But I Hate Research!

Oh, stop whining. I hate writing essays (usually), but I do it when I must. And yes, research is a must when you're writing.

"Why?" you may ask. "I know precisely what I'm writing about!"

But do you have the details correct, my dear fellow writer? (One of the many reasons I love Google's "define:" function: sometimes the context you learned a word from used it wrongly.) When even the slightest grain of doubt appears, when you find yourself guessing, you must check. When using a word that you can't remember the dictionary definition of but you know you've seen used like you're using it, check! It will spare you many an embarrassment.

"But I'm writing a novel, not an article" you say. "It's artistic license." And I'm sure that's precisely what your reader's thinking when you have your heroine fling some knitting across the room and have the old lady patter over to it, pick up the hook and keep going without any trouble.

In case you didn't notice or don't know, knitting uses needles. Two of them. And it makes noise. And you don't just "knit"—there are stitches. Stitches in knitting also have the unfortunate tendency to come off the needles (be "dropped"), and when that happens, the stitch can unravel all the way down to the base of the fabric. Repairable, but a pain.

I can at least "read" most objects' fabric to tell you what craft made them even when I can't personally repeat the task. (Though I've done that, too.) Macramé, knitting, crochet, Tunisian crochet, croknitting, tatting, weaving—all these and other crafts have distinct appearances and produced fabrics. Knitting is more elastic than crochet, but crochet's easier to shape and makes a thicker—but more holely—fabric. Croknitting produces a very thick fabric, but it's nice and stretchy like knitting with some of crochet's ease of shaping. And I could continue.

That was most likely more than you ever wanted to know about those crafts. I don't expect you to remember it, either. But I do expect you to describe a craft correctly if you're going to include it in your book or use it as an analogy in your writing. Otherwise, I have no reason to trust what you've written or to trust you. In fact, if you neglected to do your duty and research this minute detail, why should I trust any of your details?

I've heard a similar complaint from people in martial arts. A lot of books describe violence in impossible ways. For example, being struck in the face is a horrible wrecking ball to the self-confidence, I've read from someone who's had that happen in her classes. You don't just bounce back up when that happens.

I mentioned I made this sort of error once, myself. In a novel roughdraft, I had my character cook some mash. Problem: I had it boil. Mash doesn't boil; and, silly me, I hadn't even thought of checking that. "Creamy cereals boil; isn't mash like one of them?" I assumed. Wrongly.

For analogies, for details, or for novels—research is required for all of these. If you think you know what you're talking about, check to make sure you're correct. It takes time, yes, but thank the Internet—it's a whole lot easier, now!

…Usually. But you have to be willing to work with it, and to recognize when it's time for the "ol'-fashioned" library trip.

"But search engines won't work for me!" you protest. "I don't know enough about the topic to know where to start looking!"

Don't worry. I'll be teaching you how to research then, too.