The Intersection of Truth and Fiction
By Barbara O'Neal | November 25, 2009 |
One of the questions that comes up for writers over and over again is, “how much of this book is true?”
A few days ago, a local book group invited me to come visit with them after they read The Goddesses of Kitchen Avenue, in which the main character is navigating a separation from her husband. Three other women are tossed on the waves of marriage, too: a young writer struggling for autonomy, a beautiful woman who has been valued too much for beauty and not her strength, and an old woman grieving the loss of her husband. As I am divorced, and relocated to a new city since that book was published, the question arose: was I writing my own story with Trudy?
Well, partly. I was writing about what interested me at that moment, which was the role marriage plays in a woman’s life (and what it might cost). But I have also been the young writer, trying to balance motherhood, marriage and fierce ambition. I have never been a great beauty like Jade, but I’ve been young and blonde enough to be exasperated when nobody took my brains seriously. (I was honestly astonished when I suddenly needed glasses for nearsightedness at age 23, and the world stopped brushing me off.) I have not yet been that old woman, grieving, but I can see how I might be one day.
All of those stories come from my experiences, my understanding of marriage, of women and their husbands. Not only my personal experiences, but the experiences of people I know, and those I’ve heard stories about and read about.
Every story a writer composes somehow emerges from the writer. But where to draw the line between truth and fiction might be hard to distinguish. I am not a character. The character is herself. Some of my experiences lend verisimilitude, perhaps, but mostly, I’m cobbling together bits of this and pieces of that, gathering anything and everything that might be helpful to create a sense of a whole world for a reader.
In my next book, The Secret of Everything (out December 29 from Bantam), the main character, Tessa Harlow, leads hiking tours all over the world until a freak accident forces her to take a break and reassess her life. Now, I am a passionate and devoted hiker, and I have hiked all over the world, but the character was born out of a girl-crush I had on a real hiking tour leader I met in France, a Brit named Pip.
Life, fantasy, art.
The working title of the book was 100 Breakfasts, the name of a café that is central to the tale, and here there is more depth. I love breakfast. My father used to take me to breakfast at a little café when I was small, and let me choose songs on the tabletop jukebox. My grandfather served breakfast at his café, Ed’s Kitchen in Temecula, California, in the late sixties. My ex-husband used to make an enormous production of Sunday breakfasts throughout our marriage, and—until they rebelled at about mid-teenager-hood—I joyfully cooked a hot breakfast for my sons every school morning of their lives. I love breakfast, and more, I love feeding people, as does the character of Vera in the book. She thinks cooking, tending to yourself and others in that way, can be healing. So do I. Therein lies the verisimilitude, the feeling of truth in the book.
Our work comes out of our histories, our belief systems, our experiences in the world. I grew up in Colorado during a time when every imaginable counter culturist could be found. My uncle and his very long haired hippie friends actually painted a school bus to drive around the country, living together in communal bliss. Those people didn’t just disappear—they grew up to give us organic farmers and slow food chefs and yoga teachers and social workers. A lot of that history soaked into this book, too, when my character returns to the town of her birth, to make peace with memories she can’t quite untangle.
The other part of writing fiction, however, is the making-stuff up part. The woman boxer in Goddesses? Made it up. The town of Los Ladrones in Secret of Everything? Made it up, every last little scrap.
And in fact, nearly everything in a book is made up, even if it isn’t. Jewel, the heroine of No Place Like Home, goes to her father’s restaurant and touches the bullet holes on the bar, a legacy of the Black Hand (aka Mafia), which actually had a pretty strong hold on Pueblo Colorado until at least the ‘50s. She’s talking about her love of the restaurant business and five gallon jars of pickle chips, which is also something true for me. But woven together with the conflict of her father who disowned her (made it up) and the family of women in the restaurant kitchen, cooking pasta (made it up), none of it is true.
The most pleasurable part of writing for me is that weaving of truth and lies to create something that is more true than real life. The father in Secret of Everything, a 60-something ex-hippie surfer who runs a margarita shack on the beach and thinks all of his animals reincarnate to come back to him, is nothing at all like my own father, a former state patrolman who has never lived more than 60 minutes from the hospital he was born in, but the book is dedicated to him because it is about how fathers foster security in their daughters. How does a father take care of his children? He gives her breakfast every day, even if (like Tessa’s father), he’s a wandering magician for Renaissance Fairs.
What’s real, and what’s not? Only the writer ever really knows for sure. And even then, I’m not sure we always know.
Do these questions ever give you trouble? How do real life and fiction flow together in your work?
Barbara O’Neal is the author of more than a dozen award-winning, bestselling novels, including the runaway bestseller, When We Believed in Mermaids, which has been published in more than 20 countries and spent many months on the Amazon Charts, as well as the Wall Street Journal, USA Today, and Washington Post bestseller lists. Barbara lives on the beach in rugged Oregon with her husband, a British endurance athlete who vows he’ll never lose his accent and their zoo of cats and dogs. You can find more information on her newsletter and where to find her on social media at barbaraoneal.com.
HA – hubby and I were talking about this last night. He was saying that he’s occasionally been uncomfortable with my use of something he’s done or said, in my fiction. I tried – rather unsuccessfully – to point out that it’s NOT really using real life in fiction, but taking inspiration from life and making up imaginary scenarios from it. Sometimes, though, a single phrase or action comes through relatively whole, and for reasons I don’t quite understand, this causes discomfort. Huh.
.-= Naomi´s last blog ..Wondering =-.
This does come up a lot for me. My husband, especially, has issue with the love interests of my female characters, as if he is in competition with them. Sounds funny on the surface, but he is a writer, too, and thus realizes that there is a part of me in everything I write. What he doesn’t see clearly, though, is which parts come from truth and which parts are purely made-up.
Naomi, my husband is quite the opposite. He enjoys when I use one of his traits in a character, or a direct quote from him. I think, again, this is because he is also a writer. He likes to know that I’m, at least somewhat, thinking about him when I shut out the world for a few moments to write my stories.
Barbara, this is an excellent post! Thank you so much for sharing it.
.-= Lydia Sharp´s last blog ..Guest Post: Connecting "Point of View" and "Show, Don’t Tell" =-.
I love breakfasts, too. Meals evoke wonderful childhood memories when my mom would cook. Or visits to friends’ homes where the smell of something yummy would lure me downstairs and be rewarded with good food and good company. :-)
I write a lot of my life experiences into my stories. Even if the details are not autobiographical (especially in my historical and horror fiction), I know I am always trying to capture the underlying truth.
When I feel hesitant to share, then I usually know I am on to something meaningful.
.-= Jewel/Pink Ink´s last blog ..Count Your Blessings =-.
Great post! I’ve been talking with my mom about this lately, because for her she feels cheated when she reads a made up story. She loves memoirs because they are ‘true’, and I think that can make people feel connected to the character. But well-written fiction can do the same thing, so in this case I think ‘Truth’ is relative. (check out my own creative writing blog)
.-= Sarah Allen´s last blog ..How to use Thanksgiving to your creative writing advantage =-.
I especially like to draw on the rawest, most painful real life experiences I’ve had. I can then touch upon the emotions I felt at the time, the pattern of events and circumstances that led up to the situation, and then use those powerful memories to infuse my writing. Not that I always mirror the situations exactly, or the people involved. But I do like to draw upon real life that way.
Character traits–yes! I’ve moved around a lot and met many different kinds of people. Bringing back a quirk I remember, a description, or an interesting occupation adds more depth to my characters.
Drawing the line between real life and fiction? Yes, I do wonder about it sometimes. I write in both speculative fiction and historical and they are polar opposites when it comes to using reality! Historical fiction (especially setting) has to ring true for its readers to be believable. Speculative fiction usually takes place in made-up worlds and places. But with the latter, I think some touches of the real world help readers. Something familiar to relate to.
Now, you’ve got the wheels in my head thinking deep about this subject!
So much good stuff here!
– “Every story a writer composes somehow emerges from the writer. But where to draw the line between truth and fiction might be hard to distinguish. I am not a character. The character is herself. Some of my experiences lend verisimilitude, perhaps, but mostly, I’m cobbling together bits of this and pieces of that, gathering anything and everything that might be helpful to create a sense of a whole world for a reader.”
Exactly!
– “The most pleasurable part of writing for me is that weaving of truth and lies to create something that is more true than real life.”
YES.
– “What’s real, and what’s not? Only the writer ever really knows for sure. And even then, I’m not sure we always know.”
LOL. So true…
I’m gonna have to quote this post on my blog (and link back, of course!). Thanks!
.-= Kristan´s last blog ..Rachel Is =-.
Like many of you, I’ve been prepping for Thanksgiving and this was my first chance to get back and comment. Naomi & Lydia, my partner likes to be in the midst of my daily stories (adventures with Christopher Robin) and I’m sure he doesn’t mind showing up in shadows.
Good insight, Jewel, about running into those points of resistance. And CS, all the better with speculative fiction. Is it Natalie Goldberg who suggests we tap into those powerful moments for timed writings?
Emotion in novels has to come from somewhere.
Kristan, glad you found some use in it. Wonder how I can use the slightly stiff neck I got from cooking and driving so much the past week.
.-= Barbara Samuel O’Neal´s last blog ..Slow Cooked, Chunky, Spicy Apple Butter =-.
[…] other day, Barbara Samuel at Writer Unboxed wrote a very eloquent post about “The Intersection of Truth and Fiction.” Every story a writer composes somehow emerges from the writer. But where to draw the line between […]