Research, Writing, and Visual Cues

When it comes to writing novels, I don't follow a strict progression of tasks. Let me explain.

• Some writers do all their research before they write the first creative word.
• Some writers do quite a bit of research to get a solid overview before they begin writing, then continue to research while they write, as they discover they need specific details.
• Some writers make it all up, without any need for research.

Because I write historical novels, I need to do research, so I don't fall into the third group of writers.

I don't always know what I need to know when I begin a project, so I can't research everything before I write. Therefore, I don't belong in the first category, either.

I'm among those in the middle category above: I get the background covered, start writing, then fill in the gaps when they come along. I think of this as first, using the shotgun approach, then using a rifle to target the specifics.

Once I've identified certain facts, I find that I need constant reminders of them. I'm afflicted with ADHD, remember?

Because I am a visual-learner, I depend on visual cues to remember these key items as I write the current novel. I make several charts or graphs, which are actually poster-board sheets I hang on my walls or attach to the front door with magnets. These sheets have various types of information on them.

One sheet shows a column with a rough timeline of the major battles of the eastern theater of the Civil War. My characters are not much concerned with the war battles west of Virginia. A column on the rest of the page notes how my characters were impacted by these events. I should have used more space on the timeline side, as the second column needs more room. Oh well.

Another sheet reminds me of which military units are aggregated to make up larger units, that is: company > regiment > brigade > division > corps > army. I hope I got that right, as I'm not looking at the sheet.

A third sheet shows the configuration and changes there-to of the eastern fighting forces of the Confederacy. The death of major commanders often meant the entire army got reorganized. As units received casualties, they often were combined. New regiments were raised and places found for them.

My intent isn't to document these changes, but to show where they impact my characters. You see, I have assigned most of my characters to actual historical Civil War units. In only one case have I chosen to create a bogus cavalry company.

If Character A started out in actual Company Z of Regiment 1 of the infantry, and his unit was wiped out and combined with another after Battle 100, he might write home about it. If his Company didn't actually participate in a certain battle, I can't write a scene showing him in the heat of the fray.

Alas, I discovered I need to dump a scene I wrote before I learned that a character's historical unit wasn't at First Manassas. Part of the problem came about because I hadn't isolated the company he would join before I wrote the scene. I knew his regiment was in the battle, so I assumed my character's company would be. Only after I picked the company in which he would enlist did I learn that, for whatever reason, it hadn't been on the field of battle. Erk!

I know all this sounds like an awful lot of work. To be truthful, it is! However, my method makes it possible for me to function at least halfway like a human being, and to let loose the stories rolling around in my head. That's worth the extra work!

Let me know if you think the stories are worth the pain, or if I am just too weird for this world.

Harry or Ezra: The Problem of Minor Characters

I'm in the final stages of creating a new print edition for The Man from Shenandoah. As I was checking my personal copy of the first version for places I had marked that had errors of one type or another, such as a typographical error, misspelled word, point-of-view mistake, and the like, I came across a startling fact with vital importance to the story I'm writing now, but that's issue is for another post. The most important issue was a name that caught my eye, after I had created the portable document file (pdf) version to upload to CreateSpace. I stopped work as though I had been struck by lightning, and did not upload the pdf.

It was the name of a minor character. He'll never be a major character. He'll never have a book of his own. Why did his name strike me with such intensity that I put off the upload until I had a moment to do more research?

Because I was not sure if the name was correct.

You see, I remembered that I had changed it in the past. I knew at one point I had called him Ezra, if only on the character card bearing the names of his brothers and sisters. I had to be absolutely sure the name showing up in the new print edition of The Man from Shenandoah was the same name he'd carried in Spinster's Folly, or any other place he'd appeared in the "Owen Family Saga."

I've finished my research, and it shows that this young squirt carried the name "Harry" in Spinster's Folly as well as in the original print copy of The Man from Shenandoah. His name changed to Ezra in the ebook version, though.

[Marsha heaves a huge sigh]

I'll have to fix that sometime, but I won't rush right out and do it today. With a cast of hundreds of characters in "The Owen Family Saga," it's not a terribly important blemish, although it does raise a rash on my internal editor.

The upshot of this research expedition is that even minor characters can cause problems for a writer if the writer is inconsistent in keeping track of the masses. Harry Ezra Morgan, you're a snot-nosed little troublemaker!
~~~

Have you ever come across a name change in a novel as you're reading it? Did it irritate you, or spoil the story in your mind? Or were you compassionate and forgiving to the harried author?

Tell me what you think about typos and other errors in printed or electronic books. How do they color your reading experience?

Thank you!

Something more to enjoy from Spinster's Folly

The course of writing a novel doesn't always progress on one continuous, straight path. Sometimes, you might be running along, working on Chapter 14, and a character speaks up with a tidbit of information that has to go into Chapter 2. That means a detour is in order, so you must jog over to a trail that takes you back to that place in the story so you can put it in. Then, while you're returning to the place where you left off, you might notice a character waving his arms at you to get your attention for a scene that has to be written in Chapter 9.

It doesn't always happen this way, even to the same author writing another novel, but it happens often enough that one has to be prepared to accept the delay, instead of being dismayed when such a thing does occur.

With that explanation, let me offer part of a scene that Julia Owen demanded that I write for Chapter 2.
~~~

Feeling the overwhelming fatigue brought on by two days of mourning, Julia Owen only half listened to her husband tell her his plan to leave early Thursday morning on a three-day journey to sell beeves. Getting to sleep was of higher importance than staying awake until Rod ran out of steam, turned on his side, and began to snore. She hoped this was not a night when Rod felt amorous. She had barely been able to go through the motions of her chores today, and had no strength left to spare for her husband's needs.

Then a question worked its way into the forefront of her mind. She opened one eye, waited for Rod to take a breath, and asked, "Why are you herding cows down to Chester Bates this week? I recall his letter made an offer to trade them for wheat. He won't be harvestin' for a month or more."

"I have a pressing matter to take up in that country, and I reckon it won't wait until then." Rod scratched his chest above the neck of his nightshirt. "I figure I may as well make one trip as two. Chester will bring us the wheat."

She whispered, "If you're goin' after James, that's entirely the wrong direction." Pain at the unexpected loss of her son made her body quiver.

"I know that, woman." Rod's voice had taken on the soft gruff tone he used in tender moments when he felt vulnerable.

Annoyance that he didn't expand his answer drove Julia to shift her weight, rise on her elbow, and open both eyes to stare down at him. "What aren't you tellin' me?"

After a long moment, Rod turned his eyes away and said, "I have an errand."

"Roderick Owen, don't you be speakin' nonsense to me. What errand takes you away from work at this season?"

When his hand flew to his head, she barked at him, "Don't be a-worryin' that scab or it won't never heal. What's the truth?"

"It's a little errand for Marie," he admitted, tucking his hand under the covers.

"Marie?" Surprised, Julia almost missed Rod's failure to explain himself further. When she had gathered her wits sufficiently to notice his silence, she poked him in the ribs. "What business does the girl have in the Cuchara country?"

Rod sighed. "She accused me of neglecting her welfare. She wants a husband."

"No!" Julia sat up.

"She made it plain she's woman-grown and expects me to get her one."

She looked at Rod. "You're not--"

Rod cut her off. "She said young Tom is twenty. I had no notion he'd got to that age."

Julia shook her head and sighed in turn. "Your matchmaking has an ill reputation." She sank back onto the bed. "Does she have her cap set for Tom Morgan?"

Rod shifted one of his legs. "I've had him in mind for years."

"I asked does Marie want him?"

He shifted the other leg. "She didn't say me nay." After another long pause, he continued, "I'll know more when I get the two in the same room."

"What?" Julia sat up again, her back stiff.

"Julie, shh."

"You're takin' my daughter down country with a passel of cows?"
~~~

Copyright 2012 Marsha Ward

I hope you enjoyed this little digression. The novel is coming along well, with over 75% written. I'm lining up "beta readers," who will each give the finished manuscript the once over, and offer me suggestions for places that need beefing up, or toning down, or deleting altogether. In the meantime, I have a cover designer working with me on the novel's cover, which is going to be spectacular. When it's all put together, I'll launch Spinster's Folly with a Book Blog Tour and other fun stuff.

Thank you for visiting. If you wish, please leave me a comment. Every writer needs feedback!

Finding Character Names

I've got a unique collection of character names. I never run out. Someday, in some book, I will actually use them as names for villains.

Want to know where I get this endless list from?

Spammers. Those who send me emails that end up in my spam folder. Their names are so great, especially for villainous characters: Dacia Ramonita. Concepcion Griselda. Griselda Concepcion. Ramonita Dacia.

See there, I got four names just from the last two spammers who tried to sell me bogus Viagra. Like I need that stuff!

More from Spinster's Folly

Here's a bit more from my forthcoming novel, Spinster's Folly, for your enjoyment:

Marie slid from the saddle into Mr. Alderson's arms. She stumbled a bit, but with his aid, she recovered herself.

Mr. Alderson clasped her tightly, pressing kisses on her brow, her cheeks, then finally, on her lips. Marie responded, relief at getting away clean feeding her fervor. At last, they broke apart and looked at each other.

“I am so gratified that you came,” Mr. Alderson said. “We really should be on our way.” He hugged Marie again, then whispered, “My companions may miss me. I'm not sure they were asleep when I left the camp.”

A tingle of fear swept down Marie's spine. “Let's leave now,” she agreed.

Marie remounted with a boost from her swain, then he got up on his horse, signaled with his head the direction they would take, and they left the meadow for the path through the trees and out of the Owen claims. Soon they found the well-traveled road, and made their way north.
~~~

It appears that Marie's feeling of relief at being free of her odious situation is mixed with fear of being caught. What situation in your own life could be akin to Marie's?

Don't be shy in commenting about anything else you wish. You don't need to answer the question posed above.

I'm ready to write again

Yes, it's true. I'm feeling very good, and although I have a huge life project that will be going on for several months, I WILL WRITE. In the meantime, please enjoy this little tidbit from the upcoming Spinster's Folly.

Marie tiptoed across the plank bridge toward the stable. She still hadn't decided whether to take her black riding horse or Bess, the gentle mare she'd ridden on the Cuchara expedition. Both were good mounts, but the remembrance of Bess's easy gait and comfortable ride weighed heavily in her favor. Besides, the black could be uppity of a morning, and Bess never was. In the end, Marie chose the more comfortable horse, and led Bess from the darkness of the stable so she could tie her bundle behind the saddle.

Do I have all I'll need? she questioned herself before she mounted. She'd brought no trinkets or baubles, but only a change of clothes, the cooking utensils she'd selected earlier in the day, the poke weighing heavily where she'd hidden it inside her bodice, and food and water for the journey. She left behind a letter, written on the sly, saying she was heading north with "my own true love," and that the next time anyone from the homestead saw her, she would "be a married woman."

Once in the saddle atop Bess's broad back, she surveyed the meadow, with the embers of all the campfires scattered across it, looking for the surest route through them. If she bent her way south around the Bates's camp, then between the Campbells and the Hilbrands, she should soon be out of harm's way.

Gently putting her heels to the horse's sides, she sat forward, and Bess moved out into the night, nickering softly.

"Oh hush, Bess," Marie whispered. Perhaps she should have blindfolded the mare and led her? It's too late for that, she acknowledged to herself, and merely patted the mare's neck and whispered soft encouragement.

Once she heard voices, and froze, reining Bess to a halt. She listened, and located the sounds as coming from the far side of the meadow. A couple up late, romancing? She couldn't tell, as no clear words came to her ears. Judging the late-night chatterers to be no threat to her, she clucked to Bess, and got the animal moving again. In only a few moments more, she would be through the visitors' camps, and well away.

The Secret Projects Unveiled

I've been hinting all over the Internet about being engaged in a special or secret project. Well, I've finished it, and I'm back to writing Spinster's Folly.

What was I doing?

I was learning how to convert and upload manuscripts to the Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing website. I then did the conversions and uploading of my three novels, several short stories, and a couple of special collections. See the results here.

Why did I delay this vital step in making my work available to huge segments of the reading public in the United States, the UK, and Germany? First of all, I had been told it was complicated and difficult. Secondly, I told myself I needed to finish Spinster's Folly before I learned how to do something else.

Then it became apparent to me that such a delay was silly, and in fact, was cutting into potential sales and extra income that I need. Once I determined that I should wipe out my folly, I decided to investigate the difficulty factor. Lo and behold, I discovered that with free software and careful attention to details (which I love), the process was well within my skill set.

Therefore, I converted and uploaded all three novels to the Kindle stores, as well as uploading Trail of Storms to Smashwords.com. Now all the novels are available to a much larger audience, and, I'm happy to report, there are sales being made!

Heeding the sage advice of one of my indie-publishing mentors, JA Konrath, I also put up several short stories and a couple of collections, including a sampler of chapters from the three novels of The Owen Family Saga. There will be more bundles in various configurations in the future.

 

Q & A: Light a shuck

Q: At the end of the first chapter of Ride to Raton, Rod Owen tells his son James that until he can get free of his pride and anger, he should "light a shuck for someplace else." What does that mean?

A: In the days before electrification, once the sun went down, it got DARK. In the inky blackness of a moonless night, one couldn't travel much without a lantern or a light of some kind. If someone went visiting and forgot to take a lantern in case they were out past dark, they might be offered a twist of a dried corn shuck (husk) or two, which, when set afire, would provide enough light to get them on their way until their eyes could adjust to the darkness. The term "light a shuck" came to mean to leave one place for another, and also, to leave in a hurry, so as not to waste the light from the fast-burning corn shuck.