Research, Sex, and Related Remedies

Please welcome Denise Willson back to WU. Dee is an award-winning author, professional editor, author coach, entrepreneur, and a old friend of this community. She’s worked with publishers, authors, and professionals around the world. You can find her at her website, here. Great having you back, Dee!

Research, in regards to writing a manuscript, is like sex. Some love it, some hate it, but we all need it, or our species—along with our stories—will die a wretched death. Don’t believe me? Do your research. You’ll be surprised what you learn.

Research by definition is the collection of information. It’s studious inquiry, learning, and the search for knowledge. Without research, there would be no innovation or advancement, no understanding of the past, the present, or the future. Without investigative skills, mankind would be wiped out by disease, famine, war, nature in all its fury, or a simple microscopic bug. You get the picture—species over. (Oh boy, I’m sensing a theme here.)

We gather information in many different ways. We pose questions to those around us in search of answers. How did you do that? Why is that moving? We spy on neighbors and passersby. Isn’t he married? We turn to experts. Should this be red and oozing? We read an endless stream of books, articles, posts, reports . . .  We watch movies, videos, and tutorials. We listen to our elder’s stories. That boy who cried wolf . . . well, we know how that ends. The list goes on. We analyze data, note odds and statistics, and create more questions. And the search isn’t always external. Some of us burrow into the recesses of our subconscious, our heart, or our core. Why am I afraid? What will happen if I reveal this part of me?

The manuscript . . .

As fiction writers, we create stories from our minds. We conjure characters from thin air and weave backstory like talented lace-makers. Our stories take place in cities we’ve lived in, places we’d like to see, and worlds beyond our imagination. Plots are spun on the back of memories, experiences, and dreams.

So, where does research fit in? While it’s true that historical and memoir writers couldn’t manage without research, and I’ve never seen a nonfiction manuscript that didn’t benefit from researching gaps in logic or an unexplored perspective, why does the average writer need research to survive?

Well, for one, because research is a cure.

The cure . . .

As a professional editor, I see writers at every stage of the craft suffer from writing ailments. Some are subtle, a mere tickle in the back of the throat. Others hit like the fist of a superbug. (Is that a word? I’ll have to research it.) So, how do you crawl from these depths? By drinking the sweet elixir of research, of course!

Research is the cure for all that ails you. Struggling with a sticky element of the craft? Do your homework, your research. In addition to books written by your favorite writing gurus, online writing advice can get you out of any pickle. Need a second opinion or detail beyond your scope? The world is filled with writers and experts with secrets to share. Is your manuscript suffering from a sickness you don’t recognize? Take the hand of a professional editor, someone with experience diagnosing problems.

Research can even cure the writer’s block blues. Many things can stop a story from flowing. Your aunt Matilda broke her hip and needs round-the-clock care. Your kid has lice. Your boss expects you to, you know, work. These are surface roadblocks. It’s the sickness from a darker place that keeps your story hostage. This place smells like fear. If your characters have stopped speaking to you in clear and distinct voices, writing their perspective will be a struggle. If your setting isn’t alive with tactile edges, you’ll have trouble feeling grounded there. If your plot has holes and threads that never meet, there is reason to feel overwhelmed and intimidated by details hard to follow.

Chances are, you’re stuck because your story isn’t working. Your story isn’t working because there is something you don’t know. Probably a bunch of somethings, a gaggle of somethings, a spawning cluster of disease-riddled . . . Research is the answer.

Don’t believe me? Google it. Let me know what you find.

Just to note, this cure works for planners and pantsers alike. The difference is a matter of timing. One is a treatment, a fix while the disease runs rampant. The other is a vaccine, a preventative measure. (Okay, I shouldn’t watch the news right now.) Let me explain . . . 

The treatment . . .

If you’ve already written sixty-thousand words that are unraveling at the seams, stop. Take a step back. Read through your manuscript from start to finish. Read slowly and take note of where your protagonist’s voice is faint, where your setting falls flat, where you skip entire sentences out of boredom, where plot holes and cut threads pull you from the story with a huh? (Mine look more like a WTF?) Use different colored highlighters or fonts if need be. Character issues could be blue. Plot holes might be yellow. Either way, diagnosing these sick spots will bring you one step closer to the cure.

When your WIP is lit like Times Square, go back to the beginning and tackle one issue at a time. Beside every blue highlight noting a character issue, write a research question that digs deeper. Need an example? When your protagonist was twelve, she found her mother at the bottom of the neighbor’s pool. Five years later, your protagonist wakes from a nightmare of her mother drowning. Sure, she’s distraught—it was an awful nightmare. But what does a person drowning look and sound like? (You might be surprised to learn it sounds like nothing at all, like silence.) For those all in, dig deeper still. What does the body of a drowned person smell like? How does it look after six hours in salt water? What about sixty hours? What if she drowned during an Arizona heat-wave? What if it was late January in Alaska? And don’t forget about your protagonist. That poor girl was scarred for life. What stage of grief is she in? Would she know the signs of suicide? Has she considered the odds of murder?

You can rev up your computer and research for answers at this point, but consider waiting until you’ve completed your long list of questions. There is no point spending hours, days, or weeks researching details that might be changed when you reach page two-sixty-six and realize her mother was actually killed by lightning. Now, that’s a plot hole with a whole other set of questions.

The vaccine . . .

What if you’re just starting a new story? Or you’re a planner still staring out the window while your WIP toils through your mind? Then, the research process is a bit different. In this case, start a research file of questions you’ll research later. By postponing the actual search for info, you remain focused on the task at hand—plotting and planning your story—without getting lost in research details. The point is to spot future ailments before they hit.

Let’s use the same example. If you’ve spent the morning getting to know your protagonist and you realize the death of her mother almost ruined her life until she was saved by a love of baking, make note of all the details she would know. She’d know all the major baking ingredients and how they’re used. She’d know which kitchen appliances are best for baking and which brand names have a good reputation. Maybe she nurtured her love of baking by going to school, taking online courses, or practicing with Grandma. (Fodder for backstory, by the way). She’d have a collection of baking books and a list of go-to YouTubers. (Yes, that is a thing.) Focus on the details your character knows, but you do not.

Again, this is not the time to conduct the research; only take notes on what you’ll research later. Disconnect your router if you have to.

Follow these steps throughout the planning stage, whatever your outline process looks like. I take hundreds of pages of notes on things like character development (every main character), world-building (setting, rules, logistics), and big-picture stuff (plot, premise, theme) before I write word one of a manuscript. But there are many ways to plan or not plan a manuscript—there is no rule book. No matter your process, keep track of the research you’ll want to do later.

Trust me . . .

An online article can give you the information you need to tie that loose thread. Understanding what your characters see, smell, feel, and do, and why they react the way they do, can turn a tongue-tied character into a vibrant Chatty Cathy. A YouTuber can tell you how to bury a body in less than ten minutes (no joke), and a subscription to National Geographic can show you the world in a way you never thought possible.

All this, yet the cure lives in the bonus points. Because even if a piece of information gathered through research doesn’t find a home in your manuscript, there is no way the process didn’t crack open a whole lotta cans. Research will blow your mind. It’ll release the hounds of curiosity and light fires in your subconscious. It’ll make you want to read. It’ll entice you to write. It’ll help you find your voice and make you a better writer.

Trust me, an author who uses research to dig through layers of a manuscript is an author with his butt firmly planted in the chair.

When, exactly, is later?

Some writers like to start the research process after the outlining stage but before writing the story. Some prefer to write the story and come back to research questions later. Either way, your notes will guide you through the research process and keep you from being cursed.

What? When is research a curse?

Research is a curse when you’re addicted to it. Those rabbit holes can look mighty comfy when you’re wallowing in self-doubt. Get in, find the information you need, print or save important articles, and get out. Know when to say thank you and end that interview with your expert. Close your Amazon account—don’t pretend you need that many books to know what downtown Dublin looks like.

Research, on overdose, will cripple you. When you get that naggy voice in your head telling you you’re using research as a distraction, an excuse, or a crutch, give it up.

Feeling better?

Of course, this post should come with a warning of sorts. I am not a doctor, a writer of extreme natural talent, or an editor with a wand. While I do believe that research can get a writer out of almost any craft-related pickle, including writer’s block, there are issues beyond its scope. For those, there is always chocolate and sex.

Don’t believe me? Do your research.

What about you, WU? Do you consider research an addiction? A curse? Can you see it as a cure?