Sometimes it’s difficult to distinguish research from ‘bright
shiny object’ distraction. When you’re planning a new book that needs solid
research for its background, every new thread seems so exciting that it’s
obvious it’s the one to follow – until you see the next one. Later, when you’ve
worked out story, you still want to include every single fascinating little
fact that you discover.
I told someone recently that my tendency is to fine tune the
research after I’ve worked out the story line and know what I most need to find
out. That’s because I did it the opposite way in The House at Evelyn’s Pond– I
researched Ruth’s UK WWII experience first, deciding that she should be a Land
Girl. After months of reading up on Land Girls, I started writing – and it
quickly became clear not only that Ruth’s character was totally unsuited to
this choice, but that it wouldn’t add any depth to the book. So I threw all
that out, and started again – she became a pilot in the Air Transport Auxiliary.
A few days ago I sent a question to an archaeological
network about the next book I’m planning. By this morning I had twenty-two replies –
amazingly generous, helpful replies – and roughly eighteen different directions
to follow. They were all fabulous: intriguing, and mostly things I never would
have thought of. I was literally tingling with excitement. Once I calmed down,
I realized that there are a few that, thanks to having worked out a rough plan,
I can’t follow at all. But many of the other suggestions are directing me into
questions and maybe-answers for the spaces in between.
(After all, those unfollowed threads can stay in a folder or
in the back of my mind, so if they need
to, one day they can have their own book – or at least a cameo.)
Then, the writing continues, and you continue to collect fascinating
little facts. You need them so that you really understand what you’re doing
when you build your scenes. But THE READER DOESN’T. Some facts are fun. Too
many are boring.
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| For Dragonfly Song |
The good thing is that you can put them all into your first
draft, and then choose which ones are actually needed to move the story along,
and which ones are holding up a big sign saying, ‘Look how much I know!’ Even
when you’ve taken out everything that you could possibly take out, your editor
will probably still say something like, ‘This bit is really interesting, but I’m
just wondering if it slows the story down.’ And you say, ‘No, it doesn’t slow
it down at all, it’s absolutely necessary!’ Then you try looking at it without
that lovely little description, and see that she could possibly be right. A
little later you read it again and think, ‘Thank god for editors.’
And yes, when I say you, I mean me, and that is my ever so
astute but gentle editor.
Now, excuse me while I go find out some more fun facts,
which may or may not ever appear in a book…