Moving from historical fiction to contemporary crime: how to set aside the quill and open up a browser.
I came to fiction writing from a history background. I studied history in college and trained to be an archivist. In my career I’ve worked with various archival collections, while also researching the history of Georgian houses and estates. So when it came to writing novels, historical fiction seemed like a natural fit. I was so comfortable with the setting of nineteenth century Dublin that I hardly considered historical fiction to be a separate genre – they were stories like any other that just happened to be set in the past.
My first two novels were historical, one based on a real life murderer in 1841, the other about a young lady sleuth in 1816. But then a few years ago I had an idea for a modern crime story in which a Trinity College graduate named Emma Harte goes missing. While a national debate about women’s safety rages, James Lyster seems to be following her story with undue interest. By day, Lyster is an archivist in the National Library of Ireland. By night, he carefully curates an online persona, that of progressive ally to the oppressed and women in particular. When a sympathetic tweet about Emma’s disappearance goes viral, Lyster becomes an accidental feminist icon, and he lures fellow activist Libby Miller into a relationship.
As such, in Emma, Disappeared the online world is very much central to the plot. I couldn’t ease myself into contemporary fiction by setting the book in the 1990s or early 2000s when life was a little simpler, especially for crime writers. I had to leave aside my trusty and dusty historical instincts and emerge blinking into the modern world. With the novel complete, I feel I’m in a position to comment on the differences between writing historical as opposed to contemporary crime, and the truth is, they’re not as different as you might think.
The most obvious issue is one of research. A writer of contemporary fiction has direct experience of their own culture, of social norms, of trends in politics and fashion. The historical fiction writer has to do their homework to give themselves that grounding. However, when it comes to the nuts and bolts of a plot, there is still a huge amount of fact checking required in both genres. Questions that I had to ask while writing Emma, Disappeared included: can the police track a person via their mobile phone? What happens after someone is arrested? Do flash drives float in water? What time does a nightclub close on a certain week night? Most of the research carried out while writing is for world building and authenticity, and the process is much the same be it historical or contemporary.
You might think that it should be easier to imagine the landscape, the interiors, the furniture in a modern setting, and to an extent that is true. In Emma, Disappeared Lyster and his friend Arthur often meet for a pint in Fagan’s in Drumcondra, and I had little difficulty in rendering that location from memory. But then again, I never found it difficult to picture Dublin in the nineteenth century either. If you were to walk from the Rotunda to St Stephen’s Green in 1816, there would be any number of landmarks you would recognise along the way. Whenever I visit an old Georgian house, I remind myself that for hundreds of years people lived in these same rooms. Someone in the early 1800s warmed themselves by that fireplace, someone gazed pensively from that very window. Sitting in such a room, it takes the smallest leap of imagination to place yourself in a different time. (Of course there are eras and locations in historical fiction that would be completely unfamiliar to a modern writer, which would pose more of a challenge.)
Then there is the question of prose style. For Emma, Disappeared it did feel more natural to write with the cadence of present day language, particularly when it came to dialogue. In historical fiction, there is a balance to be struck between authenticity and the expectations of a modern reader. No one expects a novel set in the fourteenth century to be rendered in Middle English, for instance. For me, I didn’t want to mimic too closely the style of the nineteenth century, but there were small details and turns of phrase that allowed that sense of history to echo through the text. I’ve found that once you become comfortable with the voice of your narrator, especially in first-person, there’s no great difference between writing historical and contemporary fiction. You are more constrained by the psychology and temperament of the character, rather than the time period that they inhabit.
A clear distinction between the genres is the treatment of real events and people. It is common for historical fiction writers to reimagine the lives of public figures, which comes with its own responsibility summed up by Hilary Mantel: ‘The only requirement is for conjecture to be plausible and grounded in the best facts one can get.’ Contemporary writers tend to leave the narrative of current affairs to journalists and documentary makers, though that probably has more to do with legal considerations.
And so for writers of contemporary fiction who are thinking of dipping their toe in the historical world, or vice versa, my advice would be to go for it. It is mostly a switch in mindset that is required. The same considerations of narrative structure and character development still apply. The type of research required might be different, but it’s still mainly fact checking. Ultimately it is the story that is most important, and the historical or contemporary setting is merely a backdrop.
(c) Andrew Hughes
Author photograph (c) Fennell Photography ii
About Emma Disappeared:
Everyone is talking about the disappearance of Emma Harte.
A high-achieving university graduate and young entrepreneur, she was last seen in the early hours of the morning on grainy CCTV footage in Dublin’s city centre before vanishing into thin air. While a national debate about women’s safety rages, eyes turn to Emma’s boyfriend, Tom – who is nowhere to be found.
Meanwhile, archivist James Lyster is following the story with undue interest. When a comment he makes about Emma goes viral on social media, he finds himself drawn into the world of a group of idealistic university students involved in the search – and attracting the attention of the police detective in charge of Emma’s case.
Then a body is discovered in scrubland near James’ flat …
As the police get closer to finding out what happened to Emma Harte, James’ life begins to unravel. Is he a victim or murderer? Feminist ally or callous liar?
For it turns out that James isn’t the only one with secrets …
Emma Disappeared by Andrew Hughes is published by Hachette Books Ireland in Trade Paperback, 4th April, £14.99. Order your copy online here.
