.com.

He is the fellow behind a steampunk themed fantasy nove about a young girl and her shape-shifting sword, which is inhabited by the spirit of a boy who may--or may not--be a demon. When Terry doesn't teach or write, he dresses up as Shakespeare and Hector Barbossa at the Colorado Renaissance Festival (and choreographing swordfights there and elsewhere), working his way up the ranks at my aikido dojo, and spoiling his 2 red-headed grand kids. Online, Terry can be found here.

Anyway, I approached Terry with a request to write a guest post on why researching is just as important in fiction writing. This is what he had to say. . .

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“I never do research. I’m a creative artist, damn it!”

“All of that tedious mucking about in old books and libraries gets in the way of the real writing.”

“Nobody cares about the details, anyhow. They just want a good story.”

Hogwash…

This is akin to a supernumerary actor claiming that he may safely attend to his nasal hygiene during the St. Crispin’s Day speech because everyone will be looking at Henry. Oh, no, my friend. Take it from a veteran of over 100 theatrical productions in the U.S. and Europe: at any given time at least one pair of eyes will be lingering over that index finger of yours as it assiduously plunges up somewhere near your brain.

The same holds true for the most seemingly-irrelevant detail of your story. Someone, somewhere, is bound to notice that you placed Moose Jaw in Alberta instead of in Saskatchewan. Result: “That completely ruined the novel for me. I simply could not concentrate after such a glaring error. Lloydminster I could forgive. After all, it straddles the provincial boundary. But the iconic Moose Jaw? I mean, doesn’t that writer know how to use Wikipedia?”

All of the authorial howling in the world cannot change this. You have guaranteed that this particular reader (your customer, let us remember) did not receive satisfaction. And with word-of-mouth being the single greatest driver of sales, that can be inconvenient if not disastrous.

But that isn’t the most important reason for undertaking careful research. Of greater value is that knowledge, deep knowledge, improves your writing. Superficiality in prose fiction is akin to what is called “generalized emotion” in acting. If I play a generic feeling of fear onstage in Hamlet, that may please a few of the groundlings, but it will be unlikely to bring along the bulk of your audience as I try to lead them to that dark place where catharsis lurks. No, to create a truly empathetic response I must make their hair stand up “like the quills of the fretful porpentine”.

That would require, besides a thorough reading of the play (even the parts in which Hamlet does not appear), a grounding in the psychology of a pampered young man who has lost his beloved father. I must interview those who have been in such a situation, consult psychiatric professionals, read up on the history of the Danish court and the complex dynamics of monarchical families. Also requisite would be an understanding of the honest belief in ghosts which was so prevalent in Shakespeare’s time and how that might inform the prince’s reactions. Armed with such details, I could create a Hamlet who is a living, breathing particular person. Not a type of Renaissance Danish prince but rather a unique and quite specific and nuanced individual.

So it goes with fiction. Every iota of honest information gleaned links to innumerable others in a complicated mesh which will catch the conscience of, if not the king, your reader. It matters little that most of your patrons may not appreciate a particular geographical or historical detail. What is important is that your characters, atmosphere, and plot will be enriched from your having immersed yourself in the world of your story. And, as I can attest, the mere act of research will undoubtedly spin you off in unexpected and rewarding directions which you might never have discovered without “all of that tedious mucking about in old books and libraries.” In that sense your preparation is truly a creative act.

So dive into your research. It is akin to loading and priming your dueling pistol. While the artistry is in the aiming and the courageous facing of the foe, all would be for naught without powder and ball already being in place.