Creating Authentic Fiction, article by Lorna Schultz Nicholson, Web Mystery Magazine, Fall 2005

Creating Authentic Fiction

As a writer, it’s important to step away from the internet and the library to do your research. Sometimes there is a real necessity to become totally immersed in the local flavor. When I wrote See Fox Run, a book with an Inuit protagonist, I remember the day I pushed away from my desk and said, “I can do more without actually being in my setting or talking to someone face-first (not via email) who knows and understands the culture I want to write about.”

I honestly felt that if I could not find someone to talk to, the novel would be dead. Eh gads. My first search was to make contacts from the setting I was writing about which was way North in the Canadian Arctic. I needed someone who could guide me and help me, someone I could take to lunch and ask questions. A friend of mine owned a jewelry store in Banff Alberta and she sold Inuit Art so I talked to her about one of her artists. He was an Inuit sculptor who was from Tuktoyaktuk, North West Territories and he lived around 45 minutes from my house. (His work is amazing.) This was my first lead. I managed to track him down — you have to be a good investigative reporter — and after I explained what I was doing, I set up a meeting with him in his town. My treat. I had questions ready although I didn’t pull out any papers as I wanted the meeting to be informal instead of a reporter-like deal where he might be made to feel uncomfortable.

Over lunch we talked about his family, his childhood, his art, his passions, the work he did with the Aborginal Healing Foundation. I didn’t think of just my book and my characters but of his northern experiences. There was no need for me to push and I let the conversation flow instead of guiding it to get the answers I wanted. He told me information I never would have been able to find from the internet or books, as it was personal. I thanked him profusely and we agreed to meet again, after I had written more. He also gave me some book titles to look up and they were books he respected so I knew they were ones that would be good references. Most of these titles were not mainstream either.

There came a time, during the writing, that I decided I needed a trip North. I had to see exactly what I was writing about. I phoned my friend. He said he would help me and would find some places for me to stay while I was there. I could have opted to stay in a hotel but I didn’t. When I landed in Yellowknife, I was greeted by someone I didn’t even know but who was a friend of my friend’s. I stayed with this family for a few days. While there I tried to absorb their lifestyle. The woman was a teacher and one evening I helped make small Inuit drums for a unit she was going to do with her students. This task was not directly related to my mystery book but it made me feel part of the culture and thus gave me a broader experience base. I didn’t limit my experiences to what would fit in my work. I opened myself to the entire world.

I traveled from Yellowknife to Inuvik where I stayed with another family. I shared family dinners, helped with the dishes, ran errands and played with the baby. I opened my eyes to the art on the walls, the old photographs of their family, and I lived their life instead of mine. I didn’t ask questions that pertained to my novel, I engaged myself in any conversation that they initiated. When the family was home, I didn’t open a notebook or take out my computer. I just lived. When I was alone, I wrote, went to the local library, searched archives at government offices, and did my own research.

One day we went to a hockey tournament in Tuktoyaktuk which was a three hour drive by ice road. Attending the tournament was a spontaneous decision and the friend I was with wanted to play so I tagged along. Again, I just enjoyed everyone’s company and didn’t concern myself with the fact that I had no hockey scenes in my novel. It was the experience of being at the arena and listening to the conversations around me that I was interested in. I sat in the stands by myself and struck up conversations that had nothing to do with my novel. I went into the community center hall and watched the kids run around. I read the notice boards. I talked to the girl running the canteen. I left and went for walk (at -40 I didn’t walk far). I went to the art store and talked to the clerk about her life. I listened and observed.

I learned so much by observing and listening instead of asking question after question so I could get specific answers for my novel. I didn’t limit my learning. I think that is the most important element when you are trying to research cultures. As writers we often have lists of questions we need answers too, and it is important to get those answers, but if you limit your research to your questions, you miss so much.

Research never goes to waste. I also write children’s hockey novels. Ironically, about a year ago, my editor asked me if I wanted me to write about a hockey player from the North West Territories. She knew nothing about my trip North, in fact, I pitched the story to have the player come from Russia. This suggestion from my editor came to me a good four years after my trip. And now this character has been so well received that I’m on my third book about him.

If you’re going to immerse yourself, immerse yourself. Let your experience lead you, instead of you leading your experience.

Amazon review by Dana Taylor: "See Fox Run exposes the underbelly of the innercity world of drugs and prostition. But one Inuit minister of a rundown mission doggedly does his best to make a difference. An intricate plot, well written and poetic leaves you thinking about the characters long after you've finished the tale."

Visit Amazon.com to read more See Fox Run.

See Fox Run (ISBN 1590803019) is available at Amazon.com, directly from the publisher Echelon Press , or other online outlets as well as most bookstores.