Your 1760s character just said “awesome” and you’ve lost your reader. Creating authentic historical characters is harder than it looks, especially when you’re trying to make them feel real without sounding like time travelers. I’ve been wrestling with this challenge while writing about colonial Pennsylvania, and here’s how I actually learned to bring these people to life.

A Lifetime of Exposure

My education in colonial authenticity started in 1976. I was a kid during the bicentennial, and colonial history was everywhere. Fort Ticonderoga. The Kent-Delord House Museum in Plattsburgh that I visited several times.

Those visits planted seeds that grew over decades.

I’m a history nerd. Always have been. I read Blackstone’s Commentaries (talk about dry legal writing). The Federalist Papers. Franklin’s autobiography. Not because I was researching a novel, but because I genuinely love this stuff.

Historical books and documentaries became my entertainment. Not historical fiction so much. Actual history.

Living Museums Changed Everything

Here’s what really taught me how colonial people moved, spoke and thought.

Living museums. Historical reenactors in period dress using period vernacular.

You can read all the books you want, but watching someone actually cook over an open hearth while explaining their day teaches you things no book can capture. The way they move in those clothes. The casual mentions of death and disease. The constant awareness of social rank.

These reenactors don’t just wear costumes. They inhabit a different worldview. Spending a day at Colonial Williamsburg or Old Sturbridge Village is worth a hundred history books for understanding daily life.

They’ll show you how a colonial woman manages her skirts while working. How a blacksmith’s apprentice addresses his master. How children were expected to behave. The thousand tiny details that make a world feel real.

The Colonial Mindset

This is where most writers stumble. We can get the clothes and speech patterns right but still create characters who think like modern people in funny hats.

Religion dominated everything.

I mean everything. Not just Sunday church. Their entire worldview was religious. Natural disasters were divine punishment. Good fortune was God’s blessing. Disease meant someone had sinned.

Social hierarchies were rigid and visible. You could tell someone’s status by their clothes, their speech, even how they walked. A merchant’s wife didn’t dress like a farmer’s wife. A gentleman didn’t speak like a laborer.

Everyone knew their place.

Economic concerns were survival concerns. A bad harvest meant starvation. A lame horse could ruin a family. There were no safety nets, no insurance, no backup plans.

Death was everywhere. Most families lost children. Women died in childbirth. Men died from infected cuts. People planned for death the way we plan for retirement.

Here’s the big one. Individualism is a modern concept.

Colonial people thought in terms of family, community and duty. Personal fulfillment? Self-actualization? These ideas didn’t exist. You did what your station required. You married who made sense for your family. You worked the trade your father worked.

Even that independent American spirit we talked about? It was about community independence, not personal freedom.

I didn’t have some big “aha” moment about this. It accumulated over years of reading and museum visits and thinking about how different societies work.

Research While Writing

Here’s my actual process when I’m writing a scene.

I’ll stop and look things up online. Historical articles. Maps of the period. Wikipedia’s primary sources section is surprisingly useful. If I can, I’ll visit the location either in person or on Google Maps.

Seeing the actual terrain matters. Understanding the distances. Getting a feel for the landscape.

I don’t have some elaborate authenticity process. I use the Snowflake Method and Story Equation to build character motivations, but that’s about story structure, not historical accuracy.

The authenticity comes from decades of accumulated knowledge. From museum visits as a kid. From reading history for fun. From exposure to diverse cultures around the world that taught me people can think in fundamentally different ways.

Common Pitfalls

After writing in this period, here are the mistakes I see most often.

Imposing modern values on historical people is the biggest one. Your colonial heroine who dreams of women’s rights? She’s about 150 years too early. More likely, she’d work within existing structures to gain influence.

Anachronistic language goes beyond obvious words like “awesome” or “okay.” It’s also about thought patterns. Colonial people didn’t “process their feelings” or “work through trauma.” They endured. They prayed. They drank.

Oversimplifying motivations is tempting but wrong. Real people are complex. A Scots-Irish settler might hate Indians because they killed his brother, but also trade with them because he needs the income. Both things can be true.

The Truth About Authenticity

Here’s what I’ve learned.

Perfect authenticity is impossible. I’m sure I make mistakes. That’s for readers to tell me.

What matters is creating a world that feels true. Getting the big things right. The worldview. The social structures. The fundamental differences in how people thought.

The details? Do your best. Look things up. Visit museums. Read actual history. But don’t let perfect authenticity paralyze you.

Your characters need to feel like they belong in their world, not ours. That’s what matters.

Just don’t have anyone say “awesome.”