How to write creative non-fiction history
<p><em>Discovering an old photo album from the 1920s, celebrated author and adjunct professor <strong>Paul Ashton</strong> embarked on a journey to turn historical research into engaging creative non-fiction, blending meticulous evidence with captivating storytelling. Here he shares he insights on the fascinating process. </em></p>
<p>One afternoon my elderly father and niece came to my home for lunch. On their way they had seen something on a council clean up. ‘We thought you might be interested in this,’ said my father handing me a small, brown photo album. I was.</p>
<p>The album contained around 100 undated black and white photographs. It became apparent quickly that this was the record of a road trip done in the 1920s or 1930s. A boy, two women and a man had gone on a trip from Sydney up through New England, to Tamworth then to Brisbane and back to Sydney. Shadows in some of the images indicate that they were taken by the man and at least one of the women. The album provided the basis for my first children’s book, Palmer’s Mystery Hikes.</p>
<p>One photograph stood out for me. Hundreds of people were gathered somewhere in the bush. In the far left-hand corner in the background was an elevated table covered with a large white tablecloth. With a magnifying glass I could just make out ‘Palmers [something] Hike’. In 1932 Palmer’s men and boys’ department store, in Park Street in Sydney, had established a hiking club to promote the sale of hiking apparel. You bought a ‘mystery’ ticket from New South Wales Railways with which Palmer had an arrangement; turned up at Central Station on Sunday morning; and were taken to a mystery destination. From there you did a ten-mile hike to another station and were then trained back to Sydney. There were five hikes. The third one to the Hawkesbury River attracted over 8,000 people.</p>
<p>Turning historical research into believable fiction or creative non-fiction has certain demands. How do you strike a balance between historical research and evidence and the narrative form? This is a big question and will ultimately depend on many things, including the availability of primary and secondary sources and the nature of the particular narrative. But perhaps the most important question is: how do writers use the past to give their work historical dimensions and insights?</p>
<p>For me, the most critical element is context. And it’s the thing most missing in much historically based fictional literature. Evoking people, places and periods involves understandings of things such as continuity and change over time, historical process – like colonisation and suburbanisation – ideologies and superstitions. Where appropriate, these should form subtle backgrounds to the narrative. Fiction and creative non-fiction as historical modes of presenting history should also show – not tell.</p>
<p>My edited collection, If It’s not True It Should Be (Halstead Press), explores writing history using fictional techniques. As Peter Stanley has written in that book, ‘those who seek to illuminate the past through the imaginative recreation of historical fiction … [are] motivated by the fundamental conviction that what links the fidelity of the historian and the imagination of the historical novelist is that the work of both should be offered and read as if it were true.’</p>
<p><em>ABOUT THE AUTHOR<br />Paul Ashton is adjunct professor and co-founder of the Australian Centre for Public History at the University of Technology Sydney and adjunct professor at the University of Canberra and Macquarie University. He has authored, co-authored, edited and co-edited over 40 books and is editor of the journal Public History Review. His series of creative non-fiction children’s histories – Accidental Histories – is being published by Halstead Press.</em></p>
<p><em>Images: Supplied</em></p>
