One of the biggest surprises I encountered while writing Lincoln Seeks Justice for Elijah Lovejoy was learning that good history doesn’t automatically become a good novel.
I spent years reading court transcripts, newspaper accounts, speeches, letters, and memoirs. I wanted to understand not only what happened, but how the people involved thought and felt. At first, I tried suing some of the material almost exactly as I found it. I included lengthy courtroom testimony. I quoted speeches. I carefully followed the historical record.
It didn’t work.
The history itself was fascinating, but the story lost its momentum. I realized that readers didn’t want pages of testimony or speeches. They wanted to know why those words mattered. Instead of hearing every question asked in the courtroom, readers wanted to see the expression on Abrham Lincoln’s face as a witness testified. They wanted to feel the tension in the room, watch friendships strained, and understand what was at stake if the jury believed–or rejected–what they had just heard.
The same was true of speeches. A speech isn’t memorable simply because someone delivered it. Its’ memorable cause of the people listening to it. Did it inspire them? Did it anger them? Did it change a mind–or harden an opinion?
That’s when I realized my job wasn’t to copy history onto the page. My job was to bring history to life. The facts remain the foundation of Lincoln Seeks Justice for Elijah Lovejoy, but the story comes alive through the people who lived those events. Their hopes, fears, convcitions, and choices are what transform historical facts into a novel that I hope readers won’t want to put down.
Current projects
- My book: continuing revisions of my novel as I work to balance historical accuracy with a story that keeps readers turning the pages.
- Edward Bryant: Continuing to preserve and republish the work of my late friend, Edward Bryant, so new generations of readrs can discover his remarkable stories.
Thank you for walking alongside me.
The View From The Imaginarium 