Research, Research, Research. When is Enough Enough?
Being an ordinary sort of a soul – by which, in this instance, I mean that I possess neither encyclopaedic knowledge of the subject matter of my novels, nor superhuman powers of recall – I spend untold hours doing research and, just as importantly, on indexing the digital notes I keep in order that I can find them when I need them. The problem with researching for a new novel, though, is ‘when is enough, enough?’
Every time I start planning a new trilogy, I'm tempted to try and short circuit the process by asking ‘What do I need to know?’ The trouble with this approach is that, certainly at the beginning, I don’t know what I need to know! So, I've learned to be more specific with my questions and selective in my search for the answers.
I start by checking the fundamentals. In the case of These Wartime Dreams, I had always pictured my protagonist, Pearl, becoming a bus conductress. The first thing I needed to know, therefore, was whether a woman could even become a conductress in 1942 – the year the book was to be set. If so, would the chance have existed in Exeter – the location of the story? If it was possible, would there have been any bars to recruitment – Pearl would have left school without qualifications. Once I have reassured myself the basic premise for the book is credible, I’ll do a quick trawl to see whether, when I need to, I will be able to establish enough detail – about matters such as uniforms, training, pay, and so on. If there’s plenty of reliable facts out there, I’ll settle for knowing that's the case. If I delved any deeper in the early stages, I’d never start writing.
Of equal importance to me is to spot any other opportunities to slip up. For example, my story was to be set immediately after the Exeter Blitz of 1942. So, when was that? How much – or how little – of the city was damaged or destroyed? Since my story is going to need a bus station, did one survive? Was there even a bus company left? Which real life areas of the city and well-known landmarks were flattened? Were civilians bombed out of their homes? If so, what happened to them? Where and how were they looked after?
It's at this point I usually decide whether or not the plot, in so far as it exists in my head, can be made to work. If it seems feasible, I turn my focus to the synopsis. For each 90-100k word novel in a trilogy, the synopsis will usually run to around three thousand words. Then it’s off to my agent for comment – where, if I’ve failed to notice an obvious pitfall, it will be picked up. After that, it’s off to the editor at the publisher for their input. After a bit of re-shaping, we end up with a proposal that’s acceptable to everyone, and off we go.
At this point, the focus of my research will shift to the question of authenticity. Readers don’t pick up a historical saga because they want a history lesson, but they do want what you're expecting them to believe to be true to the setting and the era. For example, it’s unlikely my characters would have been called Willow or Finn – unless they were known by a nickname or term of affection – but would Elizabeth have been fashionable when they were born, or would it have faded from popularity by then? What about Jennifer – would that be too post-war? Marion – a bit 1950s? Peggy? And which surnames would have been prevalent in that location? Even as late as the nineteen forties, more unusual surnames were still concentrated in certain areas. If my characters turned on the wireless – or were they calling it 'the radio' by then? – what would they have heard? What would they have eaten, drunk, worn? Where would they have worked? Are there any events in the wider world of which they would have been aware – an abdication, coronation, natural disaster? Oh, and on any given day, was it uncharacteristically hot, cold, tempestuous, or snowy? The list of subjects that contribute to a feeling of authenticity is lengthy, but every fact discovered helps to shape the story and can, sometimes, prompt ideas for anything from an outfit to a line of dialogue. I don’t believe a writer of historical fiction has to be factually accurate in every single instance, but the tale they're crafting does need to be credible. If I can’t prove something was at least likely to happen – but preferably certain to – then I’ll err on the side of caution and leave it out.
All of which brings me back to, when is enough research enough?
Personally, I find the process a bit like editing; no matter how polished your manuscript feels each time you work through it, it’s always possible to find a stronger word here, or a more appropriate piece of dialect there. Eventually, though, it comes to the point where you know you’ve edited it to the best of your ability and it’s time to engage another pair of eyes and move on. And I think the same goes for research. At some point, your gut just tells you the time has come to write, and to accept that, even once the creative process takes over, you’ll still be flicking back through your notes, just to be sure…
Rosie
