The Fact About Fiction

We’ve been talking non-fiction/fiction this week. I’ve learned much from Katy and Debbie – and my TBR list has grown because of all the excellent recommendations from our readers. I read loads of non-fiction, quirky stuff from YA books explaining environmentalism, to books on writing, to biography (currently reading the biography of C.S. Lewis’s wife Joy Davidman Gresham), to info/reference volumes. I read very little Christian non-fiction. There are reasons for that, but I won’t go into it here. I do have a Christian non-fiction recommendation, though. When I was going through a disastrous time in my life (one of many), I found a slim book by M. Craig Barns called When God Interrupts. There’s a long story that goes with this book, but suffice it to say, it was sustaining. Now, on to today’s fiction/non-fiction topic.

I have a theory. Goes like this: All fiction is fact that never happened (except it did). I realize this reads muddy, but allow me to explain.

On Monday, Katy opened our eyes to the notion that fiction is empathy. That it helps us to lean into the human condition, not to judge, but to understand and identify. I agree wholeheartedly. And I’d like to build on that thought. If empathy may be created through reading the made up stories of invented characters, then this implies that the stories do in fact contain truth that can be construed, and then applied to our lives.

Let’s break my theory down:

“All fiction is fact--” One of the reasons we must create rich, layered characters of depth who possess both good and negative qualities is because to do otherwise is a form of self-delusion. We would be lying to ourselves. When we, as writers, insist our character reacts to the troubles around her with only pure motive, altruism, and honest action, we are attempting to turn a blind eye to the totality of truth about ourselves. And in our efforts to write a bright story of human hope, we end up with a fiction that contains no truth.

“Fact that never happened”. Fiction is an account of true emotion. Story reflects and explores the essence of humanity. Fiction is a map of us. An emotional biography. It is the opportunity to explore the truth about how we feel about ourselves, our neighbors, our place in the world. We explore this through stories that have happened to no one, to someone, to everyone. This is the mathematics of story – No one (invented character) + someone (reader interacting with richly textured characters inside story structure) = everyone (novels that allow many readers to identify with various and unlikely situations and people)

“(except it did)”. Once the reader begins reading, the story plays out inside the mind, heart, and imagination of the reader. It lives. It happens. The reader and the writer communicate this fact, tracing each other’s common experience of being through the connecting power of story.
Fiction is the breathing part of us. It’s a way for each of us to explore how to live out our humanity – and a way for us to glimpse at the ways other people live it out.

Writers, how does your writing crack open the experience of being human? Readers, what fiction have your read that has been an emotional biography for you? (and yes, you can answer as both a reader and a writer). We love to hear from you.

Truth is Stranger Than Fiction

When Katy asked in her excellent post on Monday what non-fiction books had moved us, I began to think about those which fool us into forgetting they are non-fiction at all. So I made a short-list, hoping you would add to it. I have not read all books on the list - and they aren't all in my TBR pile - but I have relied on reviews and recommendations also. Among them are award winners, required reading for school students, or have been made into movies, so the story elements are strong .

• Seabiscuit by Laura Hillenbrand. I found it to be a seamlessly woven tale with properly fleshed out characters which had me cheering for the underdog at the end. I would read more non-fiction books if they were guaranteed to convince like this one.
• The Perfect Storm by Sebastian Junger
• In Cold Blood by Truman Capote
• Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson & David Oliver Relin
• Calico Captive by Elizabeth Speare (while technically historical fiction, it is based on an actual narrative diary written in 1807)
• Farewell to Manzanar by Jeane Wakatsuki Houston and James D. Houston. This one was listed as an 'autobiographical novel'.
  
• The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks by Rebecca Skloot
• The Diary of Anne Frank
• Catch Me if You Can by Frank Abagnale
• Tuesdays With Morrie by Mitch Albom
• Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil by John Berendt
• The Hiding Place by Corrie Ten Boom, John/Elizabeth Sherrill

Again, we see the impact that can be made combining important issues with well developed characters, whether true or fictionalized. Can you add to the list? Or what issues do you think deserve to be set in story? We'd love to hear!

It's Just a Name...

Most of my writing career, I’ve published non-fiction. Once I wrote a short article about a woman who I’ll now call Gertie McGuiness, who lived next door to me when I was growing up. After I was married, I read a death announcement that put me into tears. I read the names of childhood playmates who were going to be pallbearers for Gertie McGuiness, other relatives I recognized. My husband and I rushed to the visitation at the funeral home – me sobbing, him holding me by the elbow.

We entered a crowded room of mourners and then – Gertie McGuiness walked toward me and said, “Hi, Latayne.” My husband said he had to hold me up.

“I th-thought you were dead,” I said. She chuckled, put her arm around me, and led me to the coffin where her sister-in-law – a woman also named Gertie who married one of the McGuiness brothers – lay serenely. Others in the room brushed aside tears and smiled at my sputtering delight at finding that my friend, the other Gertie McGuinness, was still alive.

So I wrote an article for our hometown newspaper (later reprinted nationally), called “Saying Goodbye to Gertie.” It was about redemption, getting someone back from the dead. I was eminently pleased with the whole matter.

But the next time I saw Gertie McGuiness, she seemed miffed. When I asked her what was wrong, she said, “You said I laughed. It was my sister-in-law’s funeral. I didn’t laugh.”

Of course she (like Sarah of old, now that I think about it) did indeed laugh. But she didn’t want to be remembered for insensitivity. It was her name on the line, after all.

You would have thought that lesson would have stuck with me a little better, but I thought fiction was different. In my novel Latter-day Cipher I named a minor character after a rather silly-sounding alias, something like “Rocky Richochet,” used briefly 20 years ago by a friend’s rebellious son. I characterized the character through the eyes of the villain, who called him “a punk kid.”

Imagine my distress last Sunday when my friend accosted me in the geographical middle of our church right after services and said sternly, “Did you or did you not call Rocky Richochet a punk kid?” He was angry.

I explained that in the book I had used versions of my own childrens’ names – of those characters, one died, two were infants, another was mentally unbalanced. They had been delighted in seeing details or names slipped into the narratives. He wasn’t dissuaded from his anger. (I have to admit I too began to become upset at the accusative tone, the public setting my friend chose.)

It was fiction, I kept saying to the man, it’s fiction.

But not to this man. I think he saw himself as the protector of his son's reputation, and he was not a bit pleased. And I don’t think he’ll get over it, though I apologized over and over.

How about you? Have you ever had any repercussions from using a name in your writing?