Writing Fiction – Do the Research (but don’t be constrained by it)

These headphones are conducting rigorous research – are you?

Image © healingdream

I recently finished the first draft of my novel, and I knew immediately it would need a lot of changes. I’d been constructing a unique fantasy world as I wrote, and the world I ended up with was a lot more complex than the one I started with – more complex, but not necessarily richer.

Mainly this was because I’d gradually created a culture based on the technologies of nuclear weaponry, opencast mining, and basketry, yet knew almost nothing about any of those topics. Thorough research was needed.

A good research plan, followed rigorously, can enrich your fiction – its settings, histories and characters – by adding background detail. Even if the things you learn never make it onto the page, having the information in your head will give you more confidence in the topics you’re addressing.

It may even be the case that you’ve totally misunderstood a subject, and you have to make major rewrites. Irritating, but better to find out after the first draft than when an agent or publisher takes it upon themselves to check up on these things! Don’t assume you know about something just because it featured in an episode of CSI!

At the other end of the spectrum, the research may open your eyes to so many new possibilities that your imagination is fired up all over again, and you can’t wait to make those rewrites. I’m delighted to report that this is exactly what happened to me.

One important thing to note is that research should enhance your writing, but not smother your creativity. Don’t give yourself so much research to do that there’s no time left for the actual writing – be tactical, and only choose topics that are central to your characters or setting.

Also, don’t feel that you have to cram all of the fascinating new information you discover onto the page. Only incorporate the information that’s relevant to the reader.

Most importantly, don’t aim for perfect realism at the expense of a good story. Rich, detailed fiction benefits from being grounded in some sense of reality, not from emulating it – that’s called a ‘textbook’ or ‘the news’!

Are you a writer? How much research do you generally do? Do you make a research plan? And how deeply does your research inform the finished product? Click ‘comments’ below, or e-mail pithytitle@live.co.uk

What Are YOU Looking At?

 

Image © Salvatore Vuono

Here’s a shocker – a post on my personal writing blog that’s actually about my personal writing, actually. No rants about our broken society or meandering diatribes on spoon-licking aliens this week. Instead, I have an interesting question for you, the answer to which has a direct bearing on my unusual manuscript. The question is this;

Can accurate visual descriptions ever undermine, rather than reinforce, the strength of a written narrative?

My protagonist, Gwillum Hobnail (who is also the story’s narrator), is blind. Not only is he blind, but he is slightly dim-witted, very susceptible to suggestion, and has only the most basic understanding of the world around him. Gwillum makes up for this with an overactive imagination. He fills the gaps in his knowledge and understanding with invented explanations, locations, words, and even people.

Despite all this, Gwillum is ultimately unable to give visual descriptions of his world, real or imagined, due to the fact that he doesn’t know what seeing is. When a visual description cannot be avoided, both Gwillum and I turn to his companion, Crawly Steve, a mute worm who communicates by tapping on Gwillum’s toes in code.

What I wonder is, am I doing Gwillum a disservice by regularly resorting to the one sense that he can’t make use of himself? Should I have the courage to rely on Gwillum’s limited senses and wild imagination more often? Will the narrative be stronger if the reader is truly forced to experience the world from Gwillum’s perspective? Or will the reader feel alienated without the touchstone of the visual?

I’m finally approaching the end of my first draft, and as time has gone on I’ve resorted more and more often to visual descriptions, and I’m concerned that the story’s unique selling point has been diminished as a result.

My current plan is to use draft two to re-establish the more eclectic and eccentric tone present in the first half of the manuscript. After that I’ll be sending it out to others for feedback – if they feel it needs more conventional visual descriptions, so be it.

So, what do you think? Can accurate visual descriptions ever undermine, rather than reinforce, the strength of a written narrative? Comment below, or e-mail pithytitle@live.co.uk.