The last couple of weeks have been pretty exhausting. Everyone in the family has been sick, with lots happening generally. All I wanted after work yesterday was to crawl to our spare room where the late afternoon sun warms the bed and rest my weary body – and I did!

As good as that felt, can you believe that just hours later information relating to plot lines and scenes for various manuscripts started ticking through my head? And maybe this sounds crazy, but I started thinking about how much I enjoy searching out facts and gluing together the foundational elements of a story. Research!

Perhaps that’s why I find writing historical fiction especially satisfying. It’s like a constant tension of discovery and never quite knowing enough about something – or thinking you do, only to later discover another fragment of  ‘evidence’ that completely disrupts all the strands you’ve so carefully aligned about a particular period or event.

Embarking on such searches can create a peculiar cycle of frustration, exhilaration and self-doubt.
“Did I really read/record that correctly?”
“I’m sure there was a connection! Why can’t I find it now?”
“I simply cannot find that piece of information so critical to this scene. Should I rewrite?”
“Every account I’ve found is different!”

Needles in haystacks?

In the past there have been times when I’ve covered the entire floor of the office with maps; eye witness accounts of a particular historical event; shipping records; genealogies and any other relevant document, with me planted tail up nose down in the middle, trying to find that one link between them all – a date or event that connects every point. And then, success!

That, to me, grants licence to dance manically about the room and holler for anyone in earshot to come share the excitement. (This usually incites a “the woman’s crazy” look from the family.) Then, with that one dot, I start tracing a thread to the next point; the next challenge.

Is this madness? Does it prove that writers are essentially suckers for punishment? I actually believe we all do this on one level or another, seeking out those points of connection that provide “That’s it!” moments for a searching heart. These can be critical markers in our lives.

Identity: it’s our history, our now, our future. Even if we’re quite secure with ourselves, I think most of us recognise that self-discovery is a constant. Whatever our self-perception, just like connecting those dots in research there’s always a thread that leads us to a new place – a new discovery. This can be releasing for those struggling with identity, an assurance that there is so much more to come. And for those comfortable with themselves, it can be like adding strength to a beautiful structure.

Let’s never give up on chasing those threads.