I’m in the very early stages of drafting book ten, which means I’m in one of my favourite parts of the writing process: research! I often get completely lost in researching my stories, but this can go one of two ways: I’m often fascinated by everything I’m learning, but I can quickly become overwhelmed. I suspect I’m not alone in this – do you know the feeling too? When all of a sudden a brilliant idea becomes a muddle, thanks to the mountain of research you’ve decided you *must* do. Fortunately, over time I’ve found a few ways to help me through this scenario.
There are two types of research you need to focus on in order to write a book: essential and background. Essential research covers all the things you need to know in order to write a scene or a chapter, and your book will struggle without it: your fiction won’t feel as believable, while non-fiction won’t be as well-supported without verifiable research. This differs from background research, which is everything you do to add depth, colour and authenticity to your story.
It’s easy to confuse background research with essential research, but while background research is important, the problem is that it’s also open-ended. For example, if I’m writing about a historical shipwreck, essential research might tell me the important practical information about how people abandoned a specific ship. However, I would also want to know lots of tiny details to make my scene feel real, and to understand how each of the characters might have felt in this situation. Therefore, for background research I could read stories of shipwreck survivors, but how many do I need to read before I’ve got this covered? No one can decide this except me, and it easily leads to worry: if I stick to one book, I might learn a lot, but will I have a rounded perspective? Or will I miss something important if I don’t keep reading?
I came up against this problem when I wrote my third novel, Shallow Breath, which required me to get into the minds of a number of different animal experts. My characters worked with dolphins, whale sharks, elephants, orangutans and kangaroos, and the story featured a real place in Western Australia (Atlantis Marine Park) that no longer exists, but which everyone in WA remembers fondly. I ended up doing six months of solid research before I began writing – which is the longest period of focused research I’ve undertaken aside from my PhD work. Some of it was important for the book, but I also remember how hard it was to stop and begin writing: in part because I wasn’t sure I knew enough, and also because the research was so fascinating that it became a form of procrastination. I ended up reading about lots of things that weren’t relevant to the story, such as a book on the intelligence of parrots (there are no parrots in Shallow Breath), probably because while I was safely reading and listening and watching, I wasn’t in that uncomfortable, vulnerable position of attempting to write my ambitious story.
I’ve found that having a written research summary document (which you can develop as you go) can help combat this kind of overwhelm. Just remember you don’t need fancy headings and colour coding or you’re heading back into procrastination territory! I use three headings: essential, background and reference. Everything listed as essential research should have a specific question against it, which you hope to answer through the research, and everything under your background research should also have a character or setting or scenario against it. In most cases you may only need one book/paper/TV show/podcast etc. to discover what you need, so writing down your questions, themes and reasons against each piece of research will help you see where you might be overdoing it. Check in with your list and expand/contract as needed. The themes at the heart of your story might benefit from expanded research, but always look at where you might refine the process rather than add to it.
The reference section of your research document is where you put everything else you find that might prove interesting, but which currently plays no specific part in helping you develop your story. In the shipwreck scenario, this might be reference books about historical shipwrecks, which could become useful later - but if you have no specific question attached to an area of research, always put it in the reference section, and only move it if necessary.
If you want to extend this research document, you might also find it useful to take note of similar books to the one you’re trying to write, or useful craft books – but again, have a specific reason for listing it – i.e. how does this author use present-tense first person to create suspense - and keep this as contained as possible. As you develop your research list you can also assess the time the research will take, which will help you stick to a schedule. I like to do some research before I start writing so that I feel immersed in my themes, characters and settings, then I usually continue researching as I go. Another popular author I know leaves a lot of the research until after draft one, allowing her to finish the book and focus on the story without getting waylaid. I also heard recently that Bonnie Garmus wrote Lessons in Chemistry – one of my favourite books of the last few years – with a solitary chemistry textbook by her side, so as not to overwhelm herself. How sensible! And the book is probably all the better for it.
Whatever you choose to do, understanding and analysing your research process will keep you moving forward, and your desire to write a fully researched book won’t become a depressing mess of overwhelm. And once you have your research covered, you can relax and more confidently immerse yourself in your writing.
I hope this was useful! If you have any more tips, let me know in the comments, and have a great week!