How to stop researching and start writing and historical fiction novel by Markus McDowell

Back when I was working on my PhD dissertation, my DoktorVater sat me down one day and said, “At some point, you have to stop researching and write the thing. You could spend the rest of your life researching this topic. Write if you want ‘Dr’ in front of ‘Markus McDowell’!”

He was correct. My desire to cover (and uncover) every possible source and fact might be a good trait, but it also leads to never actually writing. I have had this problem with this historical novel about Desert Steve Ragsdale—a pioneer who built a town in the middle of the desert between Los Angeles and Phoenix in the 1920s.

Picture of Gus Lederer, a prospector and Desert Rat. — Gus Lederer, a prospector and Desert Rat, with one of his 18 burros. He baked flapjacks for them every morning.

Since the novel’s timeline is 1892 to 1972, there is a lot of information out there. Not much about his childhood, of course, but so much later one. Plus the historical events, the cultural characteristics, how people talked, technological innovations (and they were phenomonal in that time period!), and so much more.

Even now, halfway through the first draft, I find myself going back.

What roads were available between Desert Center and Calexico in the 1930s? How long would it take to travel by car? Horse? Burro?
When did the famous Desert Magazine print its first issue? Who were the editors, and did Desert Steve know them? (yes, he did.) What articles did Desert Steve publish, other than the one of the Desert Tortoise?
When did radio become commonplace? What radio stations were available in 1929?
How did the Spanish Flu Pandemic affect a little town like Desert Center? How about the Great Depression? The two world wars? (the latter—a lot! The others, not so much.)

Desert Steve Ragsdale and John Hilton, two desert rats, photo.
Historical novel by Markus McDowell. — Desert Steve Ragsdale and John Hilton, two desert rats, photo.

You can see the problem. If you want to write historical fiction like James Michener, you need to research like the man. I do wonder how he knew when to stop, though. After all, a novel—even a historical novel—is not required to be exact in all things. Yet I don’t want to write a novel that is not as true as possible to the time period, whether it be the jargon people used, the technology that had available, or the values they would have had. And I certainly want to avoid anachronisms!

Thankfully, I feel good about the depth and breadth of my research. I am on a steady writing schedule of the first draft, hoping to finish by December 1. I can go back and look up smaller details later, during the second draft.

Progress!

Stay tuned for more about Desert Steve.

— Markus McDowell

Desert. Sun. Sand. No roads or human settlements within fifty miles in any direction. The perfect place to found a town?

That’s what Steve Ragsdale believed. So he and his wife bundled up their four kids in their 1915 Ford Model T, bought a local prospector’s shack and well, and built a fuel station (50-gallon drum), a repair garage, and café. He advertised “Free food on days the sun doesn’t shine” and “No drunks, no dogs—we prefer dogs.” He was the owner, sheriff, rockhound, author, naturalist, desert guide, and Santa Claus at Christmas.

He became one of the local “desert rats” and earned the moniker “Desert Steve.” Along the way, he became part of history: the Colorado Aqueduct, the construction of the first State and National highways, the invention of prepaid healthcare, General Patton and World War II, the largest iron mine in the United States, flying saucer sightings, murder, and much more.

Based on a true story, this is the tale of a quirky, clever, and bold man who pursued a dream, wrote bad poetry, and found ways to survive when many would have perished or packed it in.

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