Some of you may know that I have been working on this silly project called The Histories on and off for a while now. For those not familiar with it, I’ll just point you to the very accurate description on the wiki.
This project is now closing in on 30,000 words, and it features content spanning centuries, numerous real and tru-real subjects and peoples, and events both grand and minor (many of which are legitimately real or extrapolated from things someone thinks is real). There are jokes and quirky references, and there are serious linkages to real history.
All of that takes a lot of work and time, and so I figured I could do a fun little thing where I tell you about my writing process for every entry.
So, let’s talk about writing process, shall we?
Every entry in The Histories follows most or all of the following steps:
- Extrapolate an idea based on what is known about the subject
- Research, research some more, and research some more again, even for the most minor of details.
- Write, research, write, research, and write some more
- Check Everything
Here’s what these steps entail:
Step One: Extrapolate from the Subject
The Histories begins with the subject of the entry. Thus far, this has been a real person, and most of those people are folks I know because they’re friends, family, or acquaintances. When I’m able to, I try to find some detail about that person that I can use to extrapolate a new history. In some cases, that information is already known to me; in others, I have to do a bit of digging. And in still others, as in the case when someone buys an entry for someone else, I try to get some information about that person to make the final product more personal. This happened with my entry for Maryan Florio, whose husband provided me some fun details that made the final product extra special.
Take my entry for Stina Leicht, a renowned writer who happens to be one of my good friends. The main idea came from one of Stina’s books, Persephone Station, which features a bar where criminals hang out and a lot of space opera bits and bobbles. I spun this into a story about criminal elements in a gritty space opera universe. Thus, Stina Leicht became an infamous and long-lived criminal who took control of a paramilitary Jumpbike gang. Cool stuff!
Entries like Stina’s are probably the easiest to write because everything that follows this first step can be invented (i.e., I can skip to Step Three). The future doesn’t exist yet, and that means nothing needs to be grounded in something real other than the general feeling of “this could be possible” (or, more often, not that feeling at all; this project is ridiculous…). That said, I do tend to poke around in random historical periods to come up with names and other references; this usually doesn’t add much time compared to other research I do.
But what happens when I’m dealing with the past or present? We get to…
Step Two: Excessive and Questionably Useful Research
If I decide to write an entry in which the individual has linkages to the past, I need to do a significant amount of research. You might even say it’s excessive for something that measures out to 500-1000 words. My goal is to situate a person’s story in a real history even if the story I plan to tell will diverge considerably from what we know. There are wizards and assassins and undead beings and mad scientists and more in The Histories, and a portion of those are deeply linked to real moments in human history.
To pull that off, I need to unpack historical timelines, identify small details about events or objects so I can place the person in a real moment or place, study up on major concepts and theories and ideas and movements, and on and on.
Let’s take a look at a recent entry: Maryan Florio Rogers, The Des Moines Architect (1988-2132). Here’s a list of some of the things I researched:
- Des Moines, Iowa in the 80s, 90s, and 2000s
- Ballroom dancers
- Italian names from the 60s and 70s
- The architecture of Des Moines, including its most famous buildings and their respective architects.
- Mid-Century Modern architecture and architectural theory/theorists
- Architecture journals/publishers and academic programs
- The Presidential Medal of Freedom
- Portugal, Portuguese names, and Portuguese architecture (especially its contemporary movements)
- LEGO design competitions
- Skyscrapers and building times
- Iowa-based newspapers
Almost all of those things made their way into the entry, with some appearing in fairly prominent references. At one point, I had around 20 tabs open in Chrome — and it is not uncommon for me to open dozens upon dozens of pages trying to find small details to help ground my ideas. We’re talking random Census data, government documents dating back centuries, historical texts and peer reviewed papers, documentaries, and more. Heck, I once spend 3 hours trying to figure out how to scientifically justify the Bermuda Triangle in cryptozoological terms just so I could reference a part of that information once.
For entries rooted in some real history, I spend most of my time on the historical research. Even if the story I tell is blatantly speculative, such as the entry I wrote for Paul Weimer, I want there to be enough real world references for that story to almost feel like it could have happened or been part of human myth or folklore. The story might be funny or very weird, but it should feel like you’re reading something written by someone who believes the story is real.
The research process is usually conducted alongside the writing process. I’ll jump back and forth between them so I can get Story Point A finished before figuring out what information I need for Story Point B, etc. Combined, the research and writing portions can take several hours depending on the depth and complexity of each part. The more speculative the entry, the less intense the research and the more playful the writing.
And that brings me to…
Step Three: Write the Damn Thing
This is often the most difficult but exciting part of the whole affair! For the most part, writing these entries is pretty straightforward. I either have research to draw on or I need to invent everything out of whole cloth. The question is always: which invented bits do I need?
Some of this is sorted by the rough format of the entries. They’re intended to feel like starter wiki entries (hence all entries living on a wiki). Currently, that involves some version of this format:
- Name, “Nickname,” and Lifespan (in years)
- Introductory section describing the subject’s birth and/or their youth and/or what they’re known for.
- 3-4 paragraphs covering the major events of their story.
- A concluding statement about their death, later life, or both.
Since all of the entries could be expanded in the future, the first entry is always fairly direct and relatively simple. I might hint at complicated ideas such as conspiracies or elaborate business arrangements, etc., but those won’t get addressed at this first stage. Instead, I try to treat these the same way Wikipedia does its first section for major historical figures or events: what is this thing, what are the main things you need to know, and what were the results of it?
If I don’t require much research, this takes up all of my time for each entry. After I’m done, I move to the final step…
Step Four: Check Everything Because You Have To
After I’ve written everything down, I do a quick check to make sure the story is in order. I might go back to do some additional research or fine tune one of the references. I might also add something that will help bridge two ideas together or create better flow between paragraphs or sentences.
And then I proofread everything and post it to the wiki.
And that’s it. That’s the rough process. It’s a lot of work and can take up many hours of my time, but it’s also a lot of fun.
Thanks for reading! If you’re interested in supporting the project, there’s a whole page about it here (including how to have an entry added for you). At the very least, you should head on over and read the various entries. Let me know what you think!
