I regularly experience in my writing process that if, say, I tell myself I want to write a short story, I’ll have a quick clear thought about what it should be. In my head I see a character have an experience, and they are changed.

BAM! There it is!

The automatic short story is done!

It seems like it should be that easy to crank something out.

What I’ve discovered, though, is that pretty much every time one of my ideas starts out clear and uncomplicated, it does not complete itself that simply.

Never. Ever.

This is because that little thing called “context” raises its hand and says “You still have to deal with me”, and then the research must begin- because for a story to work, it has to be grounded in something approximating reality. Even if it is a fantasy story, you have to know and provide how the rules in the fantasy world work to be able to convey conflict and tension to readers when a character comes up against a challenge, because confronting challenge is at the heart of storytelling.

And it is at this point that things for me go awry.

Because research demands that I begin by trying to understand a location. And then context asks me what that location was like at a certain point in time, or in history. And then context asks me why that location was or was not important. And then, next, context asks me who in the area was important related to the place. And then context asks me about botany and geology and geography and diet and transportation and religion and cultural customs, and pretty soon I am drowning in minutiae totally unrelated to the vision I once clearly had, when I just wanted to write a short story.

“You’ve got to make it believable”, context says. “Only by providing some realism can you do that!”, context smirks.

Shut up, context. You are right, but shut up. I just want to write about the kid and his dog.

Dealing with context and developing a tale’s backstory is like when you find a snag in your old favorite sweater. I think, “Hey, if I just pull this loose thread out, it will quit dangling and the sweater will be all fixed and fine.”

Dadgum it. That was a big mistake.