Hello Readers!

This month, I’m discussing the joys of archival research. Does that sound dull or intriguing?

I love biographical fiction, novels based on the lives of actual historical figures. But to write biographical fiction, you have to commit to a great deal of research. Obviously, a Wikipedia entry doesn’t cut it. There are numerous resources on the internet, and you can get a lot more info now at the touch of a keyboard than you could when I was starting out. BUT, internet info is often iffy and sometimes flat out wrong. (And don’t even try AI, which will hallucinate events and make up timelines.)

If you’re lucky, your historical protagonist was prominent enough to have a biography written about them. Even better if there is more than one. The interpretation of events and probably motivations can differ depending on the perspective of the biographer, and you don’t want to get trapped into a single mindset (someone else’s mindset) when writing your novel. Even if quoting the subject directly, a biographer gets to choose the excerpt and present it in a way that supports the portrait they are trying to paint. Of course, as a novelist, you have even greater license to portray a historical figure in the way that tells the best story, but your readers will more than likely want you to get your facts straight.

So how can you discover the nitty-gritty details of a person’s life? How can you “hear” their voice? This is where archival research comes in. I’m currently writing about late nineteenth/early twentieth century members of the medical and academic elite, which means a treasure trove of paper. (And photographs. And in one instance, teeth.)

Archives can be found at universities, private research libraries, historical societies, government facilities, even some businesses. And I’m sure I’ve left some locations out.

So what was the biggest obstacle to accessing this wealth of material? For me, it was imposter syndrome. I’m not a historian. I’m not working on my masters or Ph.D. I found it hard to believe that archivists would take my requests seriously. But my husband (who is a historian) insisted that archivists are pleased when people show interest in their treasures. Still skeptical, I had him walk me through my first requests. And he was right. Archivists are the most welcoming, friendly, and helpful people on the planet.

How do you discover where to look? You can start with the notes and bibliography in a biography. Where did that author locate material? Or, you can just start by googling “person’s name papers” and see if you get lucky. Once you find the archive (or archives) where papers are held, you can search the finding aid, which hopefully is online. (In some archives, these are incredibly well organized and detailed. In others, you have to cast a wider net and look through some stuff that isn’t helpful, but is often interesting anyway.) I’m generally looking at personal and professional correspondence, but there are also often articles, diaries, speeches, meeting notes… far more information than it’s possible to explore.

There is a process to archival research, and while the procedures may differ slightly depending on the location, there are enough similarities that you can grow comfortable pretty quickly.

Once you’ve located a potentially interesting tidbit, you can request it from the archives, sometimes for a nominal cost, often for free, so long as it’s not lengthy. An archivist may very well scan the letter and send you a pdf. Like magic!

If your queries exceed the allotted number of scanned requests, you can go visit the archives. And this is where it really gets fun. Archives (and rare books/manuscripts) are often held in beautiful libraries. You schedule a visit and request that boxes and/or folders be pulled for you. Then, you travel.

When you arrive, there are fairly standard rules. No food. No backpacks or purses. Lockers are provided. Laptops are usually allowed, and cell phones. You can take pictures and notes. (Sometimes pictures/copies are not allowed. For example, patient records or student work.) You can only bring in pencils, not pens. They will bring you one box at a time, and you have to keep the contents in the original order. Then you get to dive into tangible relics of the past.

You won’t always find what you hope is there. But you may find surprises that will take you down different paths, or give you insights into your characters that you couldn’t have gotten from published biographies. And when you do find that elusive piece of information that you’d hoped might be there, you celebrate!

Here I am at a recent visit to Yale’s archives looking up info for my work-in-progress.

S.C.C.