I recently submitted a short story to my writing group. It was fairly well received, with some very constructive critiques, the kind that make a story even better. What surprised me was that nearly all of the two dozen writers who weighed in considered the story “historical fiction”, a genre I had not considered. I asked the group if references to past events in the story seemed dated and not relevant to contemporary readers, especially ones born after the Sixties, the setting. The overwhelming response was it did not.

My story is set in the early nineteen sixties, in a working class Jewish neighborhood in New York City, and the principal characters are young teenage boys and middle-aged communists. I saw my story as anchored to that unique culture. My reader-colleagues appreciated the cultural backdrop, but insisted the genre is historical fiction, and is the story’s real strength.

How can an author write a work of historical fiction without realizing it? I thought my story’s genre was “literary”, perhaps an adult-audience “coming of age” story, maybe a “message” story, but historical fiction was not in my line of sight.

After hearing my colleagues, I reread the story, and it became clear why they saw it as historical fiction. The story cannot be separated from the tension between committed communists and young boys who thought them weird, or the references to the events of the day. The Cuban Missile Crisis, the Nixon-Kruschchev “kitchen debate,” the early Vietnam War, and the recency of the horrors of Hitler and Stalin, are part of the characters’ lives. The story has other dimensions, but the genre is historical fiction.

This realization lead me to ponder the issue and review what “officially” constitutes “historical fiction”. After all, if I’m going to write in a genre, I ought to know it. I looked at dictionary definitions, scholarly and semi-scholarly articles, blog entries, and forum postings. Most told me nothing I didn’t learn from my colleagues. All the sources insisted the work must be set in the past, at least fifty years prior to the writing, and must make at least some reference to actual people or events of the time. There are difference of opinion as to how significant a role the time period stetting must play; is it just a backdrop and exotic setting, or are the events and culture the controlling factor? Some works use historical events and figures as a backdrop, others make them an essential part of the story. People read historical fiction for different reasons: some want scholarly-researched background, others are intrigued by a particular era, event, or person, and many simply like a good story. History affords endless opportunities to tell a good story, as Shakespeare taught us!

I Still Don’t Know for Certain How to Define Historical Fiction

It is still difficult to narrow the definition of what constitutes historical fiction. Authors approach the use of a period setting many different ways, all equally valid. This became obvious when I think of some works of “historical fiction” that impress me the most.

If someone were to accost me on the street, hold a gun to my head, and demand I name the most memorable work of historical fiction, I’d probably blurt out The March, by E.L. Doctorow. This lengthy novel, about Sherman’s March to the Sea, is a literary masterpiece, and the historical details are as perfect as any historian could hope. As a Civil War buff, I found the novel fascinating; it brought this controversial military episode to life in ways that no history or biography has ever done for me. Doctorow took me to the battlefield, into military meetings, and most powerfully, into the lives of of his characters. He brought the Civil War to readers by the strength of his words.

For a different use of history in fiction, are a compilation of three short novels by Egyptian author -and Nobel Prize recipient- Naguib Mahfouz. All are set in the Middle or New Kingdoms of Egypt, roughly thirty five to thirty seven hundred years ago, and involve the leaders of Pharaonic Egypt. The Nobel Laureate paid little attention to historical details, aside from the names of the Pharaohs. He provided little physical description, and offered the most minimal revelations of their religion, society or government. The characters spoke like modern political people, and it was clear that the great master was showing us that people and events are basically the same no matter what the time or place. Educating us about the details and nuances of Ancient Egypt was not a goal of the great writer; he was showing us the universality and immutability of the human condition. (While these three novels won’t rank among my favorites by Laureate Mahfouz or the historical fiction genre, they are definitely worth reading.)

Historical Fiction Is Really a collection of Sub-genres

This discussion is more than academic. If a writer senses that their work in progress is destined to be classified as historical fiction, they would be wise to see that it satisfies the devotees of that genre, or change genres. This means doing your research and becoming at least minimally competent in the material you wish to work with. Gain some insight into what was going on at that moment, and what life was like for the people you want to write about. The internet makes this easy for the writer, as well as for eagle-eyed readers. If you plan to tackle the Civil War, or the Great Depression, or the Summer of Love, rest assured there are well-informed readers waiting to catch any errors or omissions that undercut authenticity. There’s much less pressure in alternate histories or alternate universes; these sub-genres of science fiction must be internally consistent and logical, but require no provable facts. “Traditional” historical fiction is significantly set in a particular period, and usually involves historical figures and events mixed with fictional counterparts. In that case, facts do matter.

Historical fiction is not a strict and accurate reporting of the actual occurrences and people involved. That’s the job of biographers, historians, and journalists. The writer of historical fiction is free to use a time period and its society as a backdrop to character development and plot, and transmit through their work. That’s essentially what Naguib Mahfouz did with his Pharaonic trilogy, using the era as the loosest of backgrounds. On the other extreme we find Jack Finney’s Time and Again, which brought the reader into daily life in New York City in the eighteen eighties, with very well researched detail. (Finney is equally renowned as the author of “The Body Snatchers,” adapted to cinema in 1956, and 1978.)

Where the plot does entail involvement in actual historical events, and real figures of the past are characters in the story, the piece is undoubtedly “historical fiction.” Where an author speculates as to how the world might have been if things had worked out differently in history, that’s “alternate history.” Examples include The Man in the High Castle, by Philip K. Dick, and The Plot Against America, by Philip Roth. Where the world is manufactured, even if it looks a lot like ours, it is “alternate universe”, or just plain old science fiction. Gene Wolfe’s There Are Doors exemplifies this genre, as does much of the work of Philip Jose Farmer. Let’s also tip our hats to Max Apple’s great alternate histories, and H.G. Wells speculative futures of The Time Machine.)

Can a Work Retroactively Become Historical fiction?

Assuming there are rules, does the time when the piece was written control it’s genre? War and Peace, one of the greatest and most sweeping of historical novels (designed for those long Russian winters, no doubt) was written a half century or so after the events, and under the informal rule of fifty years, qualifies as historical fiction. A Tale of Two Cities, by Charles Dickens, was written about the same length of time after the French Revolution occurred. What if these novel had been written contemporaneously with the events, but were not discovered until fifty years later? Would they still be called historical fiction? Does the genre reflect the time period and the detail, regardless of when it was written, or must it be created many years later, relying upon the author’s research and creativity, not actual experiences?

A work may be contemporary when written, but years later, brings the reader into that time and place just as if it were written the week before. That doesn’t mean there will be no differences, because writing about what one personally experienced is quite different than writing about a time the writer learned about through secondary sources. A good writer makes either foundation work well.

Many decades ago, when I was a young man living through the Sixties, I wrote a short story titled The Nose Jones, about a white, middle class heroin addict in denial. (Click on the link to read it.) When I presented it to my writing group in Bangkok a few years ago, they saw it as a character study and a period piece. It became a period piece with the passage of time, but people who read it when written saw it as contemporary.

Don’t Get Hung Up On Genre, and Just Write!

As I learned from my writing group, we might not recognize our genre while we are writing it, but once we figure it out, our work becomes sharper and more focused. Understanding how a genre prompts readers’ expectations will help us keep their attention. It’s clearly easier to market a work of fiction that fits neatly into an identifiable and popular genre. This was traditionally the province of agents and publishers more than authors, but today, self-published authors without an independent editor will need to consider what genre to label their work. Just don’t become too obsessed with labels. Just write the best story possible, and worry about labeling it after it’s complete.

History is actually a writer’s dear friend. Historical fiction affords an unlimited treasure trove of material awaiting the author. You may find a time from the past calls you to write about it. When that happens, write