Last month, I compared research to a row of tumbling dominoes, using my own experience in researching and writing the biography SACAGAWEA.

I’ve written novels, too, and if I could name one thing about the process that has most surprised me, it’s this: Writing fiction often requires as much research as writing nonfiction.

When you think about it, it makes sense. Any made-up story, regardless of genre, must have an element of truth. Truth lends a story integrity; it allows the suspension of disbelief. This is an obvious tenet for historical fiction, but it’s equally true for contemporary stories. THE ABSOLUTELY TRUE DIARY OF A PART-TIME INDIAN reads like a tall tale, until Sherman Alexie confides that the story truly is “absolutely true.” (I’ll happily interpret that as “absolutely mostly true,” because even autobiography benefits from good story structure. But that’s another blog post.)

Science fiction and fantasy must also contain elements of truth; perhaps even more so than realistic fiction, since the suspension of disbelief is even more important. WHEN YOU REACH ME, by Rebecca Stead, is set in a gritty, realistic 1970s New York City. This setting is so vividly rendered, and the characters are so true-to-life, that the story’s fantastical elements are readily accepted.

Even the highest fantasy requires research, though perhaps of a different sort. The completely fabricated world of THE HOBBIT builds upon ancient lore and languages, giving Tolkien’s story an aura of integrity and a connection to authentic culture and history.

In my own contemporary YA novel, JUMP THE CRACKS, a young teen tries to help an abused toddler, only to find herself running away with him. In order for readers to accept this premise, I needed to create a protagonist who would believably do such a thing, when confronted with a difficult choice. And so I establish that Victoria is mature enough to ride a train alone (and living in a place where train travel is common), yet immature enough to be impetuous—a child of divorce, with an emotional axe to grind.

Next, I needed to make Victoria’s journey logically possible, if not precisely, then at least nearly so. And so I studied Amtrak schedules and calculated the cost of train tickets. I checked the price of diapers. I read up on the GPS capabilities of cell phones (circa 2003). I don’t expect readers to put down the book and check Amtrak schedules (I hope they don’t!), but if they did, they would discover that Victoria’s journey was entirely possible. An author owes it to readers to get a story’s underpinnings right, or she will lose her readers’ trust.

How can this information be used in the classroom? Flip the author’s process and conduct backward research. For instance, instead of researching a topic first and then writing about it, students could choose a favorite piece of fiction—a picture book, a novel, even a fairy tale—and trace back one or more facts of the story.

Some stories’ facts are contained in small, telling details. For example, from CHARLOTTE’S WEB: Do farmers really bathe their pigs in buttermilk? Why? Why is Charlotte’s full name Charlotte A. Cavatica?

Other stories might be traced back to their origins in history. For example, the Pied Piper legend is supposedly based on true events in the real-life town of Hamelin, Germany. And vampire stories have been around for a long time. For how long? In what cultures? What purpose did the stories serve? Were the original vampire tales based on real people or events? Is there more to the origin than Vlad the Impaler?

Here are a few more examples of backward research that students might do:

Rumpelstiltskin: Is it possible to spin real thread made of gold? How is it done? How is gold thread used in science, or in art? Find some examples.

GOODNIGHT MOON: Notice the moon rising outside the window and moving across the sky as the pages turn. Younger kids could go home and record the movement of the moon outside their own windows. Older kids might consult an almanac to determine what time of day it is in the story, based on a chosen calendar date. Or, using the almanac again, imagine it’s 7:30 p.m. in the story. What might the calendar date be?

Hansel and Gretel: Write a recipe for gingerbread large enough to build a cottage ten feet wide and ten feet long. (This can get more complicated: What will the roof be made of? Will gumdrops be involved?)

As these examples show, any genre of fiction is fair game, and the level and depth of research can be adjusted to fit the grade level. Projects can span the curriculum, tying literature to history, science, math, and art.

In more ways than one, research is a way of getting at the truth—even the truth behind any work of fiction.

Stacy DeKeyser is the author of the nonfiction books SACAGAWEA and THE WAMPANOAG. Her YA novel JUMP THE CRACKS received a Truman Reader’s Award in Missouri, and has been nominated for South Dakota’s YARP Teen Choice Award. Her newest novel, THE BRIXEN WITCH, will be published in June 2012.



Beyond the Notebook: It's Only Natural to Write Nonfiction