I’d teach history differently now

Having taught history for 34 years at community college, I am an expert at trying new pedagogies. I pride myself that I used many different techniques in the classroom, both online and onsite. Interactive lectures, small group discovery, or kits with primary sources, I did it all.

Or so I thought. Now, after a few years as a historical fiction writer, I’m not so sure.

The enjoyment I get from doing history has always been the research. Since I retired, instead of having only a little time to do bits of research on a specific project or class-based exercise, I can research whatever I wish. As a scholar of the Victorian era, I have naturally set most of my fiction there.

Unlike authors who do all the research first and then write their novel, I look things up as I go along. (She reached into her pocket for a pen . . . oh, gosh, does she have a pocket? what is she wearing? did they have pockets in that kind of dress? should it be a purse instead? what kind of purse? what kind of pen would she be carrying?)

Historical fiction attracts me because it allows me to fill in the gaps in the historical record. I was recently interviewed about conducting a workshop for writers, and was asked what my passion was. Research, of course! The challenge, then, is to make research the foundation of an interesting writer’s workshop. It only occurred to me later how similar this would be to teaching.

And so, in a flashback to the years where I awoke at 3 a.m. with a new teaching idea, I have one. A student, or group, or the class, could be given the timeframe and place. They could be given or decide on a genre for a story, and some kind of family of characters. In composing the story, they’d need to know the details: what class would the characters be from? what would they wear? eat? say? where would they go to work? how would they get there?

Then the students would do the research to find out. The whole thing would be discovery and creation.

I wouldn’t have thought of this unless I wrote historical fiction. I’ve always been an avid reader of the genre, and I love the details when the author is skilled enough to use them. In this case, details would be required, as the goal would be immersion for the reader.

While there wouldn’t be time to do this deeply in a two-hour workshop, it would work great in a classroom.

Now, back to my writing. I have a dead body in an office at the University of London, slumped over a desk. What kind of desk? Is the room dark? How much light would come through the window at 3 p.m. on a Tuesday in July 1883? . . .

[Also posted on Substack as an experiment.]