Kara wanted to know how I research my books

That’s a difficult question to answer because it sort of implies that I have a consistent methodology to fall back on. And in some sense, I guess I do. But for the most part, my research is kind of organic and, at times, random.

Basically, I pants the research, just like I pants the writing.

I rarely come to a new book with an idea fully formed.  Most of the time, what I have is a title. I think of a great title, and then I start writing a story that fits. It may seem kind of strange, but it’s how I’ve done this for years now—title, then story.

Occasionally, I’ll come up with a title after the story, but that’s usually more along the lines of, “This would make a much better title.”

A lot of times, the title comes to me after I’ve read or seen something that inspires me. For example, The Devil’s Interval was inspired by some reading I’d been doing, in which that phrase was used and defined. I started doing some spot research into it, but the phrase just really clicked with me. It sounded intriguing. It sounded like a thriller title. So... it became one.

For that book, I spent time looking into the history of the thing, and that led me down a few rabbit trails. At that time, I was still trying to make every book fit the “out of place history” theme (something I still do, but not as heavy-handed as when I first started). I’d been combining bits and pieces of disparate history to create intriguing and interesting stories, and when I learned that Sir Isaac Newton had done some work with sound, it seemed like a perfect fit.

I still think that it was.

Research from there went mostly straight to Google and Wikipedia. I started reading up on ways that sound could be used for all sorts of insane things—from cutting glass to performing brain surgery. And the idea of a tone that could influence human behavior—which, in a sense, is what a “devil’s interval” is—was very interesting to me. I’d been reading about marketing agencies using target audio projection to advertise to specific people as they moved through a crowd, and things just started to tumble into place.

That idea, by the way, is scary as hell to me. Can you imagine walking along and being recognized by some AI, which then transmits a signal that only you can hear, just to try to convince you to go buy a Rolex? No thanks.

For the locations in that book, I relied on a combination of analogous extrapolation, in which I drew on details from my own experiences and travels, and Google Maps.

I know it may sound like a cheat—but being able to “walk around” in a location via Google Maps has been a profound game-changer for authors. I’ve done some world travel, but I haven’t quite been everywhere. And even if I have been to a city, I may not have explored it so thoroughly that I can write about it at length. So being able to put myself into a space, virtually, and see it from the street level, is invaluable.

The other resource I fall back on quite a bit is YouTube.

Not to give Google all the credit for my research, but they really do have some winners. YouTube may be my favorite tool of all time, for learning about and doing a deep dive into just about any topic I can imagine. I can get walk-thrus of locations, experience some of the local color, the sounds, the people, the whole thing. I can learn skills, pick up history, and get some details that you can’t necessarily get from reading a book or article.

Those things, along with the books and articles I do read, are profound influences on the work. I can get some surface-level insight, and then go as deep as I need to through other means.

When possible, I do like to actually visit the places I write about. In Coelho Medallion, for example, I wrote about Pueblo, Colorado, and a half dozen other places I’ve visited. In books like The Antarctic Forgery, though I’ve never been to the Antarctic, I was able to include details about locations I have been to, which added to the feeling of authenticity.

Aside from the travelogue stuff, though, I write about a lot of historical events and artifacts. Much of this research happens organically, as I’m exposed to books, articles, television shows, and videos. I will often find a book or two on a topic I plan to write about and read it even as I’m doing the writing. It helps get me into the right headspace, and I will sometimes loop back through what I’ve written to fold in details I’ve learned.

All of that plays a part in researching each book. But I should make it clear that what I’m writing isn’t necessarily dependent on deep dives into historical facts. A large percentage of what I write about is purely made up.

I’m not writing research papers. I’m writing fiction. And though thriller readers do love to know that they’re getting some actual facts in their fiction, sometimes I diverge from reality and create a whole new mythos.

The secret to doing this successfully, I’ve determined, is to present enough actual historical fact, as accurately as you can, so that the made-up historical facts ring true.

In The Girl in the Mayan Tomb, every word I wrote about Apuch or Viracocha or the Mayans, in general, was true. These were facts derived from my research, which actually spanned the course of half a year. But the bits about a virus, the existence of a modern-day death cult that still worshiped Apuch, and pretty much anything associated with Kotler deciphering Mayan glyphs to find a lost vault of treasure... yeah, I made all of that up. Fiction writers, am I right?

This isn’t some kind of betrayal or scam. It’s just the way fiction works. To make it feel authentic and plausible, to help suspend disbelief for the reader, we writers sometimes mingle fact and fiction to create a hybrid, with a story we can more tightly control.

I have, at times, been accused of being too “surface level” with my facts. Or, as one reviewer put it, I “presented a Wikipedia level of knowledge” about a topic.

Yes. This is true. I mean, I use more than Wikipedia to do my research, but I’d say that most of my stories dip only about that far into historical fact.

Because they’re fiction stories, not research papers.

Believe me, I know the difference. I’ve written at length on a variety of topics in the course of my career. I’ve done quite a bit of in-depth research into things that would, frankly, make most people prefer to have their brains boiled. I know how to dig deeper.

But for my work, there’s usually no need.

Research is something that has become a fun part of what I do. It’s relaxing, in its way. It’s an excuse to read a book, or visit a museum, or tour a historic site. It’s an excuse to join an archaeological dig or interview a series of experts.

I do all of these things. I just don’t do all of them every time.

Research has essentially become a constant activity in my life when it comes down to it. I never actually stop. It’s happening all the time, all around me.

So maybe I don’t have a consistent methodology.

But I do have methods.

Kevin Tumlinson is an award-winning and bestselling author of thrillers, sci-fi, fantasy, and more. You can find Kevin and his work at authorontheroad.com