A Guide to Rich Sensory Details: And Tips on Australian Settings

But with that being said, historical short stories are still relatively new to the literary world of historical fiction (where I now choose to write) and the format only really took off around 2003, so… the early shoots are still quite green… but if you’re itching to explore the past through longer form fiction—like in the case of the novella, or full length novel, then you can bet your house on this engrossing genre which offers so many opportunities for historical fiction writers, and alike[6].

Yet here’s the thing about historical novels; they have this amazing advantage over your conventional history books, in that the readers can actually connect with people from the past and gain a feeling through nostalgia… through speech, and through attire… and even through outdated beliefs, because the way people felt, and the way they were seeing life, 50-100 years ago, can absolutely shine through on the page, in this super and incredible way.

Kate Grenville’s well-known novel: The Secret River creates a strong link between readers and historical figures.

She allows readers to experience the feelings of colonial Australia through characters who seem real for their time.

Dr. Sarah Johnson, in her key work: Historical Fiction: A Guide to the Genre,” points out that this empathetic imagination makes historical fiction so effective for understanding the past beyond just facts and dates.

Although, when you’re writing, you’ve got to be super careful, because we’re now navigating our way into a genre where authenticity absolutely matters! And, what I mean by that is, you can’t go tossing in unsightly words and terminology into your work, or just go by making up bogus facts—just for the sake of story—because words like yeet and rizz are not only cringeworthy but simply don’t fit into a 1830s Britain or France, and Adolf Hitler didn’t, in fact enjoy disco, or going skateboarding on the weekends—it just doesn’t work. So, unless you want your readers closing the book after page two, leave the modern buzzwords and the make-believe nonsense out.

Tools like Google ngrams are an absolute gem of a resource when you’re trudging through suitable word usage, and through times that we might often find difficult to understand, and ngram can help us ground down into the facts and help us avoid those unsightly and embarrassing anachronisms that only serve to rip your readers focus far and away from the page.

In his in-depth look at The Historical Novel, Professor Jerome de Groot points out that: authenticity in historical fiction comes not from an obsession with factual minutiae but from creating a convincing sensory and psychological world [6]

What sets apart unforgettable historical fiction from simple historical recreation is this balance between historical accuracy and gripping storytelling.

But good historical settings need more than just accuracy, too, and if you ever read a book that drowns you in historical facts but forgets to tell a story, then you’ll know what I mean, and you’ll likely also know what I mean when I say that it can be bloody painful to endure!

And, with that said, we need to choose just the right details and mix it in with just the right amount. Australian settings (my personal favorite!), for instance, absolutely demands vivid sensory descriptions that sweep readers up while staying true to the relevant facts, and whether you’re writing a sprawling family saga or a tight standalone story, you need strong dialogue, narration, scene setting, and sensory description to create characters that not only live and breathe in the moment, but invite the readers along for the ride.

So, before we dive into that, I’m going to show you some practical ways you can research and build your historical worlds in the most authentic way by employing all five senses. Create characters that aren’t cardboard  cut-outs, and balance your storytelling with some well-research historical accuracy. We’ll be paying a particular focus on Australian settings, well because that’s where I live, and where I was born. And… if we’re being perfectly honest, who doesn’t love a good story set in the Australian outback?

Table of Contents

Start with the Right Historical Fiction Research

• Use primary sources like letters and diaries
• Explore Australian archives and oral histories
• Avoid overloading your story with facts

Build a Believable World with Small Details

• Focus on everyday objects and routines 
• Use period-specific language and slang
• Include cultural references unique to Australia

Use the Five Senses to Create Authentic Australian Fiction Settings

• Smell: eucalyptus, smoke, or sea air
• Sound: native birds, colonial tools, or silence
• Touch: fabric, tools, and natural textures
• Sight: landscapes, clothing, and architecture

Create Characters That Reflect Their Time

• Understand historical values
• Use letters and journals to shape inner voice
• Avoid modern thinking in historical minds

Balance Storytelling with Historical Accuracy

• Let plot drive the use of historical facts
• Use settings as a backdrop, not the main event
• Know when to simplify for clarity

Start with the Right Historical Fiction Research

The lifeblood of any fiction no doubt lies in thorough planning and a good outline, but when it comes to historical fiction, we also need to add in some very solid and fundamental research into the mix.

And, before I even get to writing a single scene, I need to know that I’ve gathered all the relevant and period-specific details that will bring my narrative to life. And when we’re talking historical fiction, primary sources are absolute gold mine for this kind of work.

Use primary sources like letters and diaries

Primary sources provide authors with a firsthand account of historical events and the experiences we want to write about. Plus… it offers us with a clear glimpse into the past.

These resources can include diaries, letters, photographs, newspaper articles, advertisements, memoirs, audio recordings, and official records.

Personal diaries: let us indulge in life’s daily details—from whatever period you’re exploring—and a personal diary is a perfect example of details you won’t find in most traditional history books.

[For Australian historical fiction writing, these personal accounts are invaluable primary sources that reveal the unique challenges faced by early settlers, Indigenous peoples and immigrants]

Things such as the price of milk for the time, daily weather, public mood, and the rumours that were floating around at the time. Who kicked who in the family’s latest argument, or even a strictly taboo love affair—all which would be highly relevant to your character, and because these are the small, yet significant details which create depth and texture, and make historical fiction feel authentic and alive.

The Journal of Historical Fiction Studies shows how these personal historical records uncover the emotional truth of a time that often doesn’t appear in official histories.

When conducting research for his Booker Prize-winning novel: True History of the Kelly Gang, Peter Carey dove into primary documents, including Ned Kelly’s Jerilderie Letter.

This allowed him to create a voice for his main character that sounds genuine to its period while still being easy for today’s readers to understand.

Letters and journal entries: These work as stylistic models too, and reading people’s private correspondence—while it may also feel a little creepy—does help to capture period-appropriate language, concerns, and points of view. These documents also show us:

Explore Australian archives and oral histories

Specialised archives can often be jam-packed with historical nuggets, and the National Archives of Australia holds government documents from the nation’s founding (providing essential context for Australian Historical Fiction set during colonial times), while state archives show records of daily life.

The First Fleet Collection at the State Library of New South Wales gives key insights into early colonial life, while the Australian Institute of Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Studies (AIATSIS) provides essential resources to understand Indigenous views on past events[11].

Thomas Keneally, who gained worldwide recognition for his thorough research for Schindler’s Ark, promotes what he calls immersive archival research [13].

This approach involves writers spending time with original documents until they begin to hear the voices.[5]

For those looking into local Melbourne stories, the Royal Historical Society of Victoria keeps extensive records that can offer the small details that make historical settings come alive.

Then there’s the Australian Joint Copying Project, which is nice enough to allow people like us to access documents from 1560 to 1984, which, mind you, includes materials from UK Government Departments and even personal archives of politicians, explorers, scientists, and some good old, hearty convicts.

Oral histories add another vital layer to our research efforts, and Australia’s largest oral history collection sits in the National Library of Australia—probably covered in mothballs—and it contains some 55,000 hours of recordings, with the earliest being from the 1950s.

These audio recordings capture the individual points of view which are often missing from written documents, and the collection contains:

Avoid overloading your story with facts

Don’t forget, it’s okay to make a joke or two here, and it’s Australian historical fiction, after all, and we’re a jovial bunch who enjoy a laugh, but while your fascinating discoveries might tempt you to show everything, holding back is actually the key here, because—in our instance at least—great research can’t always replace good storytelling… so it’s vital we remain strict with historical details, and… in a way which moves the plot forward or deepens characters, without bogging down readers with superfluous fluff.

Eleanor Dark’s approach in: The Timeless Land demonstrates the seamless incorporation of historical events into a story providing a backdrop rather than taking center stage.

Her work showcases how Australian settings can take on character-like qualities while still allowing the human tale to propel the narrative.

A good way to start, I reckon, is to make a timeline of all the major historical events which matter to your story. Then cut out extra facts that might slow down the narrative.

I also like reading my work out loud or writing with music (mostly jazz or classical) playing in the background, because it helps you feel the rhythm of your writing. Plus, it helps me to spot places where historical information bog down the story and destroy the beat. And whiles this might sound silly at first (the beat), it definitely works!

Because remember… readers want a novel, not a history lecture filled with primary sources ( and sans story), so your goal should be to make it work as fiction, in general, and create a place where characters know only what someone from their time, place, and position would likely know etc, then add a little bit of spice to it and create the perfect balance of an historically authentic narrative that enhances your story—as opposed to making it feel like drilling teeth.

Dr. Kate Mitchell’s study: History and Cultural Memory in Neo-Victorian Fiction reveals that good historical fiction doesn’t just copy the past[14].

Instead, it looks at history through today’s eyes.

This lets authors steer clear of out-of-place elements while still crafting stories that naturally clicks with readers.

Build a Believable World with Small Details

Small details matter, because they are the foundations of what makes up a believable historical world and grounds the reader. But you know what… big historical events don’t always transport readers into another time and place as effectively as the simple aspects of daily life[11].

Mark Sullivan puts it well: The best historical novels transport the reader to another time and place so convincingly that it is like being swept away.

Focus on everyday objects and routines

And it’s the everyday objects which carry powerful cultural significance, too. Plus they ground your story in a specific era; especially with Australian history, where settings can come alive with the iconic items like the Stackhat bicycle helmet, Dolphin torch, or Nylex flip-top bin. And… it’s because of these simple objects that writers can trigger powerful nostalgia and cultural memories for people who grew up in Australia between the 1960s and 1990s. I still remember my first Stackhat. It was bright orange and extremely dorky, but my mum would scream at me if I didn’t put it on!

Daily rituals and routines matter just as much, and I always ask myself these timely, yet simple questions:

I call this a pattern of life, but it can also help readers to gain a feel for the authentic pulse of the era, and it highlights how important and meaningful everyday objects and tasks really are to us.

Use period-specific language and slang

Some things will always remain a constant, but language changes all the time, and it has done so all throughout history. So… it should go without saying that your dialogue must match your time period, and even little anachronisms can do a lot of damage by snapping your readers out of your careful crafted reading experience, and many authors even goes so far as banning words from their stories[15].

So, here’s how to handle language in Australian settings[1]:

Australian English has unique rhyming slang that creates new terms even today, and words like dog’s eye (meat pie), dead horse (sauce), or Harold Holt (bolt/run away) add real flavour to your dialogue. Plus, Australian diminutives like the –o suffix (think smoko, aka afternoon tea) make your setting more authentic.

Include cultural references unique to Australia

Australia’s rich cultural mix of characters offers up plenty of material for historical fiction, and when you consider that First Nations history dates back 65,000 years, while British settlement only started in 1788, it sorta creates a sharp contrast which effectively shapes the real Australian story—especially when each particular history meets, and the First Nations People view actually provides some crucial context for Australian historical fiction.

Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander storytelling traditions keep narratives alive through oral traditions, while their concepts are continually passed on via specific cultural practices, such as languages, traditional laws, and family relationships. But… in the case of British Australian stories… they’d normally include references to unique occurrences in their history with things like:

When you’re looking into everyday objects for world-building, the National Museum of Australia’s online exhibitions are a great resource.

They show you visuals of common items from different time periods. Richard Flanagan’s book: Wanting shows how paying close attention to colonial settings in Tasmania can make a historical world feel real without bogging down the story[2].

If you’re writing historical fiction set in Queensland, the Queensland Historical Atlas has a lot to offer.

It gives you in-depth geographic and cultural details that can make your setting more believable.

Thoughtful use of these cultural elements is what’ll make your historical fiction genuinely Australian, and Kim Scott shows how stories that survive cultural brutalism while offering authentic alternatives to nationalistic myths which only serve to make the genre richer through alternative views.

Use the Five Senses to Create Authentic Australian Fiction Settings

Sensory details help to bring historical settings come to life, and it brings about the added benefit of fascinating readers with an immersive experience, along the way, and according to writers at DIY MFA, The smells of a historical setting can be difficult to pin down… but smells can be particularly evocative, so it’s worth putting in the work [19][23].

[Sensory details in historical fiction transform research into immersive experiences, especially when writing about Australian settings with their distinctive environmental characteristics]

Smell: eucalyptus, smoke, or sea air

A particular scent is something which can definitely bridge, or build a powerful connection to memory and emotions, while also drawing us into an environment which is being described, but it can also go that extra step forward by detailing distinctive aromas that anchor into a narrative that’s not only a specific time, but also place, anywhere throughout Australian historical fiction.

And let’s take the rich eucalyptus smell after rainfall as an example, or the smoke wafting from a cold winters’ morning campfire, or the briny tang of the coastal sea breeze which can go a long way into creating an authentic atmosphere[10].

Your writing aim should be to bottle this essence, and I can still remember the first time I went camping in the bush as a kid, and that smell of cool eucalyptus that hits you, first thing in the morning. It’s a memory which always brings me back to home, but I can also take things like that and turn it into my writing.

Dr. Hayden White’s groundbreaking book: Metahistory highlights how vivid details in historical stories help readers not grasp but also feel the past.

Tara June Winch’s book: The Yield shows this method in action using colorful language to link readers to Country and Aboriginal life in ways that regular history books manage.

Sound: native birds, colonial tools, or silence

Australian soundscapes have changed dramatically since colonisation, and even in just this past twenty or so years, but even our own colonial records show how the ceremonial possession of land is deeply linked to an aural sense of connection, with sounds becoming tools of imaginative and actual appropriation.

And even the earliest colonisers used strategies of sensory imperialism and imposed British soundscapes usurp the land, with even the sound of drumbeats marking the start of a working day, or tattoos signalling the sunset.

Yet even a native bird’s call has managed to persevere through that, and with the aid of recordings like Bird and Animal Calls of Australia (1968), we can add an authentic background texture to our writing.

The Airplane Jelly Song, too… from 1938–although not nature—was played up to 100 times a day on Sydney radio, marking it as a specific historical period. Or even a kookaburra’s laughter, recorded in the 1950s, can stun you; if not only to remind you how much their call has stayed the same while everything else around us has changed!

[These authentic Australian soundscapes are crucial elements for historical world-building that can distinguish your historical fiction from generic period pieces]

Professor Ann Rigney’s study on The Afterlives of Walter Scott shows how sensory details act as links between the past and present resulting in what she dubs portable monuments in readers’ minds[17].

Thea Astley’s gut-wrenching portrayals in: A Kindness Cup illustrate how well-placed sensory details can depict historical violence and trauma with proper care while still conveying their emotional weight.

Touch: fabric, tools, and natural textures

Tactile sensations ground readers into a biblio-reality, and the rough homespun garments against skin, or the colonial tools weighed into the calloused hands, and… the Australian soil stuck deep beneath fingernails all paints vivid pictures through. Or the physical interactions which can reveal characters’ connection with the land.

Or… take this for instance: from the red dust of the outback that works its way into your skin to the salty coastal air that rusts the gate hinges.

Taste: bush tucker, rations, or colonial meals

Australasian’s love their grub, and food history fills any fiction with rich sensory details. First Nations people, for instance, ate up to 5,000 species of Australian flora and fauna, including kangaroo, emu, bush berries, and macadamia nuts. While the colonial rations featured bread, salted meat and tea with daily rationing of rum.

A labourers’ weekly wages could have included 4.5kg of meat, 4.5kg of flour, 1kg sugar and 100g of tea, and these ingredients all contributed to simple campfire meals of damper, billy tea, and meat which can, and does provide a stokingly rich set of sensory details which paint the daily patterns of life.

Sight: landscapes, clothing, and architecture

Rich visual elements and landscape is what shapes Australian historical fiction, and in a vital way, because it filters into what makes our stories quite unique, and the Australian landscape, itself, can stand as both setting and character, any way you spin it, which presents writers with a unique storytelling opportunity.

And you can try this piece, from Miles Franklin on for size:

Create Characters That Reflect Their Time

I am the sole author of the dictionary that defines me. 

~ Therese Anne Fowler, Acclaimed historical fiction novelist

Crafting characters that ring true to history means grasping how people’s mindsets differed in past times[8].

[Creating authentic characters in historical fiction requires understanding the unique pressures and perspectives of people living in Australian settings during your chosen time period]

Dr. Jerome Bruner’s work on narrative psychology in: Making Stories looks at how the stories a culture tells shape how people see themselves—a key insight for writers of historical fiction who want to create characters who think in ways that fit their era[3].

Alexis Wright’s approach to building characters in: Carpentaria shows how fiction can give voice to sidelined viewpoints without forcing today’s ideas onto them.

Therefore, our goal in writing is to create authentic historical characters, but it takes more than just period correct costumes and settings to pull this off. And that’s because characters in historical fiction must embody their era’s spirit to remain authentic. And… with that said, they should at least be interacting with the core values, conflicts, and aspirations true to their times—if not embodying them.

Understand historical values and beliefs

All characters emerge from their historical period, within some frame or context.

This is what we might see as taboo today could very well have been considered acceptable behaviour, for the time, and regardless of whether we agree with it, or not.

To name but one example… smoking was incredibly common and glamorous… up until at least the 1950s and was even acceptable when travelling via commercial airways—up to the 70s.

However, today’s laws differ dramatically, they most certainly can’t be applied retrospectively—a fact that I believe should apply to historical fiction.

But our educational norms changed throughout history too, particularly in the way society chose educate girls, and the discipline of errant boys (I grew up in an era where physical punishment was encouraged in schools), or the fact that working-class children often left school early to support their families, and that young-adult woman were often pressured into marriage.

A solid grasp of these social constructs—for ill, or goodwill—can help you in creating characters behave consistently with their time period and add authenticity to your narrative[4].

Use letters and journals to shape inner voice

If you truly want to capture authentic historical voices, then personal collections or personal journals and letters give us a direct window into the lives of the historical figures’ we’re writing about. That and, the fact that they can reveal characters thoughts, emotions, and daily activities better than any other source. Plus… us, as Australian writers can readily gain access to such collections via the National Archives or state libraries—so why not use them.

Avoid modern thinking in historical minds

And perhaps the toughest part in crafting historical characterisation could be found in trying to avoid anachronistic attitudes. Now, take this for instance: a Regency hero who believes in racial equality and treats women as equals. Do you think he’s going to need a solid backstory, or… some explaining of these progressive views?[16]

I ask this, because one needs to consider these attitudes… particularly where they did not come from your run-of-the-mill male, of the day. And likewise… a medieval character would not know about individualism or inalienable rights, because these ideas didn’t arrive until Renaissance, Enlightenment, and other intellectual movements but by now, I think we’re getting the point, and historical stories also face other unique challenges with characters’ emotional expressions. For example, people from different periods showed vulnerability in unique ways, which tended to filter through their codes of propriety, religion, or duty.

Professor Martha Nussbaum’s book: Poetic Justice examines how reading stories helps us understand historical viewpoints that might seem strange to us today.

The Dictionary of Sydney and the Trove digital archive from the National Library of Australia offer life details about people from the past, which can help create believable characters.

Jackie French’s method of writing kids in historical stories shows how authors can craft genuine voices from the past that today’s readers can still connect with.

Balance Storytelling with Historical Accuracy

I feel like I’ve said this about a billion times, throughout my articles, but it begs repeating, because the art of historical fiction requires that writers find the right balance between factual accuracy and storytelling—if they want to connect with readers in a meaningful. And yes… it’s true that even the most carefully researched novel should serve the story rather than display the author’s knowledge of history—in which case it’s just becoming a mad flex, rather than actual writing—and readers don’t care too much for that.

Let plot drive the use of historical facts

With that said, your narrative should still be benefiting from historical facts without allowing the story to become bogged down in them, and because writers can easily get caught up in creating background material… which leads them to a point of forgetting to actually tell the damn story.

I recommend a sequential outlining of all major historical events and relevant information… which should help you to identify which facts are vital to your story, and which parts can get stored in file-thirteen—or be kept for a rainy day.

Also look for paragraphs which slow down your narrative rhythm, throughout the editing phase. And if you’re finding that your story contains too much historical detail and reading your manuscript out loud feels like driving a nail into your eyeball, then this will help you to gauge a proper feel for whether it’s too much and needs peeling back.

At the end of the day, it’s going to save your eyeballs, so… be thorough with your research, but brutal with your editing and reviews, then take those five fascinating nuggets you want to include. Then… keep just one or two so you can get on with drafting your story.

Dr. Richard Slotkin’s book: Gunfighter Nation looks at how stories about the past shape our cultural views[18].

He points out that: the most successful historical fiction captures emotional truths rather than documentary facts.[7]

Geraldine Brooks shows this balance in her research for novels like: Year of Wonders and March.

Her background as a reporter gives her the skills to dig deep into facts, while her novelist’s gut feeling keeps the human element at the heart of her stories.

Use setting as a backdrop, not the main event

With that in mind, your story still needs to keep the historical settings as a frame, not as the centrepiece, and while the setting does help the characters and plot develop naturally—by shaping their decisions, relationships, and personal growth—they should be there to show how such historical events can, or have affected your characters’ instead of presenting an unbiased account. That’s what historians do… not novelists.

Know when to simplify for clarity

Mark Twain once wisely noted: Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities.

And, sometimes, what really happened isn’t believable in fiction, because it’s either too complex or too contradictory… via an accurate historical account, but it does serve you up the wholesome opportunity to guide your readers through the details, in a simplified manner which makes your points clear[9].

And the author’s note becomes your best friend here, because you can use it to explain where you’ve changed historical details to serve the story. Plus, it serves to keep you honest with detail-oriented readers, because while the emotional truths of the era matter more than perfect accuracy… your readers can always sniff out the bullshit.

Therefore, your story should capture these moments in history, while still keeping readers grounded in a historical reality.

Kim Scott’s: Benang shows how to strike a balance between historical truth and gripping storytelling.

It proves that fiction has the power to tackle tough historical facts while keeping readers hooked through well-crafted characters and plot.

Scott’s approach highlights how different viewpoints can deepen our grasp of Australian history going beyond patriotic legends.

Conclusion

Mastering Australian Historical Fiction Writing is a skill which will take your readers on a journey, through time, while still striking a keen balance between historical accuracy and compelling storytelling.[21]

But if my research and writing experience has taught me anything, it’s that authenticity doesn’t come from overwhelming detail.

Instead, it emerges from carefully chosen sensory elements that make history breath new life, and Australian settings are a goldmine of material.

Right from the distinct smell of eucalyptus, through to the unique landscape and the cultural touch points which shape our national identity.

The success of historical fiction relies more on capturing an essence of time, rather than recreating a perfect chronology of events, and therefore characters need to be true products of their environment, not merely modern people wearing period costumes.

And… without doubt, primary sources give writers’ some of the best insight, with sources like personal diaries, letters, or firsthand accounts that honestly reveal authentic voices, from the past, and serves to help writers avoid the pitfalls of out-of-place language and attitudes.

But where research is the foundation of historical writing, writers must learn to be ruthless with their findings, because the facts should improve the narrative—overwhelm it.[20]

The same should be said for sensory details, because they work best when they serve the story, and such details invite readers to feel colonial Australia’s gritty texture through all their senses. And writers who become skilled at historical fiction know that this makes for memorable storytelling, and Australian historical fiction gives writers endless chances to dive into our complex past.

But the biggest challenge isn’t finding material… it’s creating stories that stay true to history while keeping modern readers hooked, while also noting that your main duty is to the story itself, and any historical accuracy is only there to provide writers with a solid grounding. And that it’s always the emotional truth which makes your fiction last[12].

[Using primary sources for historical fiction allows writers to uncover the authentic voices and sensory experiences that make Australia’s history unique, from the distinctive eucalyptus tree scents to the cultural touch points which define the nations identity.]

Finally… it can go without saying that well-researched settings do create authenticity, and characters push the narrative forward, but their struggles, hopes, and fears are what actually shapes them… within the historical context, and that this is, in fact a universal phenomenon… in the overall human experience.[22]

So, knowing how to best employ this powerful tool will help you to create connections with readers across any era.

Other articles linked to How to Write Captivating Historical Fiction

What is Historical Fiction

10 Inspiring Primary Source Secrets

How to Write Historical Dialogue

Sensory Australia

Bibliography

Primary Academic Sources

1.        Blair, David, and Peter Collins: English in Australia. John Benjamins Publishing, 2001.

2.        Boyce, James: Van Diemen’s Land. Black Inc., 2010.

3.        Bruner, Jerome: Making Stories: Law, Literature, Life. Harvard University Press, 2003.

4.        Cooper, Katherine, and Emma Short: The Female Figure in Contemporary Historical Fiction. Palgrave Macmillan, 2017.

5.        Davis, Mark: Thomas Keneally’s Literary Journalism and Archival Research. Journalism Studies 14, no. 5 (2013): 684-696.

6.        De Groot, Jerome: The Historical Novel. Routledge, 2010.

7.        De Groot, Jerome: Remaking History: The Past in Contemporary Historical Fictions. Routledge, 2016.

8.        Heiss, Anita: Dhuuluu-Yala: To Talk Straight – Publishing Indigenous Literature. Aboriginal Studies Press, 2018.

9.        Heilmann, Ann, and Mark Llewellyn: Historical Fictions: Women, Representation and the Nineteenth-Century Past. Women: A Cultural Review 21, no. 1 (2010): 1-4.

10.  Howes, David, and Constance Classen: Ways of Sensing: Understanding the Senses in Society. Routledge, 2013.

11.  Karskens, Grace: The Colony: A History of Early Sydney. Allen & Unwin, 2010.

12.  Keen, Suzanne: Empathy and the Novel. Oxford University Press, 2007.

13.  Keneally, Thomas: Researching Historical Fiction: The Writer as Archivist. Australian Literary Studies 33, no. 3 (2018): 1-14.

14.  Mitchell, Kate: History and Cultural Memory in Neo-Victorian Fiction: Victorian Afterimages. Palgrave Macmillan, 2010.

15.  Moore, Bruce: Speaking Our Language: The Story of Australian English. Oxford University Press, 2008.

16.  Moreton-Robinson, Aileen: The White Possessive: Property, Power, and Indigenous Sovereignty. University of Minnesota Press, 2015.

17.  Rigney, Ann: The Afterlives of Walter Scott: Memory on the Move. Oxford University Press, 2012.

18.  Slotkin, Richard: Gunfighter Nation: The Myth of the Frontier in Twentieth-Century America. University of Oklahoma Press, 1992.

19.  Smith, Mark M: Sensing the Past: Seeing, Hearing, Smelling, Tasting, and Touching in History. University of California Press, 2008.

Additional Resources for Historical Fiction Writers

20.  Atkinson, Kate: In My Research for Historical Fiction, I Try to Find the Color of the Wallpaper. The Guardian, June 8, 2019.

21.  Mantel, Hilary: The Day Is for the Living. BBC Reith Lectures, June 2017.

22.  Thom, James Alexander: The Art and Craft of Writing Historical Fiction. Writer’s Digest Books, 2010.

23.  Williams, David. The Practice of History: Research Methods for Creative Writers. TEXT 20, no. 1 (2016): 1-20.

RESOURCES