When writers of historical fiction get together, one topic that often arises is research. Not just the nuts and bolts of where to find specific information or which source is more reliable, but the general topic of how much research is necessary when writing fiction. This is a subject that will never have a single answer, of course. Writers vary in how much time they can put into research and the importance they attach to getting the details right. Most of us fall somewhere near the center of the spectrum, disagreeing only in how many of the minor details we can bend to our needs before the story becomes unbelievable. But there are people at both ends.

The spectrum ends are easy to define. I know several aspiring writers who devote so much time to research that they never manage to write. If their heroine is poised to enter a room, they can’t continue the scene until they have identified every detail of that room – size, shape, décor, furnishings, colors, knick-knacks, etc, etc. They have to know the maker of every piece of furniture, the type of latch on the door, the exact details of the fireplace, and how the pictures are attached to the walls. Without that knowledge, their heroine can’t take a single step, let alone open her mouth to speak. And if there are people already in the room, these writers need to know who they are, what they are wearing, every detail of their backstory, why they are present, and on and on. They bury their minds in so much minutia that the story has no chance of getting off the ground.

At the other end of the spectrum are the writers who care so little for the setting that they do no more than toss a few period phrases into the book and call it historical. Their stories are so generic that they could take place anywhere in the world – and sometimes at any time in history. Any reader of historical fiction has seen books that are merely contemporary tales in costume. Other books might be quite appropriate for one setting but fish out of water if set someplace else. One of those sits in my warning collection. The setting is supposedly Regency England, but the only actual English detail is a liberal sprinkling of lords and ladies across its pages. The only period details were horses and carriages for transportation. Beyond that, the plot violated everything that makes England unique. This book would have been far better if set in the 1850s in either the American west or the Australian outback or in the wilds of early medieval Scotland – someplace in which the rule of law had not yet been fully implemented. Since law and order were well established in Regency England, this book’s plot was obviously impossible even to readers who know little of the period.

Which leads to my own view of historical research. I believe that even fiction must conform to the facts that make the chosen setting unique. So if my story is set in Regency England, the society in which my characters live will be organized by class with significant differences between the classes. The laws concerning marriage, inheritance, and individual rights or lack thereof must overrule any plot devices. If my characters choose to ignore society’s customs, they must recognize and accept the consequences. And dates of well-known historical events cannot be moved, no matter how convenient it would be to do so. On the other hand, if the story demands that I change a bit of minutia, I will do so without angsting over it. In The Rake’s Rainbow, I needed six inside passengers in a mail coach – real mail coaches barely held four. But I needed six, so the book had six. And I’m far from the only writer who has had a lord serve as the local magistrate even though lords were usually barred from holding that post.

So do enough research to understand your period. As writers, we must be capable of crafting a story that fits its time and place. But don’t get bogged down in tiny details. Readers want a gripping story populated by enticing characters. They don’t care if dance cards were actually used in 1819 and don’t need to know every ingredient in the pasty the hero just bought from a street vendor.