Enjoying Research

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No matter what sort of book we happen to be writing, sooner or later - preferably sooner - we'll find ourselves needing to buckle down and research.  This is pretty intuitive for those of us writing historical fiction; the era of careful propaganda and make-believe "history" has, alas, gone its way, and now we've actually got to stick to facts.  Ho hum.  For fantasy or science fiction authors it is a little less obvious, but again, at some point you realize that they demand, if anything, even more research than historical novels.  It's just a fact of writing life.

It is not, of course, always a pleasant fact.  Some people really enjoy researching; others find it daunting and unpleasant.  I happen to fall somewhere in the middle: there are times when I love it - especially those moments where a nebulous idea and a concrete fact finally click - and then there are times where I'd rather be doing anything else.  Maybe even scrubbing bathtubs.  And I'm pretty sure that second feeling is more common than the first.

It is difficult to know, especially when you're just getting started, where to start.  There must be books - no self-respecting writer should really on the internet - but what books?  And where do we find them?  And once we've found them, how do we find what we need in them?  Are books our only resources, or are there others?  If there are others, what are they, where are they, and how do we use them?  If you are tackling a particularly big subject, like World War II or the history of medicine, it can seem like there's no resource material; and then it can feel like there's an ocean of material and we're just paddling along on the surface in a little leaky dinghy.  That is what makes research not so fun.

I still get this feeling, whether I'm studying the Age of Sail or astrolabes: I'll confess that right away.  But it is a little less overwhelming when approached with some ideas of organization and method - they keep the holes in the dinghy patched, at the very least.  These are a few of the things I do to make research a little smoother, a little brighter, and a little more enjoyable.

1. make book lists

I like lists.  I like how practical and efficient they are.  When I begin researching seriously, I try to write down all the titles of books that I think might be helpful in different aspects of the novel, big and small.  Often you can find these by merely googling the topic you're looking for, and once you've found one book, you can discover more by following that author's references.  You are pretty sure to find yourself with an extensive list this way.

After that, I'll usually try to track down the book either on Google Books or Amazon and preview it.  If it looks worthwhile, I can sometimes get it from the library; but our library is pretty poor, and at any rate, at some point you've got to give library books back.  They also frown on underlining.  So if at all possible, it is really best to save up and buy the books you need - the ones that look as though they'll be most useful across the board.  It may seem like a dull use of your money, but it really is worth it. 

For those books you can't purchase or that don't look extremely helpful, take note of them and see if they aren't available online.  Many books and original material are.  I was able to use the Naval Documents of the Barbary Wars without paying $500 dollars for it, which was very nice indeed, and I've found numerous other works via Google Books.

2. underline! take notes!

I talked about this in general terms in "More Than Pages Flying By," but it really is a good idea to, at the very least, stick tabs in pages you'll need to reference later.  Don't trust your memory.  It never turns out well.  ("Was it pages 300...?  Or 3...?  I think it was on a lefthand page.  No, no, pretty sure it was right.  Or was it left?")  If you come across a random tidbit of information, or something you want to look into more deeply, jot it down in a handy notebook.  Underline, if you like, and perhaps make notes in the margins: you can do it in light pencil and erase later, if the idea of a pen makes you cringe.  

3. pick out useful bits

You needn't read all the way through every book you get for research.  I think you should read through some, even most, or you will have no cohesive feel for the time period or the topic; but to read from page one to the end in every single work can be both tedious and unhelpful.  Skim through the pages, decide which books will be most helpful, and read those.  Settle yourself in, get a cup of tea, and immerse yourself in those works: they may not be one hundred percent enjoyable, but I think they'll be rewarding.  For the other books, look at the chapter headings (if there are any) and the index and read those sections dealing with your subject. 

4. space research out

Cramming isn't the best method for thoroughly learning anything.  I know some writers like to do all their research before they begin to write, but even with this, I think you should space your reading out over a good long period: don't try to stuff it all into a couple months.  For myself, I rarely know half of what I don't know until I've begun to write, so I spread my research out before, during, and after my first draft.  Whatever works - just don't cram.

5. keep notebooks

I don't do this like I should, but I'm going to be hypocritical and say it's a good habit.  One thing I started doing last year or the year before is keeping a notebook of common British plants, with sketches (flowers are about the only things I can draw, apparently), common names, folklore, and medicinal uses.  It has been helpful on occasion; but immediate helpfulness aside, it provides a pleasant diversion and is something I know I'll be glad to have down the road.  It's good practice, at any rate.  I have another blank notebook ready for common birds, except that birds are significantly harder to sketch than the odd sprig of valerian.

6. don't be narrow-minded

It is easy to hone in on one era or topic to the detriment of others, but that practice is bad for the mind and makes research tiring.  I get bored of focusing on one thing for a long time.  That's part of why I keep my plant notebook: it is something entirely removed from politics and historical events, and that makes it refreshing.  No matter what you are primarily researching, remember to branch out - and to enjoy yourself when you do.  Keep a sketch notebook, if you like; or, if you can't draw, paste photos into a notebook and write your notes by hand, scrapbook-style.  Just the other day I started a Pinterest board for random bits of research and notes that snag my interest and may come in handy: photos or drawings of birds, of plants, of fruit I might eventually need to describe.  I'm not terribly particular about it, but I do have fun with it.

what research methods do you use?

Off the Shelf

It has become something of a tradition - if you can make a tradition in just two years - for me to update the photos of my bookshelves around this time.  Not a great deal has changed as far as the big white bookcase goes, since it has all but run out of room width-wise and is even getting cramped height-wise, which makes stacking books a bit of a chore.  However, I've made some alterations to the entertainment unit, introduced a research basket where most of my reference material goes, and bought some new books that managed to squeeze in where I was quite certain there wasn't any room left, so it seemed worthwhile to show off the new look.

The second shelf here is just about the same, although I think I shuffled some Shakespeare around a bit and got a copy of The Tempest.  The tannish-greenish book on top of Jane Austen is an adorable Scribner's, 1925, South Seas edition of David Balfour; it smells of old bookshops, and as far as physical books and not the stories side the covers go, is one of my favorites.  Jenny snitched my copy of The Black Arrow some months ago and I haven't taken the time to get it back yet, but it ought to be lying lengthwise under David Balfour.

I have added more to the top shelf - it was one of the few that still had room.  There's a nice fat copy of Les Miserables being chummy with The Count of Monte Cristo.  There's Nicholas Nickleby (the chap in maroon standing next to Treasure Island, also in maroon but significantly skinnier) and hardbacks of Don Quixote and Quo Vadis?.  The rather ugly lime green clothbound on the right is The Spy by James Fenimore Cooper; the ugliness has put me off from reading it.  Over toward the left is a copy of Frenchman's Creek by Daphne du Maurier that I also have yet to read.  And Kidnapped, which out to be spanning the gap between Treasure Island and The Count, is off the shelf.  Again.  I'm pretty sure it was off the shelf last year when I took 2012's photos.  It's a popular one.

Same old, same old around here.  David Copperfield, who ought to be propping up Mary Barton, is currently serving as my downstairs reading.  The second shelf down is the same as always, though I did pick up a copy of Starflower and Moonblood.  I was given another copy of The Hobbit for my birthday, too: it's a little leather one under On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, difficult to spot in this photo.  I also shuffled Mary Stewart over to the entertainment unit to make room for the growing Tales of Goldstone Wood.  Anne Elisabeth Stengl has no compassion on my shelves.

 

Nothing much to see on the first shelf here, save for that pale blue book towards the far end, which is a rather out-of-place looking Mr. Midshipman Hornblower - move along!  The bottom shelf filled out rapidly when I finished with my research material for the Sea Fever books, and got several new books into the bargain.  The yellowy one far on the right is A Hanging Offense, which was so-so; the one next to it on the left, dwarfed by the chunky The Line upon a Wind, is The Fatal Cruise of the Argus - I've not read that one through yet.

Coming down the shelf to the left, I crammed in all my particularly useful books: Edward Preble, dull but incredibly helpful; Dawn Like Thunder, also marvelous; Stephen Decatur and The Barbary Wars, which were rather meh; and then a few on naval warfare that had been lying flat in last year's shot.  The green hardback to the right of The Barbary Wars - I don't know if you can see it - is a pretty copy of Rudyard Kipling's The Seven Seas, a collection of poetry. 

 

Mostly mysteries down here on the lower shelf of the entertainment unit, with a very big, very heavy, very highlighted (and not by me) Pelican Shakespeare to boot.  I picked up some Agatha Christie novels and was given The Secret Adversary, the first Tommy & Tuppence, for my birthday.  Sherlock Holmes is getting a little tipsy over on the right.  Lying flat on top are The Red House Mystery, an enjoyable murder mystery by that wonderful fellow called A.A. Milne; another Holmes; and a Wodehouse.  I have two Jeeves novels, but I just finished reading the other and he hasn't gone home yet.

 

Top shelf!  This has obviously filled out since last year.  Of The Thief series, I only had the first one this time last year; I picked up The Queen of Attolia and The King of Attolia (lovely hardback, too) in the interim, but have not yet read the latter.  There's Howl, looking very creased from getting passed around the family so many times.  I Capture the Castle and Peter Pan are being green together.  There are a couple more Peter Pan books that I've not yet read, a few Costain novels (Ride with Me and High Towers) that I really only picked up because of their looks, and a fat N.C. Wyeth-illustrated The Scottish Chiefs.  The little book on top is one I just got a few weeks ago, The Winter Prince by Elizabeth Wein.  

In the back - you can just see them - are some of my Christian books (which sounds ridiculous, but I'm not sure what else to call them).  Anna gave me Mornings with Tozer.  There's Charity and Its Fruits, and The Death of Death in the Death of Christ, and the pale blue one on the right is God with Us.  The Mind of the Maker is playing coy on the left and barely made an appearance.

Here is the aforementioned research basket, which is actually getting alarmingly full.  The big red book is an atlas of the ancient world.  The fake, Celtic-knot book came with tea in it and is now used for collecting rejection letters (yay!).  It leans rather forlornly against a Smithsonian bird book; two books on ancient astronomy that I just added two days ago (Echoes of the Ancient Skies and In Search of Ancient Astronomies, by E.C. Krupp); and three Country Diary books, full of watercolors and nature notes by a Birmingham lady in the early 20th Century.

And this is my too-large stack of books that are either being read or that just haven't made their way back home.  On the right stack are an old copy of Wordcrafter; two writing notebooks and a general notebook; Gleanings from Paul (there to make me finish reading it); and the currently-being-read Signs Amid the Rubble.  Which is splendid.  I confess the first two lectures were a little taxing and it was difficult to tell where he was going, but by the time I came to the third, I was having to restrain myself from underlining every other passage.  Excellent book - do read!

On the left there is Daughter of Time by Josephine Tey, which I just began last night; The Inimitable Jeeves, finished the other night but still kicking about; and Kidnapped, which really should go back to its spot now.  The absolutely massive book is a book on Cromwell - I'm not sure why it's still there.  Below that is an Arthur Custance work, and then Red Moon and Black Mountain, and then another notebook.  I should clear up this mess, but I get so used to seeing all the books there that I just never do!

what are your shelves looking like this spring?