I love doing research when I’m working on a novel, and not just because it’s a great way to procrastinate. Research can be as vital to a work of fiction as it is to nonfiction. It fleshes out your backstory. It helps you make serendipitous connections. It lets you know–truly know–your characters and setting.Guest Blogger: Katherine Applegate
I love doing research when I’m working on a novel, and not just because it’s a great way to procrastinate. Research can be as vital to a work of fiction as it is to nonfiction. It fleshes out your backstory. It helps you make serendipitous connections. It lets you know–truly know–your characters and setting.
Forty years ago, when I was a young writer, and enjoying some success with my first novel, La Guerre, Yes Sir! (Éditions du jour, 1968), I was invited to write a story for the Canadian Broadcasting Corporation (CBC). I wanted to write about the moment that I felt, for the very first time, that I was my own person—not my mother’s son, not my father’s son—but me, petit Roch.
I first wrote about Abraham Lincoln ages ago. My book, Lincoln: A Photobiography (Clarion, 1987), was researched during the 1980s, and in 1988, it won the Newbery Medal—the first nonfiction book to receive that award in more than 30 years.
“I think you should write a book called Green.” One evening in 2007, I received an email from Neal Porter. He wrote, “Here’s a title for you and Pete. Green.” Neal Porter is my editor at Macmillan’s Roaring Brook Press. We’ve worked together on each of the 15 books I’ve written and illustrated. In the past, most of the ideas for the books have originated in my journal. This was the first time we began with just a title.
In this post, Sharon Creech considers her inspirations for her latest middle-grade novel, The Great Unexpected (Harper 2012), described in School Library Journal as “part realistic fiction, part mystery, and part ghost story.” Enjoy!
Snakes are tricky creatures, both to photograph and to handle. Their long thin bodies and surface-hugging habits don't necessarily create the best photographic compositions, and their nervous natures don’t permit easy interaction, especially with those of us carrying cameras.