How Much History Can a Historical Fiction Writer Change? My Readers Weighed In

I asked my newsletter subscribers how much history a historical fiction writer should be allowed to change, and asked them to weigh in.

Here's what I wrote:

My Newsletter

A reader wrote to me recently with a very good question.

He had just finished Death at the School of Translators. He enjoyed the book, but there was one thing that bothered him.

In my book, Eleanor sends Rebecca and John to Toledo to investigate the murder of her spy, and later follows them there. Throughout the book, I give her considerably more influence in Castile than she historically possessed.

Eleanor of Aquitaine wasn't in Castile in 1193. And she certainly had no authority there.

I knew this when I wrote the book.

In Eleanor's case, I didn't invent the connection with Castile out of thin air. Her daughter, also named Eleanor, was Queen of Castile, married to Alfonso VIII.

And a few years after my book takes place, Eleanor of Aquitaine really did make a remarkable journey to Castile. In 1200, when she was nearly eighty, she travelled there to choose one of her granddaughters as a bride for the future king of France.

So I took a very real family and political connection and stretched it. Quite a lot.

But the reader's email got me thinking:

How much history is a historical fiction writer allowed to change?

I spend a lot of time researching these books. For Poison in the Season of Peace, my Christmas novella, I researched Ramadan in the Middle Ages, Hanukkah traditions, medieval Christmas celebrations, how Muslims living under Christian rule might have practiced their faith, medieval medicine, food, clothing—and all sorts of tiny details that probably occupy far too much space in my brain now.

And then I changed an important detail: the premise of Poison is that Christmas, Hanukkah and Ramadan all fall during the same period in December 1193. Toledo attempts something extraordinary: allowing the three faiths to celebrate together in the Plaza de Zocodover.

Historically, the three holidays did not converge that year.

That was a deliberate change I made because I wanted to tell this particular story. But this time, I added a note to the reader explaining what I had changed.

Perhaps that's where the distinction lies for me.

I want the world surrounding Rebecca and John to be as historically grounded as I can make it. But Rebecca and John are fictional, and so are the murders they investigate.

And sometimes I bend the historical record because there's a story I really want to tell.

The reader who wrote to me believes historical mysteries should also teach us about the past, and that readers should be able to trust the history they encounter.

I think that's a fair point.

But I'm curious what you think.

Where do you draw the line in historical fiction?

Should a writer be allowed to move a real person to a place they weren't actually in? Give them powers they didn't really have? Shift a historical date to make a story possible?

Would Eleanor wielding more power in Castile than she really had bother you? Or are you willing to forgive me if the story is good enough?

Hit reply and tell me. I'm very much want to know where you draw the line.

That's me during my research trip to Toledo. My face isn't very clear, but never mind me—look at the magnificent architecture of the Synagogue of Santa María la Blanca. Built in the late 12th or early 13th century, it features rows of horseshoe arches, beautifully carved capitals, and intricate geometric decoration. It's a wonderful example of Mudéjar architecture, combining Islamic artistic traditions with a Jewish place of worship in Christian Toledo.

I got many replies.

What My Readers Said:

The replies were interesting, and not everyone agreed.

Some readers felt that historical fiction should remain as faithful to the historical record as possible.

One reader wrote:

"Having important and somewhat relatively well know historical figures do something they wouldn't or couldn't do, is pushing literary license a bit too much simply because many would read this and accept as fact."

Others argued that fiction needs room to invent. If you toe the line and describe only actual specific events in your story, the book stops being a novel and becomes a history book instead. Another reader put it even more simply:

"I expect fiction in historical fiction."

And one history enthusiast offered an example from The Three Musketeers:

"The queen of France and Duke of Buckingham having an (unsubstantiated) relationship, is ok (so as) to help on the story, but him storming Paris in a flying balloon (which will be invented a couple centuries later) is not."

Very good distinction.

But what struck me most was how often readers mentioned the importance of an author's note.

A note, to be clear that it was not a lack of research overlook, but a deliberate author choice.

Another reader explained:

"One of the reasons I love Author's Notes at the end of books is so I walk away knowing where they took creative liberties and how much of the story is based on known history."

Another response introduced a new line of thought:

"The most important is respect for the reader. When the story is good enough, a bit of tweaking to make the story work is certainly allowable."

That same reader went on to say:

"And the ‘Note to the Reader’ at the beginning or the end to highlight the author’s decision is the difference between lazy indifference/ignorance and an appreciation of the reader’s time and loyalty to the story."

What I've Decided

I began this discussion wondering how much history a writer should be allowed to change.

I still don't think there's a simple answer.

Some readers want the historical record followed closely, while others are perfectly happy to forgive a few liberties if the story is good.

But the replies made me realize that I can do better.

I included an author's note in Poison in the Season of Peace, explaining why I brought Christmas, Hanukkah and Ramadan together in December 1193.

But I didn't include a similar explanation in Death at the School of Translators.

So I've decided to add an author's note to Death at the School of Translators, explaining Eleanor of Aquitaine's real connection to Castile and where I departed from history.

It won't change the story. But readers will know what I've changed, and why.

I spend a great deal of time researching the medieval world, and I'm still learning. Apparently, I'm also learning how to be a better historical fiction writer.

And that's one of the pleasures of having readers who are willing to challenge me.

Thank you to everyone who wrote back. You've given me something useful to take into my next book.

Now I'm curious what you think. Do you read authors' notes in historical novels? And would knowing that a writer deliberately changed a historical fact make you more forgiving of the liberty—or less?