The Outlandish Companion - Diana Gabaldon [156]
However, many historical novelists have the opposite problem. They enjoy the research so much that they never get around to actually writing the book. One question that I hear a lot at writers conferences is “How do you know when you’ve done enough research, and are ready to write?”
Well… you don’t. Or rather, I don’t. There’s always more that could be found out, after all.
Idiosyncrasy and personal preference enter the picture here; some writers feel that they must know almost everything about a time period before they begin writing; others, not so much. Personally, I began doing the writing and the research concurrently, and finding that satisfactory, have kept on doing it that way.
One good, quick way of getting an overview of a time period or geographical location is to check the kids’ section of the library. Kids’ books are a) usually short, b) always readable, c) present the most salient facts in a condensed space, and d) tend to include the “fun” (i.e., interesting) details of a subject—which are, not incidentally, the sort of details that most appeal to novelists.
Beyond the children’s section, look for popular accounts.1 These overview books are ones that you probably do want to read all the way through (though skimming is perfectly all right; as long as you know what sort of information is in this book, you can always go back later and look up things in more detail). So it’s worth choosing texts that are reasonably entertaining.
Take note of more particular or esoteric texts, but as a general principle, put these aside for later reference, when you have a better idea as to what you really need.
Locating Specifics
Sometimes you will know that you require a great deal of specific information on one or more particular areas of interest. For example, once having cast Claire Randall as a healer, I knew I was going to require quite a lot of information on herbs and botanical medicine—because that was the only effective medical therapy available in the eighteenth century.
Consequently, I began collecting “herbals”—guides to herbs and their uses. I now have some thirty-odd herbals, ranging from Chinese herbal medicine to Native American herbology and beyond (see “Don’t Try This at Home”). Have I read all these books? Not on your tintype. I have, however, looked at them enough to know when to consult The Peterson Field Guide to Medicinal Plants (published in the 1980s) and when to look at Culpeper’s Complete Herbal (published in the seventeenth century).
That’s why such books are called “reference” books; they aren’t intended to be read word for word; they’re intended to supply specific information easily and quickly.
Luckily, reference books exist on a huge number of topics. Look in the bibliographies of your “overview” books for more specialized references. Browse the relevant sections of libraries and bookstores; always thumb through the stacks on remainder tables.
Another good source of regional or historical references—many of them quite specialized, and not easily available elsewhere—are the bookshops attached to museums and national parks. Particularly in the United States, National Park Service bookshops often stock immensely helpful references on the plant and animal life of the region, plus historical accounts published by local researchers (which may not be available through regular book outlets).
If you’re not in a position to visit such places personally, try telephoning; the staffers are often very helpful, and some shops may even have lists or catalogs of available materials which they can send you.
Finally, a useful source of esoteric historical information is the Dover catalog. Dover is a publishing company specializing in reprints of material in the public domain, and they often have inexpensive facsimile reprints of very old material (one of