When Your Story Hits Too Close to Home
By Guest | May 30, 2019 |
Please welcome Lisa Barr to WU today!
Lisa is the author of the upcoming novel, THE UNBREAKABLES (Harper) releasing on June 4th. The book promises to be, “A delicious, sharp novel about a woman who jets off to France after her perfect marriage collapses, putting the broken pieces of herself back together while rediscovering her own joie de vivre—a lust for life, art, and steamy sex.” Publishers Weekly said of the book:
“This exquisitely wrought novel will appeal to readers who believe in the redemption of new beginnings.”
The story itself creates the jumping-off point for today’s blog post, because it wasn’t entirely made up. How did Lisa turn a real-life event into something fit for the fiction section of the bookstore? Read on! But first, a bit more about Lisa, from her bio:
Lisa’s debut, FUGITIVE COLORS–a suspenseful tale of stolen art, love, lust, deception and revenge on the “eve” of WWII–won the IPPY gold medal for “Best Literary Fiction 2014”, first prize at The Hollywood Film Festival (Opus Magnum Discovery Award), and was named on “HEEB” magazine’s “Top 10” best books list. According to Booklist, FUGITIVE COLORS is “masterfully conceived and crafted … a dazzling debut novel that has it all: passion and jealousy, intrigue and danger”.
Earning her master’s degree from the Medill School of Journalism, Northwestern University, Lisa has served as an editor for The Jerusalem Post, managing editor of Today’s Chicago Woman, managing editor of Moment magazine, and as an editor/reporter for the Chicago Sun-Times.
For more, visit lisabarr.com.
When Your Story Hits Too Close to Home
In 2002, this happened. My first husband, to whom I was married nine years, disappeared. He left me with two little girls, then five and three, with just 67 cents in my bank account. We have not seen nor heard from him since then. Oh, the story …. the twists and turns … along this nightmare, from despair to survival. Once our lives had finally quieted down, I knew I wanted to write about it. But this tale was not just my life, but my girls’ lives … could I write it? Should I? What would be the consequences? So I waited until my daughters were old enough to really understand. “Can I write our story?” I asked them both. “Yes,” they replied. So I spent the next year and a half writing a memoir. Once I finished it, my eldest who was entering high school at the time, said, “I changed my mind, Mommy. Please don’t write that book – it’s so embarrassing.” And so it goes … the memoir was shelved, but not the story, not the impact of what it did to me, did to us. The written story was dead, but the emotions were still very much alive and I used them within other works.
Flash forward to 2017… a close friend’s husband betrayed her in the worst possible way. “Can I write this story?” I asked her, intending to fictionalize it but keep the soul, the emotional intensity. “Yes,” she said generously, but then I saw the fear in her eyes. “I will show it to you,” I promised. “I will work with you. I will protect you.”
And there it is … Protection. So many of us are not just storytellers, but raconteurs of real stories, real people, real incidents that impact us. Having worked as a journalist for 25 years … I always keep this in the back of my mind whether it’s non-fiction or fiction based on something real: Every word I write, every story I tell — the who, what, when, where, why, and how – belongs to someone else. Here are a few Rules of the Road to keep in mind while basing your story on someone else’s personal experience:
Friendships and close relationships should not be sacrificed in the name of Art. My advice is to change the recognizable details of your subject first thing. Age, physical description, and the obvious giveaways. Reshape pertinent details both in the background and plot in order to keep the real subject distant. Do keep the passion, all the feels that makes the story powerful. Most importantly, when I was working on my new novel, The Unbreakables, which was loosely based on someone’s real experience, I checked in and allowed my subject to read the first draft. Her comfortability with various details and suggestions were implemented. Once she gave me the go-ahead, I felt free. As in, guilt-free/worry-free. She trusted me to tell the truth but in a way that kept her out of it.
Do your research. Even if the story is real … it is important that you do your due diligence around it. I have written historical fiction, fiction, and suspense. In my historical thriller Fugitive Colors, the subject was stolen art during the Holocaust. I read dozens of eyewitness reports and books describing personal accounts of those whose paintings were confiscated, and those artists who were forbidden to paint under the Nazi regime. I realized that it was the emotion I needed in order to convey the real story of persecuted artists—not the names of actual individuals. In The Unbreakables, the pivotal first scene utilizes the Ashley Madison scandal which broke in July 2015 and implicated over 32 million cheaters worldwide. There too, everything about the scandal itself was real, which I used to propel a fictional character’s story.
Permission is key. If you discover a story that you have to write, but it belongs to someone else who is no longer alive—get permission. Find a family member or relative, or at least someone close to that person. Give them the respect of letting them know how much this story has impacted you and that you are planning to write a fictional tale loosely based on this experience. If they forbid you to write it – better to know this upfront than deal with heavy duty problems later.
Be prepared for possible backlash. It happens unfortunately. Have your case or “power point” ready, and remember, no surprises. Don’t write the story, get it published, and then deal with the ramifications at the family holiday party. Always remember that family grudges are held a lot longer than an Amazon ranking. However, if your story is about your child/children’s experience – as my shelved memoir was – never turn it into a memoir unless it is approved by all parties involved and that they truly understand what it means to have their experience published. Let me state upfront: I don’t have any sympathy for abusers. And I truly do understand the need to write about deep, heartfelt experiences more than anyone. But be prepared – there is a price to pay with truth-telling.
So before you put pen to paper, do your research, talk to key parties involved, change obvious details if you are turning truth into fiction – and most importantly, always be sensitive: Your words are describing someone’s life. Remember, once you put it Out There, there are no take-backs.
Do real-life events inspire your fiction? How do you distance what you put on the page from those real-life events? What steps do you take to present the innocent, and/or the guilty? Have additional advice to offer? The floor is yours.
Many thanks to today’s guest.
You can read more WU guest posts by visiting this link.
Thanks for the perspective, Lisa.
This line really resonated with me: I realized that it was the emotion I needed in order to convey the real story of persecuted artists—not the names of actual individuals.
Sometimes, I ‘m so determined to fit in the “facts”, I sacrifice the story.
Thanks so much for commenting … really appreciate it xoxo Lisa
Me too! ME too! Thanks for this excellent reminder.
A wonderful post, with a fresh and sensitive perspective on something that’s not often discussed. Indeed, we often mine someone’s life in our “fiction,” and it’s important to do so in just the ways that Lisa describes. I’m reminded of my years as a qualitative researcher, collecting people’s stories of living with mental illness. Checking in, all the time (“Did I get it right?) was important for validity, but it was also a way to honor and respect the people who were brave enough to share their stories. I was humbled, time and again, when people told me that they were able to share such painful material because they hoped that someone else would benefit from hearing their stories.
Thanks, Barbara — “Did I get it right” is a mantra 24/7 in my head xoxo Lisa
Thanks, Barbara — “Did I get it right” is a mantra 24/7 in my head xo Lisa
To ask a related question (which I often get)–what to say if readers suggest a story must be autobiographical or about people you know–and it isn’t.
One way I’ve dealt with this is to publish a disclaimer at the beginning of the book–all characters, events…are fictional.
Thank you, Lisa, for addressing an important topic that I struggle with in my own writing. It is cathartic to be able to write your own story, to get out the feelings and look at them on the page. But you are so on-point with your comment that the story is not ours alone. Our friends and family are on the ride with us. This was brought home to me a few years ago when a story I wrote was selected for publication in Chicken Soup for the Soul. The editor insisted that I get permission from my mother to publish the story. I had thought of the piece as redemptive and uplifting, but my mother was hesitant to have it published because in highlighting our emotional journey I had exposed the difficult times that made that journey necessary. She eventually granted permission and the story was published, but the bigger accomplishment was the conversation we had about the story. We understand each other much better now. If the story had appeared in print before that conversation, I am not sure we would have gotten where we are.
Thanks again!
This is so beautiful!
Thoughtful and thought-provoking post. A valuable reminder for anyone writing fiction or non-fiction.
I can really relate to this. I had a rather twisting, winding childhood of my own (my father left when I was 2, and I saw him twice after). Things got much more complicated from there. Still, although he, my stepfather, and my mother have all died, I can’t bring myself to write a lot about it. There truly is a real shame involved somehow (embarrassing… I can relate to what your daughter said and at some level I wonder how unloveable was I?), and so it’s not about protecting anyone but myself. Many of the feelings and emotions from my childhood still seem untouchable, almost unspeakable. That’s what I try to capture and understand through my writing–why did it happen? How do I feel? And how do people do these things? It isn’t always easy to even think about, let alone write, but reading posts like yours make it seem more possible and help give me the bravery and tools I need. I suppose my only advice would be to be kind to yourself as you write and to stop writing if it makes you feel worse. Living through things once is tough, living through them a second time while writing may be too much.
Thank you for an inspiring post. I look forward to reading your books.
Julia, I’m in a similar boat with some stories too hard to write…how can you still need distance after 40 yrs you wonder, but we are tender-hearted, no?
Lisa, after stealing a substantial amount of money from a well-known national company where he worked as an executive, my sister’s husband drove to the airport and disappeared. He was gone, mostly overseas, for 5 years, during which time my sister divorced him.
Their relationship had seemed fine before that; she had no notice anything untoward was happening. His exodus was some years after she lost her first husband to a bizarre tragic accident. Interestingly, the company did not choose to prosecute him, likely to avoid negative publicity. (All this was many years ago.)
I have thought of fictionalizing at least some portions of these circumstances, but haven’t yet. However, I’d be completely upfront with my sister about borrowing from her misfortunes, and would shape the story to suit any personal concerns.
Thanks for covering good ground on the issues in using real incidents as the basis for stories.
Thank you for the great post and sound advice. It really hit home for me, as I’m writing a memoir about a summer I spent working in Ireland, where I fell madly, insanely, and desperately in love with an adorable, charismatic Irishman. We reconnected 5 years ago by phone and emails, when I googled him and discovered he had become relatively famous in Ireland – and partially in Europe S well – and had later moved to the USA with his American wife and lovely little daughter. Sadly, he and his wife divorced, but he kept in close contact with his daughter, who a beautiful young woman now with a precious little boy.
He died a year ago – it was a shock to everyone. I joined an online invitation, open to anyone who knew and loved him, and posted a short sympathy note to his daughter and her family. Now, I’m wondering, should I contact her and ask her permission to write my memoir? (I’ve been very happily married for 35 years, so reconnecting with this man was in no way meant as a romantic gestur. I just wanted permission to use his real name in my memoir, and he kindly agreed) But so much of my story is about him. There is no criticism about him at all – he was loved by everyone who knew him. But I’m fearful She may feel I’m invading her privacy.
Any thoughts?
I suspect this post is close to many of us. We stay in the background, observing, writing, trying to figure out why people do the things they do, I asked my cousins for their permission to borrow some of their circumstances (one was conceived naturally after her parents had given up hope of ever having a child but was born with many congenital abnormalities, the other adopted and was severely burned as a child). I used these starting points to craft a story about something a character much like the adopted child was asking, are you your brother’s keeper? I had to write a book to answer it. lol. But so pleased with it. My working title was Damaged but I changed it to Bound because although the world sees only damaged people, it is ultimately a love story about the strong bonds of love between sisters. I’ve borrowed so many emotions from my own life and that of my siblings and cousins.
I agree that relationships are the most important, to not sacrifice them for a story. Thank you for this lovely and important essay. And congratulations on the publication of The Unbreakables.
Hello Lisa. Congratulations on being so bold as to take a stand regarding the ethical/moral implications of writing that can hurt others. The conventional wisdom among too many writers is to grant themselves a pass on such questions. Their “art” must necessarily transcend other considerations. But in most cases, choosing to hurt or risk hurting others is nothing more than opportunism. The writer has smelled the potential for success, and claims for herself/himself the equivalent of diplomatic immunity.
Thank you for your tips, Lisa.
I do write about true events and I found that doing so has helped me work the trama. For example, I wrote about my mom deaths. However, I focused the story on my parents and me. As both of my parents are dead, I felt free to do so.
Lots of food for thought in your post, thank you! I have been carrying a family story around with me for some years now. I have even started writing it down, but stopped about half way through. Too complicated, too real. I am not sure if I will ever finish it the way it is now – maybe only to show it to my boys, so that they will know about family members they have never met.
But maybe I will one day turn it into something else, use parts of it, who knows. I learned a lot about myself while writing the first bits, so it was definitely not useless work.
I wrote my memoir years ago and was startled to discover so many things about the situations and people, including myself, that I had never realized.
Excellent post, Lisa! This issue of other people’s privacy is one that is close to my heart and one that I would love to see more widely discussed among writers.
When I set out to write my memoir, 25 years after the events, I first asked my grown children’s permission, since I would be writing about their childhood. When the ms was accepted by a publisher, I gave them a second chance to weigh in on individual scenes about them. Both times they gave me a green light.
I also contacted as many of the people involved as I could find. I interviewed them about what they remembered of various incidents, and asked permission to use their names, offering to disguise their identities. All but one agreed. I also disguised the identities of those I couldn’t find, but felt free to use names for those who had died.
I felt (and feel) strongly the responsibility to treat other people’s stories with respect. By this I mean not only being as accurate as possible, but also presenting people in full: taking care to understand why even those who behaved badly (IMHO) thought they were doing the right thing, and including that perspective in the story.
Hi Lisa –
Such a great post! Thank you.
I am in the revision stage of writing my first novel, which is based on my parent’s story and its effect on me. It started 13 years ago as a memoir, and then I spoke to my father about it, and he asked if it might be better if I fictionalized it. Once I did, the floodgates opened! I now love the story as it has become its own being. Yes, it is based on the truth, and all of the emotion is there, but it also is fiction. My mother has, sadly, passed away, so I needed only my father, brother and husband’s permission, and they have all thankfully granted it.
Can’t wait to read your book!! Congrats.
I have written a book about my experiences as a landlord. They are true stories. I have not named names but I have stated the town in which I live. Some tenants, police officers and judges do not shine with a good light. My daughter says I should not publish it due to the possible repercussions. I wonder if I should go ahead an publish. I have removed most of my personal opinions about these people and have only documented the stories, some of which are very funny, seen from a distance. any comments?