Today we continue the series in which award-winning nonfiction authors
discuss the joys and challenges of the research process with an essay by Mary
Kay Carson. Thank you, Mary Kay.
When kids ask how I research my books, I
usually tell amusing anecdotes from field trips with scientists: So many
bats live in the cave that poop and pee rained down on us…. We drove through a
half foot of hail piled on the road while chasing the tornado.
When writers ask the same question, I often
detail the struggle to find experts, track down primary source documents, or
gain access to archival images. Ah, the rabbit hole of research!
Teachers and librarians get some of both, along
with a healthy citation of books and articles read, nature programs and history
documentaries studied. Authors can’t rely on any single source!
All of this information, sensory detail,
context, and experience fills my “research sponge” until it’s oversaturated and
oozing out facts and ideas ready for translation into words on the page.
Describing these nuts and bolts of book
research often causes a twinge of guilt. A vague sense of withholding, like a white
lie of omission. Because for me research is more than gathered knowledge. It’s a
state of mind.
Research is an active mindset, a way of
thinking, observing, and making connections to past thoughts and observations. A
research mindset is a lot like inquiry-based learning.
Here’s an example. My upcoming book, The
River That Wolves Moved, uses the structure of a cumulative folktale (eg.
House that Jack Built) to convey the cascade of ecosystem changes brought on by
reintroducing gray wolves into Yellowstone.
Researching the book involved reading articles
and scientific papers, as well as watching videos, and corresponding with the
wildlife expert in charge of the reintroduction program. Pretty straightforward
bibliographic stuff. But there was much uncited research too. Ideas and
perspectives showing up in the sponge because of my research mindset.
I’d long followed the progress of the
Yellowstone wolf packs since 41 gray wolves were released in the National Park in
1995 after 70+ years of extirpation. I’d watched nature shows and read articles
about how willows were regrowing along rivers now that the elk sought safety on
higher ground. I’d seen the before and after diagrams of changed food chains,
returned songbirds, and unmuddied rivers. I’d been invested in the wolves’ fate
for decades.
Then in 2012, I visited Yellowstone for the
first time. The trip was to research a different book, one featuring grizzly
and geysers scientists. But my photographer husband and I hoped to also see
wolves (research mindset). And we did see and hear wolves (aahhRROOoo!) on that
trip. One afternoon a lone wolf trotted across a clear, shallow river lined
with willows in the Lamar Valley not far from the road. It was as if the
diagrams and scientific data had come to life. Thrilling!
Fast forward to a normal workday a couple of
years later. While scrolling, I stumbled across a TED Talk video by author and
activist George Monbiot about rewilding. It featured an engaging visual story
of how gray wolves were changing Yellowstone’s river valleys. How having a top
predator back in the mix had reshuffled food webs and created changes in the
physical landscape. Fewer elk eating willows decreases riverbank erosion,
encourages s-shaped meandering, and reshapes the river’s path. Wolves change
rivers.
The research sponge in my brain was already primed with facts,
meaningful experiences, and context. So I immediately felt the “Whoa!” factor. Kids
will get this. What a perfect example of a trophic cascade. Wildlife shapes
geography. Every species matters.
The combination and cumulation of all these events and interests,
gathered and tagged with meaning because of a curious state of mind, led to writing
the book. And that is the fully true story of how I researched The River That
Wolves Moved.
This is the river that wolves moved.
This is the pack
so furry and fast,
That hunts near the river that wolves moved.
These are the elk watchful and strong,
Who are prey for the pack,
That hunts near the river that wolves moved….
Mary Kay Carson
is an author of children’s books about wildlife, space, weather,
nature, and history. Her books have received more than a dozen
starred reviews, as well as multiple awards, including the 2019 AAAS/Subaru
SB&F Prize for Alexander Graham Bell for Kids. She’s
written six titles in the Scientists in the Field series, including
and The Bat Scientists, an ALA 2011 Notable Children’s Book, and The
Tornado Scientist, an Ohio Choose To Read title.
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2 Responses
Using the House That Jack Built structure is brilliant! Looks like a wonderful book.
What a marvelous peek into the brilliant mind of Mary Kay! Her "The research sponge in my brain was already primed with facts, meaningful experiences, and context. So I immediately felt the “Whoa!” factor. " especially resonated with me. Thank you both for this wonderful post!