Today we continue the series in which award-winning
nonfiction authors discuss the joys and challenges of the research process with
an essay by Patricia Newman. Thank you, Patricia.
I love writing
nonfiction. I tell real stories, I meet scientists on the cutting edge
of discovery, and I share their process with readers. Despite my love of
writing, part of me wonders if I write for the challenge of research.
Research allows me to
question, follow leads, gather information, and reorganize all the
possibilities until I uncover the story. My first draft with my reproachful
blank computer screen is still far into the future.
Some books are simpler
to research than others. Sea Otter Heroes focused on one scientist in a
specific location, which made information gathering easy. Planet Ocean required
meeting multiple people in multiple places, a logistical ordeal. A River’s
Gifts: The Mighty Elwha River Reborn (Fall 2022) focuses on one river but
required the expertise of many people.
All my books have
started with something I read or heard, and A River’s Gifts was no
different. In 2018, my husband told me about a young friend who spent the
summer replanting the lakebed above a former dam on a Washington river. Hmmm,
former dam? Why—and how—was it removed? How long did it take? What happened to
the lake? Why did the lakebed need replanting? Where did the plants come from?
Did removing the dams help? When the seed of a possible book idea generates a
flood of preliminary questions like this, I investigate.
Young writers can also develop
preliminary questions. Questions provide a road map for my detective work and
help me prioritize what’s most important. To find the answers, I read online
articles, watched videos, and studied images of the Elwha River. I also started
a list of experts to interview, a river word bank, and lists of plants and
animals in and along the river.
As I researched, I
identified three fascinating themes:
1.
Collaboration
between scientists, government officials, and the Lower Elwha Klallam Tribe to
remove two dams and restore the river ecosystem.
2.
The
role of science in the river’s flow, the dam removal process, and the river’s
wildlife.
3.
Hope
inspired by a conservation story with a happy ending.
A narrative
began taking shape in my mind with the Elwha River as my main character. But
who were the supporting characters? Salmon? Indigenous people? Scientists? Dam
operators? I drew a graphic in my research notebook of all the players that could
help me tell the Elwha’s story.
I checked my expert
list to see if I had all the various groups represented and began reaching out
to them. Many agreed to help. Others referred me to colleagues with more
information. The list of willing experts grew, and for the first time I knew I
had a viable book idea. Without experts to interview, all my preliminary
research might have been shoved in a drawer never to become a book.
Next, I wrote a proposal to outline the idea for
my editor. Despite my track record and even the Sibert Honor distinction, a
contract is not a foregone conclusion. But this time, after a phone call with
my editor and a little tweaking, I had a contract.
I traveled
to Washington’s Olympic Peninsula to begin researching in earnest. I prefer to interview
experts on site to see what they see and hear what they hear. I ask open-ended questions
to elicit detailed stories rather than one-word responses—a skill students
could practice.
I learned about salmon from
a fish biologist at Olympic National Park.
A Klallam host gave me
a tour of the Lower Elwha Klallam Museum. She shared the tribe’s connection to
salmon, plus their stories, language, and ceremonies.
I visited a tribal fish
hatchery built to keep the salmon run alive for the Lower Elwha Klallam people
while the river was dammed.
A botanist took me on a
hike to one of the former lakebeds, now a riot of plants native to the area, where
we found a formerly submerged cedar stump with the logger’s ax cut still
visible (red arrow).
The pieces of the
story were coming together.
I also spent time alone
gathering sensory details—another strategy students can practice. I felt the
breeze push the clouds over the Olympic Mountains. I hiked to the site of the former
Elwha Dam and used my phone camera to film the sound of the river rushing
through the canyon. I photographed Chinook salmon struggling upstream to spawn,
the females splashing in loose cobble to lay eggs. These sensory experiences
became part of my narrative.
The heart of my
nonfiction books is people and their connection to nature. Learning more about
them makes my first draft flow. If we allow young writers to ask their own
questions and dig deep for the story they want to tell, then they might learn
to love research as much as I do.
Sibert Honor author Patricia
Newman is happiest outside near water, grateful for nature’s gifts. Her books
show readers how their actions ripple around the world and empower them to find
their own connections to nature. Distinguished titles include Planet Ocean;
Eavesdropping on Elephants, Sea Otter Heroes; Zoo Scientists to the
Rescue; and Plastic, Ahoy! Visit her at www.patriciamnewman.com, on Twitter at @PatriciaNewman, or on Facebook.
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One Response
Patricia,
Your books inspire me to create Nonfiction true books for children. I will search for this one as well. Thanks for sharing your process.