So
the_ivorytower asked:
How much research do you wind up doing for your books? Particularly the Confederation books, since there's so much military "stuff" in it? What are the kinds of things that you think to research, and what are the kinds of things you'd *never* think to research, but you get poked about either by your friends, editors, or both? I'm deeply curious.
As my grandmother used to say...
How Will You Learn Anything If You Don't Look It Up Yourself?
When I pitch a book, I pitch a story.
"So Torin's adjusting, more or less, to life outside the Corps and becoming a CSO and then there's pirates and she has to call on her military training to defeat them, blurring the line between civilian and Marine. Oh, and it's a love story."
That was Truth of Valor. (There would have been one extra detail in the pitch but I don't want to give it away to anyone who hasn't read the book.) Clearly, it's not a very detailed story but I've been working with the same editor for over 20 books so she knows what I'm capable of.
Once I've sold the book, I start researching. For the Valor Books, the enormous bulk of the research was done for book one. While I do a lot of my in-process, need-a-fact research on the Internet, I like to start with books. Books on how the Marine Corps functions (Tom Clancy has an excellent factual book on the Corps, dry but excellent), books about how wars (battles, skirmishes, campaigns) work, memoirs by Marines. Given the times, I also read a lot of blogs written by Marines. The USMC has an impressive web and paper presence - which is why I used them instead of the Royal Marines as I'd originally intended. Sometimes research can drive the story.
I do my research notes in longhand on the back of old galley pages because that takes enough time the details actually make it into long term memory. By the time I finish, I have a stack of paper. By the time I finished the first five Torin books, the stack was about an inch thick (in all fairness, I write large when I take notes because I'd like to be able to read them again) About ten percent of the information I've gathered actually makes it into the books but, if I do my job right, the rest provides a foundation for the story to rest on.
While I write the actual story, things come up that need to be spot researched. Like, what's a spicy Earth dish that the di'Taykan could have decided is the best thing ever? Or what exactly is the effect of spontaneous decompression on a human body? Sometimes, I ask my flist to talk me through high school physics. I don't need to be poked by editors or friends to research things, the story pokes me.
Of course the problem with the internet is that one thing leads to another and suddenly you find yourself seventeen links in reading an article that has nothing to do with what you're researching. Which is fine if you have the time to faff about adding to your store of knowledge. Less fine if you still have to make the day's word count and are running out of day.
When doing research, never underestimate actually talking to people who do what you're writing about. This isn't so much useful as necessary when writing Urban Fantasy. In Blood Lines, the third Vicki Nelson book - or as we call it around here, the mummy book - I sat down and picked the brains of a friend who worked at one of the city's detention centers. When I needed to know what was out in front of the police station in London, Ontario for Blood Trail, I called the station and asked the officer who answered. He took the phone outside and spent ten minutes describing things. (slow crime day, I guess) I don't ever want to get stopped by the police in Vancouver because I'm sure my name is on a list somewhere as the crazy lady who called to ask what would happen if a handless body was found in the water at VanTerm. When I was writing Blood Price, I called the Catholic Center in Toronto. I explained who I was and that I had a vampire waiting for demon in a graveyard on Easter Saturday and I needed the liturgical Latin for Christ is risen. The very nice nun who'd answered the phone thought for a moment, then moved the phone away from her mouth and yelled, "Father, this one's for you!"
It's a cliche, but everything is grist for the mill. So when the cats stuff a dead chipmunk in under the back edge of the hot tub and you can't find it as it decomposes, remember the smell. Odds are good you'll need it later...