My wife is amazed at how authors, any author, can come up with stories. Some of us are full of them. She’ll tell you she doesn’t have any. I might conjure up an entire world and story in my head in an afternoon. How do I do it?

I start with what C.S. Lewis calls a “supposal.” A supposal is where we create a hypothetical world to explore themes through a different lens. In my case, “suppose we put advanced technology in the hands of colonials when the revolutionary spirit starts to grow. What happens then?”

That question led me down a research path I never expected. Not because I love research (though I do), but because I needed to understand the world I was about to turn upside down.

I’m going to be honest about my process. I think some authors over-state what they do. Sure, some are hyper-realistic with their research. But for me that amount of historical research is theoretical nonsense.

I start with Wikipedia. Yes, Wikipedia. It’s true because the crowd says it is. Then I follow the primary sources they cite and read actual books. It’s a batch process. I internalize what I’m reading but don’t refer back to sources while writing.

For my colonial series, I read everything I could find about the period. Defenders of the Frontier by William Pencak. The Divided Ground by Alan Taylor. Crucible of War by Fred Anderson. The Last King of America about George III, because I’m writing him as a character.

I’m not trying to become a historian. I’m trying to understand the mindset of the period well enough to write believable characters. I’m not writing a biography about King George. I want you to read what I have him doing and say, “eh, close enough.”

Will you pick on me for getting something wrong? Maybe. Will it destroy the story? I hope not. We don’t watch The Patriot for its accuracy. At the same time, I love the historicality of Midway (circa 2020).

Here’s what most writing advice won’t tell you. I’m not as fixated on accuracy as perhaps I should be.

Why? Because as soon as my characters discover advanced technology, society starts changing forever. The historical timeline goes out the window. I want to be historically consistent with the world before that moment. After that? I’m writing alternate history.

When sources conflict (and they always do), I try to choose the one with less “spin.” All history is propaganda to some extent. I look for accounts that seem less interested in proving a particular point.

When I want to understand a topic, I try to find five books on it. The saying is, “if you want to write a book, first read five books [on that topic].” In my case, I stop by reading the five books. The Venn overlap among the books is likely accurate. The rest may be spin. Maybe not. That’s not just for researching for a novel series. That’s for any topic. My library is filled with “five books about.”

In law school, when researching an issue, I would ultimately read, or at least scan, every case in that legal principle’s evolution. You’d be amazed at what you find. Sometimes, law is like the movie Momento.

I use Obsidian to write, organized by series. I have an entire section called “notebook” to organize my research findings. Simple folder system. No fancy databases or index cards. Now that we have AI, I will have it summarize what I’ve found into more digestible chunks.

When the plot heads in an unexpected direction (which happens more than I’d like), I do spot research to maintain consistency. But I fact-check as I write, not in revision. Revision is about story consistency, not historical accuracy. David Lee Roth once said, “who am I to get in the way of a good story?” I agree.

Research didn’t change my story direction. Not once.

I had my supposal. I had my key scene (character discovering technology). I worked backwards to figure out why a city slicker would be in the wilderness. That led to other characters, including the Strand brothers who are the real focus of the series.

The Snowflake Method helped me outline, but characters still surprise me. In book 2, one subplot took off in its own direction. That’s when I did targeted research to support where the story wanted to go.

I err on the side of telling a good story. Again, David Lee Roth.

This isn’t a history book. If I have to choose between historical accuracy and narrative momentum, story wins. Every time.

I believe in Stephen Decatur’s maxim about our country, but I no longer hold the complaints in the Declaration of Independence as accurate truth claims. I agree with the philosophy that we’re all equal before God and have shared rights from him. That’s anti-power and more in line with what God would want.

This perspective shapes how I approach research. I’m not trying to prove historical points. I’m trying to understand human nature in a particular time and place.

The biggest mistake I see historical fiction writers make? Being too worried about getting historical details wrong. In 1995, Bernard Cornwall inadvertently introduced a fictitious definition that some people hold as historic gospel. That’s because people assume we’re trying to be as right as we can about history. We shouldn’t try to be. Perhaps there should be a Moh’s Hardness Scale for Historical Fiction like there is for science fiction.

You’re going to get things wrong. Accept it. Focus on getting the big things right like worldview, social dynamics, the way people thought about power and relationships.

Readers should forgive you for getting the color of military uniforms wrong. They won’t forgive you for making 18th-century characters think like 21st-century people.

Research serves the story. Not the other way around.