Part Four: From Gathering Documents to Beginning to Write

During the research phase, you're like a fisherman or a miner. You cast out your nets, and you don't quite now what you're going to bring in; or you're gathering your nuggets. But then you have to sort out what it all means. You have to begin piecing things together, and figuring out how to write it all up. You now become more like an architect, and then a builder. This whole process calls for a certain method. Everyone has their own, but let me describe how I myself work.

The key thing is the collection of xeroxed documents I've gotten from various archival and microform sources. I obviously don't xerox everything I read, and often unxeroxed documents have a certain value in giving you a sense of the whole picture, confirming your ideas about what is going on, and so on. But I like to xerox the more important documents, or important extracts from documents--the sort of thing I think I might want to quote from or at least cite, and especially the sort of document I might want to come back to. When I get such a document, practically the first thing I do is write the archival or other source reference at the bottom of the first page, so I will be able to write up a footnote easily when the time comes. I arrange the documents in simple chronological order. Then I read through all the documents in order, marking them up as I do so. I also write a brief comment to remind myself of the importance of the document on one of those slightly sticky "post 'em" sheets, which I then tack on to the front of the document. That sheet might also include some indication of the topic, or topics, this document relates to--for example, "Franco-German nuclear question," or, in abbreviated form, something like "Fr-Ger nuc q." Then I go through and make lists of documents for each of those topics. These I list only by date, the minimum I need to find it in the pile.

At the same time, I also go through the published material, especially the diplomatic documents, and above all the relevant volumes in FRUS. Sometimes, the published material is so rich that it is the basic source, and archival materials, when used, are of purely ancillary importance. I personally like to buy the FRUS volumes--they now cost about $35 postpaid, and can be ordered over the phone from the Superintendant of Documents, (202) 512-1800, and paid for by credit card--and mark them up in much the same way. References to documents in published works and to secondary sources can be added to those same topical lists.

When it comes time to write up a section relating to that topic, I use the list to dig out the documents, re-read them, re-read the relevant passages in the published material, think about what it all boils down to, then write out my outline for that section. I then begin to write with the documents in front of me. I then often go back to do targeted research, aimed at filling in gaps or tying up loose ends. In this connection, you might also want to take a look at the final piece in History and Strategy.

My basic feeling, in other words, is that historical texts should be organized around points. The historical evidence presented should bear on the particular point being raised. If something is not directly relevant to a point, it should not be included. Narrative history, where evidence is presented for its own sake, no longer has much appeal for me. I think now that one has to go right into what the reader is interested in, and speak directly to those interests: what is new here, what is important here, how does it conflict with--how does it force changes in--what people have come to believe? And those points have to be organized into argument. To construct one, you have to figure out what the logic is that ties your various points together.

What generates the points around which a text is to be structured? The answer is simple. You just think about what struck you as surprising--especially what struck you as amazing or as shocking--when you were doing your work. What exactly forced you to change your own mind, especially on basic issues? If you can ever say "boy was I wrong!" you are in luck, because that sort of thing is gold in your hands. That gives you something to organize your text around, and guarantees that you will be saying real things, things which are bound to be of real interest to your reader. It is this approach that allows you to answer the dreaded "who cares?" question--and you have to be able to answer it preemptively if your work is going to make any impact at all. It has to be obvious to the reader why your work matters, and it is your job, and not his or hers, to make sure that the reader can see what the point of your work is. You want your work to penetrate, and your writing therefore has to be sharp; the evidence has to be concentrated and well-marshaled in order to maximize the impact of the argument.

This, at any rate, is the method I've come to believe in. It's very different from the one I used when I wrote my dissertation in 1971. Of course, you're bound to develop your own method, based on your own needs, tastes, and skills. But it makes sense to think a bit about what you are doing, and what precise method makes sense for you.

One last thing. What if you're interested in writing for publication? Here I'd suggest you take a look at a very nice guide written by Michael Carley (and reproduced by permission of the author), "Publish Well and Wisely," and attached here as a link. This guide is full of good advice, and you might want to read it, especially if you're just beginning an academic career.