Research can bring your story to life—but it can also suck you into a black hole of endless tabs and tiny facts. These tips will help you stay focused, find what matters, and use it in ways that actually serve your story.
1. Start Broad Then Zoom In
When you’re researching for a novel, it’s easy to get lost in the weeds fast. One minute you’re looking up medieval towns, and twenty clicks later you’re deep into an academic paper on 14th-century sewage systems.
Here’s a better way: start big. Get a general sense of the topic first—time period, culture, setting, profession, whatever you’re researching. You want the wide-angle view before you go hunting for the little stuff. Think of it like building a map before you explore the side streets.
Once you’ve got the lay of the land, then you can zoom in. That’s when you start chasing the specific details that matter to your story. What does a 19th-century lighthouse keeper actually do all day? What would a teenage resistance fighter eat on the run in 1942 France? That’s the good, character-driven stuff—but it only makes sense once you understand the world around it.
This also saves you time. If you go straight to the ultra-niche facts without context, you might realize later that they don’t fit your story at all. Or worse, you’ll rewrite a whole scene because you misunderstood the bigger picture.
So start broad. Get the framework in place. Then dive deep where it counts.
2. Go Beyond Google
Google’s a great starting point—but it shouldn’t be your whole research process.
If you want details that feel real and layered, you’ve got to go deeper than Wikipedia summaries and the top five search results. The good news? That doesn’t mean you need to become an academic ninja. There are easier ways to get richer, more textured info without pulling a full PhD.
Think podcasts, documentaries, longform journalism. These kinds of sources often dig into the why and how, not just the what. You’ll get stories, contradictions, nuance—the stuff that makes a setting or situation feel alive. And you can absorb a ton just by listening while you do the dishes.
That said, stay sharp. Not every podcast host or documentary narrator is an expert. Check who’s behind the info. Look for sources that cite their sources. A little skepticism goes a long way toward avoiding accidental misinformation in your story.
Also: libraries. Yes, actual libraries. They have access to books, archives, databases, and reference materials that don’t show up in a quick Google search. Plus, librarians are basically research sidekicks—you ask a question, and they want to help you find the answer.
Other options? Local museums, niche blogs, historical societies, even old magazines or manuals—basically, anything that comes from a perspective deeper than surface-level SEO.
So yes, use Google. But once you’ve got the basics, look for the stuff that goes a little deeper. The kind that makes you think, “Oh—that’s the detail I was missing.”
3. Talk to Real People
You’d be amazed what you can learn just by asking.
Whether you’re writing about a job you’ve never worked, a place you’ve never lived, or an experience you’ve never had—chances are, someone out there has. And most people are more than happy to talk about what they know, especially if you’re genuinely curious and respectful.
Need to know what it’s like to be a nurse on a night shift? Or how it feels to grow up in a military family? Or what a beekeeper actually does all day? That kind of insight doesn’t always show up in books or articles—but you can get it straight from the source.
These conversations can give you the kind of detail you won’t find anywhere else—the little habits, routines, emotions, and “oh, that’s not how it really works” stuff that makes a scene feel real.
You don’t have to do a formal interview. It can be a quick message in a forum, a chat with a friend of a friend, or a casual conversation at a local spot. Just be clear about what you’re doing, listen more than you talk, and say thanks.
People are stories. If you want your writing to ring true, sometimes the best research isn’t on the page—it’s sitting across from you with a coffee, ready to share.
4. Walk the Walk: Use Field Research for Sensory Detail
You can read all the articles in the world about a place, but nothing beats being there—smelling the air, hearing the background noise, noticing how the light hits the sidewalk at 4 p.m. That’s the kind of detail that sticks with a reader. That’s the stuff that makes a scene feel real.
If you can go to your setting (or somewhere similar), do it. Sit. Listen. Pay attention. You don’t need a clipboard—just your senses. What does the place sound like? How does the ground feel under your shoes? What’s in the air—salt, smoke, humidity?
But let’s be real: not everyone can hop on a plane to walk through a medieval castle or tour the backstreets of Shanghai. That doesn’t mean you’re out of luck.
There are creative ways to “walk the walk” without ever leaving home:
Watch walking tour videos on YouTube. You’ll hear the traffic, the chatter, the way footsteps echo.
Use Google Street View to wander through neighborhoods, alleys, or countryside.
Listen to ambient sound recordings from different locations and environments.
Read personal travel blogs or journals that describe sensory experiences—how something tasted, what a city felt like, not just what it looked like.
Or use what’s already around you. Can’t visit a desert? Go sit in a dry, dusty park on a hot day. Writing a forest scene? Head to a local trail and just listen. You can use your local environment as a stand-in to access the sounds, smells, and textures that bring scenes to life.
The goal isn’t to copy every detail perfectly—it’s to give your writing texture. Readers don’t need to know everything. But if they can feel the dust, the wind, the weight of a moment? That’s what makes a reader lean in and forget they’re reading.
5. Take Smart Notes You’ll Actually Use Later
Let’s be honest—how many times have you done a deep dive, found something amazing, and thought, “I’ll remember this”? And then, a week later, you’re digging through your browser history like a digital archaeologist, trying to figure out where the heck that quote or fact came from.
Yeah. Same.
That’s why it pays to take notes while you research—but not just any notes. Take smart notes. Notes that are actually useful when you sit down to write.
Instead of just dumping links or copying huge chunks of text, try summarizing the info in your own words. Jot down why it matters, what scene or character it might connect to, or even just a little “use this for the temple scene!!” reminder. Future You will thank you.
Also: organize in a way that makes sense to you. Doesn’t matter if it’s a doc, a notebook, an app. As long as you can find what you need when you’re mid-scene and in the zone, it’s doing its job.
You’re not building an encyclopedia. You’re building a toolkit. Keep it simple. Keep it useful. Keep it close.
6. Don’t Use It All
So you fell down a research rabbit hole. You spent three hours learning how medieval blacksmiths cooled iron or ended up neck-deep in Victorian funeral customs. That’s great. That kind of digging makes your world feel solid and your writing feel confident.
But here’s the catch: just because you know something doesn’t mean it needs to go on the page.
It’s easy to feel like all that hard-earned knowledge deserves a moment in the spotlight. And sure, it’s tempting to drop in every fascinating detail—but too much research on the page can start to feel like a lecture in disguise. It slows the story down and pulls readers out of the moment.
The truth is, most research does its best work behind the scenes. It helps you make better choices—about how a character thinks, how a world works, or how a scene unfolds. But that doesn’t mean every fact needs a cameo.
Be selective. Use the parts that support your characters and move the story forward. Let the rest stay tucked away in your notes, quietly doing their job by making the story feel real.
7. Blend Facts with Fiction (Without a History Lecture)
Once you’ve chosen the right details, the next step is using them in a way that feels natural—not like pressing pause to deliver a mini-lecture.
Facts can absolutely bring your story to life. But the trick is to blend them in so smoothly, your reader doesn’t even notice. They’re not there to be impressed by your research—they just want to believe in the world you’ve built.
So how do you do that? Show, don’t explain.
Instead of telling us how rationing worked, show a character trading coupons for coffee. Don’t describe every piece of a vintage train—let the story unfold through the sound of the whistle or the way the seats itch under wool pants. Readers don’t need the manual—they need the moment.
And if you need to bend or simplify something to make the story work? That’s okay. This is fiction. What matters most is that it feels true, even if it isn’t 100% precise.
In the end, your research should disappear into the story—not because it’s not there, but because it fits so well, readers don’t even question it.
8. Know When to Stop (Seriously)
Research is important. No argument there. It helps you build believable worlds, write characters with depth, and avoid major “actually, that’s not how that works” moments. But here’s the danger zone: research can feel like writing when it’s not.
It’s easy to get stuck in the loop—just one more article, one more documentary, one more afternoon Googling “how long it takes to bleed out from a sword wound.” Suddenly, it’s been three days and you haven’t written a single scene.
That’s the trap: research can be comforting. It’s controlled. It’s productive adjacent. And it lets you avoid the messier, scarier part—actually putting words on the page.
So how do you know when it’s time to stop? A good rule of thumb: if you’ve got enough to sketch the scene or build the world, start writing. You can always flag a spot and come back if you need to dig deeper later. You’re not carving your story into stone. You’re building a draft—and that means movement matters more than mastery.
Remember: your goal isn’t to become an expert. Your goal is to tell a story. Don’t let research be the reason you never get past chapter one.
