Speaking Your Truth Through Fiction
By Heather Webb | January 26, 2017 |
https://bit.ly/1BJnLiv
With so much happening in the news these days, I’ve been thinking a lot about truth. What is truth, exactly? Is it an objective fact that can be validated by concrete evidence, or is truth an abstract construct that gleans its meaning from the emotional experiences of an individual? Judges and cops will tell you, for every witness they question they hear a different version of the story. At what point do the fact-based truths and personal truths collide? More importantly, should we weave them into our fiction?
Absolutely.
For example, Josephine Bonaparte climbed in status from daughter of a meager sugar plantation owner to empress of France. Much of her climb involved hopping from man to man in search of stability, but she also had an eye for power. While promiscuity and “using” people isn’t something I necessarily condone, I still portrayed her as not only sympathetic, but likable. For one thing, it’s important to understand the context of the times. The French Revolution was a tumultuous and volatile time, so following the line of power not only meant her debts would be paid, but it meant she could avoid a date with Madame Guillotine. (She came within a hair’s width as it was.) The other issue was, her first husband financially abandoned her and their children, leaving her with no means to support herself. What choice did a woman of her social standing have?
Through my portrayal of this woman, my personal truth is clear: judgment should be rendered with care—or not rendered at all. In order to grasp why someone makes the choices they do, you have to understand the pressures they face, their traumas, and their belief systems. You have to, in a sense, become them. How would you feel in their shoes? Context always plays a part as well. Through the use of evidence-based facts as well as my personal truth, I have illustrated a vibrant picture of a fascinating woman. It may be weighted with feelings over facts, but it is a truth nonetheless.
Why is it important to take a stance in your fiction? To relate some sort of greater message through themes as well as your characters external and internal actions (and inaction)?
Because speaking your truth—taking a stance—is really the meat of your author voice. The banana in your banana split.
What the author has to say about certain aspects of life (philosophically and otherwise) bleeds into their narrative. You could also say the author’s backstory is funneled onto the page. Mix this philosophy and backstory with personal style and you have author voice. THIS is what readers connect to, either subconsciously or overtly.
Speaking your truth doesn’t mean every character sounds the same. A few notes on this:
- Stay true to your MC’s personality. A skilled writer can create a solid, believable character no matter how different they are from the author, yet still weave in the messages he/she wishes to convey. Perhaps the writer accomplishes this through supporting characters—antagonists, best friends, lovers, etc. There are many ways here.
- Cherry-pick the messages that make sense to the plot. Don’t force it. If you’re forcing a theme, it will feel phony and awkward to a reader.
- Take care not to come off preachy or pedantic, and avoid talking down to your readers. It’s insulting and ultimately a turn-off. As a historical fiction author, I must “teach the reader” without the book reading like nonfiction, as well as avoid the pitfall of making it come off like I have an agenda.
- Consider what makes sense for your genre and style. There’s a range of “truth-telling” in different kinds of books. We have the Kurt Vonnegut, Chuck Palahniuk, and Tom Robbins end of the spectrum in which the very story itself serves as a vehicle to demonstrate their philosophy. On the opposite end, we have the romance sector in which the characters are of the utmost importance. “Truth-telling” is a by-product. Loretta Chase for example, makes it clear that intelligent women are the heroines of their own lives, though one gleans this through a humorous tale of love with a happily ever after. No style is better than the other. It’s all about your goal, your voice, and your genre. Just remember to make the message poignant and relatable or it’s lost.
- Be careful not to confuse plot and character voice with author voice. They aid each other, but they are not one and the same. (This is a post for another day.)
This voice that you develop will begin to emerge outside of your pages as well—in articles, in social media, and in discussions, panels, or speeches. This is what your readers come to expect and seek out: your very unique perspective set off by your very unique style.
Which leads me to a rather philosophical question:
When a strong sense of voice is missing, does this mean the author has no opinions of their own, no personal truths? Perhaps the writer’s skills simply haven’t developed enough. It could also be a question of the writer not being bold enough to speak his/her mind. It’s too risky. OR, maybe the writer doesn’t know themselves very well at all….
What do you think? Should a writer speak their truths through their fiction, or are our works little to no indication of who we are as people?
Heather Webb is the USA Today bestselling and award-winning author of historical fiction. As a freelance editor and an adjunct in a MFA in Creative Writing program, Heather has helped many writers sign with agents and go on to sell at market. When not writing, she feeds her cookbook addiction, geeks out on history and pop culture, and looks for excuses to head to the other side of the world. To date, her books have been translated to seventeen languages.
Heather, thanks for this thoughtful and insightful post. A writer’s worldview will always be reflected in the writer’s work. The challenge is to avoid coming across as heavy handed or preachy. The best writers can get their points across without ever overtly stating the broad theme. Take Jane Smiley’s novel, Good Faith. That was clearly an attack on the Reagan Era and financial deregulation, but she did it through an amiable Irish con man who bore no resemblance to President Reagan. The power was in the story and the humiliating downfall of the likeable main character, who was victimized by the antagonist con man. Your post is especially timely in light of recent events. Well done.
At the UnCon, Don reminded us we have the power to change the world with our words and our truths. If we don’t interweave our personal truths into our stories, then we’ve not lived up to that unique potential each of us possesses.
Our stories can change the world. But we must hurry before the good stuff gets banned.
A writer should speak nothing else. All the characters are ultimately the author. They will have their views on what is the case, and the author should render them all accurately. Characters that are not the author, just some cobbled together lists of parts and attributes that are used to make the plot move, probably lack both truth and interest.
To address your first question, though, yes, there is a truth, but we don’t know what it is. (I was attacked by my first fantasy novel while I was Graduate Student in philosophy, can you tell?) What we can know is not the truth, but a representation of the truth from our limited perspectives, and we each have our own. Facts, knowledge, and communication are therefore very indeterminate things, stories with a high degree of correspondence, coherence, and contiguity, rather than the firm constants they are often taken to be.
Thanks for a post that I can apply to my own writing.
I’ve read that you need to write three books before you develop a distinctive author’s voice. Any prolific authors out there ready to vouch for that? Perhaps it’s simply a question of putting more words on the page.
That and getting inside our MC’s skin, as you did with Josephine. Digging deeper for your character’s real needs and fears, their internal and external goals. (See, I learned something from Lisa Cron’s sessions at Un-Con!)
Thanks for showing us how to weave out own beliefs into how we portray our characters. Because character IS story!
It’s interesting that certain dystopian classics are now hitting bestseller lists again, while quotes from the works are showing up on social media feeds.
Writing cannot only reflect the fallacies of society, it can open readers’ minds so that they are armed against future digressions, because of what they’ve experienced already, by their readings.
Great post, Heather! The Immortal Bard was write on… The pen is mightier than the sword.
Thank you for this nuanced and timely post, Heather. It’s so true (!): Subjective truth can vary substantially from person to person, as their personal experiences provide the lens through which they see and make sense of the world. (Then, of course, there’s “truth” that’s verifiably false but nonetheless portrayed as truth for selfish reasons.)
One of the many things I find so interesting about creating characters in fiction is this: My own worldview will necessarily color my writing, but I’m free to explore alternative world views through the lens of each individual character. I find that arguing the “other side” brings more clarity to my own thinking.
It’s the only way to write. I enjoy moral and ethical dilemmas and so to understand a specific issue, I have to do it through story. One thing is true … goodness and beauty always point to Truth. I’m discovering that there are absolutes.
I think the stories that read true are deeply imbedded with truth. The funniest comedies work because they hit close to home on the contradictions and absurdities one must deal with in everyday life. Likewise, the tragedies that cut deepest are the ones in which the author, through their characters, capture a genuine sense of loss, or humiliation, or despair.
As you explain, these truths must unfold naturally and fit the story. For that I think writers – even those who are bonafide plotters – must remain open to letting those moments arise in unexpected ways as the tale unfolds, surprising themselves and their readers. Doing so is true to life. My father passed away two years ago, and though I mourned his loss at the time it was only a couple of weeks ago, out of the blue, that I suddenly felt his presence, and the memory provoked an intense grieving unlike any I had felt before. Likewise, in a story, the moments that reveal pain – or joy – can come from unexpected places, teased out in subtle, unexpected scenes.
Without capturing moments of truth in a novel, regardless of genre or theme or mood, I think it is difficult, if not impossible, to leave a lasting impression on a reader.
John, thank you for sharing the presence of your father. I have had similar experiences after the death of my mother, which underlines for me the ties that exist between our creative drive and our human and spiritual connections. We write to examine those connections — almost as if creating a picture–in a sense that is what our words on the page become.
Thanks for this post, Heather. As a writer and as a reader, I need there to be some larger truth embodied in the story. As Mike said, I want to change the world with my words and truths; without that motivation I don’t think I’d be able to get through writing’s mud seasons.
As a reader, the story alone is not enough to interest me if it does not in some way address a larger issue. I don’t need a moral at the end like Aesop’s fables and don’t want to be preached at, but I do want the story to challenge my thinking and to resonate with meaning beyond what happens to this particular protagonist. I believe Marc is correct that it’s the author’s truth that makes characters authentic.
A writer should read, examine and discern their connection with the world and society. Especially now. Then when their characters begin to live on the page, the voice will come and the underlying truths that form that character’s speech will too. It’s not an easy task, but rewarding when accomplished. All aspects of human struggle, whether to continue feeding oneself as your character faced, or missing a train and thus setting an aspect of the plot in motion, can speak to human truths. Thanks for this post, Heather.
Excellent post, very timely. Thank you
Hi, Heather. Lots of food for thought, as well as encouragement. Each of my characters carry aspects of myself, even my “bad guys.” We’re all multifaceted: contradictory, illogical, reasonable, driven, and kind, all depending upon circumstance. Thank you.