Should fantasy writers research their stories? The simple answer is it depends.

There, can’t make it clearer than that!

For the benefit of this article, I’d like you to consider The Fantasy Writer’s Research Continuum. Think of it as a scale. At one end you have authors whose research is so thorough they will spend inordinate amounts of time investigating topics, probably disappearing down research rabbit holes in the process. At the other end, there are authors who dismiss research completely, it’s irrelevant to them. At this end of the continuum are authors who argue that because fantasy fiction is entirely made up, the only valuable commodity is the author’s imagination.

Allow my good friend, Trudie Skies, author of the original and highly imaginative Cruel Gods series, to set out this position on the subject.

“One reason why I enjoy writing secondary world fantasy is because I can make up whatever I like. I don’t want to spend hours researching how horses work when I can create my own magical creatures that operate on whatever logic I choose. There are some things I’d research, specifically when it comes to bodily injuries, but no one is going to call me out on getting my own magic system wrong, so long as it makes sense.”

There’s much to be lauded about this approach. Why limit your imagination by restricting it to things that already (or once did) exist? With such a unique and inventive imagination, who better to define this end of the Research Continuum? The Cruel Gods series defines world building on an epic scale with its thirteen realms. Yes, you heard me, thirteen! Each one is so different, so vivid. And all furnished from one imagination. It’s sickening! 😏

At the committed-to-research end of the continuum, it’s worth quoting George R.R. Martin who said this at a WorldCon recently, “Bad fantasy writers don’t do any research, but I do a great deal of research. There are fans out there who will call you over any mistake. You have to know about the architecture of castles, and the difference between a trebuchet and a catapult, and a crossbow and a longbow, and what kind of fabrics they used on medieval clothing, and when the zipper was invented. Hint: not the Middle Ages.”

I suppose when you’re as established as Mr Martin, you can afford to make such hard and fast judgements. Personally, I’d question the right to label a writer as “bad” in this context. But, moving on…

Elsewhere on this Research Continuum are authors for whom research serves a specific purpose, perhaps we might position Brandon Sanderson somewhere in the middle with this observation. “The calling of a fiction writer, particularly a fantasy writer, is to know a little bit about a lot of things–just enough to be dangerous, so to speak. Generally, I dig into specific topics when the need arises, then do more ‘cast out the net’ general reading for ideas the rest of the time. For Mistborn, I researched canals, eunuchs, and London during the mid-1800’s.” In other words, you find out information about what is needed to make your ideas work.

My good friend Derek Power, author of the Filthy Henry series, the Irish fairy detective, provides another example to illustrate the value of specificity in research.

“Research plays a bigger part in my Filthy Henry novels than some folk would think. Since I’m using Celtic myths and legends in a modern setting, I am always looking for a fairy creature or ancient tale that I can work into the world, mostly so when folk then look up the old legends they can go “Aaahhhh, that’s funky.”. But because Dublin city is such a huge part of the books, I regularly walk the streets looking for elements to flag in the books. Like the ornate faces on some lampposts in Temple Bar or the tiny door to nowhere on Dame Street. It gives people something to look for if they walk through the city after reading my books.”

Derek’s stories are set in the real world, its urban fantasy, so research serves as a means to establish credibility. What I love about Derek’s stories, apart from the endless giggling they provoke, is the way he twists Celtic myth to inform his plots.

Another of my writer friends, LL MacRae, also sits squarely in the centre of the Research Continuum.

“My research varies depending on the subject! I love researching flora and fauna to ground the more fantastical elements of world building and give them a sense of believability. But for parts of the story that aren’t as meaningful, I can be a lot more vague and hand-wavy. If a rough explanation fills the hole, that’ll do for me.”

As Lauren emphasizes, research provides credibility to the fantastic. I especially like how she uses flora and fauna to do that; it’s such an original take. Its cleverness extends beyond the credible for me; it ensures a certain USP (Unique Selling Point) to the story, a quality that makes it stand out from all the others. If you’ve ever read Lauren’s work, you get a very strong sense of the natural world. I don’t know anyone else who does that. (Lauren can also claim a new definition of ‘vagueness’ – “hand-wavy”. OED please take note. 😉)

Further along the Research Continuum, I’ll introduce Scottish historic fantasy author David Craig whose use of research is all about credibility. “As Resurrection Men and its sequels are set in the real world (19th century Scotland), I did a lot of research on this period. This was important to present as realistic a picture of 19th century Scotland, Glasgow in particular, to balance the supernatural elements. To aid on this research, I looked up maps and pictures of that time and read up on fashions and customs. This all helped present a fleshed-out Victorian Glasgow and hopefully helps sell the supernatural elements.”

David’s use of the word ‘balance’ is critical here; his research needs to equal the fantastic elements in order to make them real. Turning a 19^th century Glasgow into a city where the supernatural exists in myriad forms is one where the author encourages the reader to reconsider what they think they know. To do that, to be so persuasive, takes consistent reworking of reality.

I will admit my own experience sits at the furthest end of the Research Continuum. It is critical for me. If you think about Trudie Sky’s comments earlier, you might see why. My stories are all firmly set in the real world and, as such, credibility is everything. I blame Raymond Feist. Some twenty years ago I read Faerie Tale, his story of an American family who start a new life in a rural backwater and encounter mythical beings there. Feist used a lot of folklore (much of it British) to inform his story, and it was this credibility that stirred my writer’s soul.

“Could there be any truth in these myths?” That’s the question readers ask and are made to wonder. A few years later, in discussion with the amazing Dyrk Ashton as we discussed his Paternus series, we both agreed that we easily get lost in research to answer this question. Dyrk’s plot involved every pantheon possible in his battling gods and research gave the story enormous credibility and respect. We talked about the challenge involved in avoiding information dumping and how we integrated knowledge without appearing to do so. The conclusion, we decided, came down to characterisation and world building, the latter especially.

Let me illustrate. My grimdark tale, The Bastard from Fairyland, is firmly based on British myth I spent ten years researching (and a lot of different versions of the same story!). Much of the plot arises out of information gleaned from my research trip to Glastonbury, a chance to talk to local people about their knowledge of these stories. I found out about Arthur’s Hunting Path. Four thousand years ago, four huge earthworks were created in Somerset that were not just the same distance apart in a quadrilateral but were aligned with astronomical reference points too. A phenomenon that equalled Stonehenge in my opinion. Why did no one know about it?

This phenomenon, the myths around it, the locations that remain, all fed into the plot – research drove the story. Without it, the story would have struggled to survive – as it had in all the other iterations. I hope that’s why you’ll see why I consider my stories find a home at one end of the Research Continuum. The vital factor is not just credibility, it’s how they connect the story to existing lore. When I research British folklore (which I do, A LOT!) I made notes (so many!!) in anticipation of using that information at some point in a story. I think of it as investment – just without the money. 😉

To come back to my original question: should fantasy writers research their stories? I hope you’ll see why I maintain it all depends. Begin by deciding the tone of your story – is it set in a real or secondary world? How similar is it to the world we know?

Beyond that you might ask yourself, does research inform your imagination by giving you ideas you might not otherwise have? Does it add degrees of credibility – and how many degrees are important to you? For some of my writer friends, I know they are particularly interested in certain periods of history and their settings reflect this passion. After all, if you have lots of ‘ambient’ knowledge, why not use it?

But if research isn’t important, don’t let others distract or discourage you. After all, the whole idea of fantasy is that it is fantastic, it does not need to exist; except in the head of that deranged group of people we label ‘Author’.