Why writers need adult supervision when near the research rabbit hole!

So, remember way back in the day when teachers would make you write lines when you did something wrong? Yeah, the Dark Ages, I know, but it was a thing.

Well, my muse is making me write this post in penance for getting lost down the research rabbit hole, AGAIN.

It’s not fair, absolutely not fair. What does my demanding little muse expect? That I would sit by passively as questions, thoughts and –gasp!—ideas flow through my squirrely little writer’s brain? Heaven knows that’s not going to happen—like ever!

It started innocently enough—fueled by recent heady successes in the research department. I mean can you expect me not to be giddy when I discover a century old ship wreck, with the right cargo, that has never been found, that sank PRECISELY where I needed it to sink! Seriously, who wouldn’t get drunk with the joy of such a thing? Or having a l write itself when upon examining the geography, flora and fauna of a place. A port, a cave, and a band of marauding macaques all showing up in the right 2 ½ l mile radius, in the right year? I mean how could that not make me slap happy?

So, still under the influence of that research high, it all started out innocently enough. I was writing a scene about an injury, so I googled images of said injury so I could describe it properly. (Word to the wise, don’t do this if you have a weak stomach or immediately after you eat—not a good plan.) Then I had to figure out what my character would do about such an injury—back to the browser. But I was still on track, so that was all right.

But then I got in trouble. I started editing a scene involving archery and picnics. I needed a small detail, just one little detail and I would get back to it. Yeah, sure, says the addict who promises it will just be a little indulgence, just this once. No sooner did I start into that search than I—no kidding, I have witnesses—I had fifty seven browser tabs open with academic/scholarly articles on women archers in Georgian England, the history of picnics, appropriate fashions for each,  menus and recipes for picnics, including Mrs. Beeton’s 1860 menu for forty people (bad research bunny, wrong era!), maps and discussions of Regency era parks in London, six different scholarly analyses of the Box Hill Picnic scene in Jane Austen’s Emma, maps and descriptions of Box Hill, and another scholarly article on romanticism and picnics—did you know the development of the picnic is a political act?

ARGH!!!

Is it any wonder that my muse just grabbed me by the scruff of my neck and dragged me kicking and screaming out of the research rabbit hole?

It’s probably a good thing she did or I’d still be there. After all I need to research mythological horses, kelpies in particular, the structure of herds in wild horses, tattooing pigments, and a recipe to make for dinner tonight. But I don’t think I’m going to be allowed near the rabbit hole without belay gear this time. It’s easier to haul me out that way.

Join me for more research rabbit hole adventures HERE