When Getting It Wrong Makes It Better
By Keith Cronin | November 17, 2023 |
In the late ‘70s, when I was a freshman at Indiana University in Bloomington, Indiana, a film crew descended upon our quirky little town to shoot a movie. At the time I believe it was called “Bambino,” but that would change. The movie focused on an annual bicycle race the university hosted, called the Little 500 (a reference to the famed Indianapolis 500, the big annual auto race held 50 miles to the north). The Little 500 was the event of the year for students and townspeople alike, and to this day it draws crowds of 25,000 whenever April rolls around.
When you live in smalltown central Indiana, it’s not every day that Hollywood comes calling, and both the city and the university greeted the film project with open arms. It was the talk of the town, and soon we began seeing sections of the campus and surrounding area cordoned off while a cafeteria, courtyard or local street was commandeered to film some scene.
What was the movie about? Nobody really knew, other than that the climactic moment would be a reenactment of our big bicycle race. And – most thrilling of all – there was an open call to attend said reenactment as an extra, since they needed the stadium in which the race was held to be full of people. As a bonus, they also needed a ton of competitive bike riders, and since my dormitory floor had a team that had qualified to compete in the real race, the guys on that team were hired to ride in the reenactment, while the rest of their loyal floormates fake-cheered them on from the stands, hoping to be captured forever on film.
Suffice to say, we were stoked.
It didn’t take long for some of the novelty to wear off. The film crew seemed to be everywhere, and they showed no signs of ever being done. It became tiresome to have to walk around to a rear entrance of an academic hall, because the front of the building was being used for some scene they were shooting.
Even more troubling, we began to notice what they were getting WRONG. We heard talk that the movie would highlight rivalries between students and “cutters” – a derogatory name the filmmakers were using for the local townspeople, harkening back to a bygone era when Bloomington was home to a large workforce of limestone cutters. The problem was, the limestone quarries had been closed for years, there was little or no actual rivalry, and nobody called them “cutters.” “Townies,” maybe. A few called them “stonies” (for “stone cutters”). But what was all this “cutters” nonsense? No, this did NOT bode well.
And then there were the race scenes. Despite the initial surge of interest, it quickly became evident that there was no way to actually fill the stadium where the race was being filmed day after day, because nowhere near enough people were showing up. So the film crew would direct us (yes, yours truly was in some of the crowd scenes) to all shuffle back and forth to different parts of the stadium and sit together in crowded clumps of people. After one shot was completed, we would be ushered to some other section of the stands, and we began to understand that they would somehow stitch together the footage to make the stadium appear full, when in reality you were likely seeing the same much smaller group of people over and over again, sitting in whatever section of the stadium the camera was capturing at a given moment. Although this was long before the advent of CGI, even then we were skeptical of such a low-tech approach. (You’d be surprised how quickly a bunch of 19-year-old Midwestern punks become experts in critiquing filmmaking techniques.)
The movie didn’t come out until the following year, by which time it had been renamed “Breaking Away.” Back in Bloomington, we all flocked to the movie theater to see it, hoping to catch a glimpse of ourselves in the bike-racing scenes.
I may or may not be in this photo. Probably not.
I don’t think any of us were prepared for the finished result. A film that we had assumed would be about our famous bike race was instead more of a buddy movie with a side order of romance, tacking on a trumped-up rivalry between students and townspeople that in no way represented the real dynamic of the artsy little town we all knew and loved. The verdict was swift and unanimous:
Clearly, this movie sucked.
So imagine our surprise – and righteous indignation – when the film became a hit, earning not one but four Academy Award nominations, and actually winning for best screenplay!
How could this be? The lead actor had skinny legs, and everybody knew that the best competitive cyclists had legs like sequoias. And during the “cute meet” when the male and female romantic leads first crossed paths, the girl rode away on a motor scooter (which nobody rode on that campus), and – wait for it – drove the wrong way up what any self-respecting Bloomingtonian knew was a one-way street! And in what had to be the worst blow of all, during the race scenes, the cameras swept past the crowds far too fast for any of us to recognize ourselves.
This was an outrage. How could Hollywood have gotten our world so wrong?
It wasn’t until many years later, when I began harboring serious thoughts about becoming a storyteller, that I realized that with little or no exception, nearly everything that movie got wrong actually made it a better story. More on that in a moment, but examining the success of Breaking Away made me start to realize that getting the facts right is not always the goal in fiction. Getting the story right is.
A hard lesson from a bitter pill
Still, that can be a bitter pill to swallow. I think most of us get bugged when a book or movie gets something wrong – particularly when it’s something about which we have highly specialized knowledge or experience. In my case, as a professional musician, I can tell you that music is something that they almost NEVER get right in books or movies. This can happen whether the music is the focal point, or merely a side detail.
Because I’m a drummer, people always ask me what I thought of the movie Whiplash, and I have to carefully temper my response in order not to go full Ebenezer Scrooge on them. I mean, sure: the film might have provided a platform for some powerful drama – and okay, some damn good acting – but it was utter nonsense in terms of realism, basically amounting to nothing more than a thinly disguised sports movie where a ball was swapped out for some drumsticks. Two thumbs down from The Keithster.
Pedant that I am, I was also annoyed when Audrey Niffenegger’s novel The Time Traveler’s Wife (a book I admittedly have multiple problems with) jarred me with this exchange between the titular character and her temporally untethered future spouse, describing her parents:
“Well, my family isn’t posh; they’re musicians. My father is Richard DeTamble and my mother was Annette Lyn Robinson.”
“Oh – the singer!”
“Right. And he’s a violinist. He plays for the Chicago Symphony Orchestra. But he never really made it the way she did. It’s a shame because my father is a marvelous violin player.”
It’s a shame?!? The Chicago Symphony Orchestra (CSO for short) is considered by many to be the greatest orchestra in existence, and it’s in any serious classical music aficionado’s top ten. And when you get a job like that, it’s kinda like the Supreme Court – you’ve basically got it for life, or at least until you can no longer play your instrument. This means turnover is low, competition is INSANELY high, and landing a spot in the CSO is about as easy as making the starting lineup for the New York Yankees. In other words, not only have you “made it” – you are literally recognized as one of the best in the WORLD. Sorry for the rant, but that really bugged me (gee, could you tell?).
BUT…
Did that stop TTTW (which is what Keith assumes all the cool kids call The Time Traveler’s Wife) from becoming a massive bestselling book, and later a hit movie? Nope and nope.
And did that dialog snippet succeed in succinctly introducing a couple where one member’s fame far exceeded that of the other? Basically capturing a whole “A Star Is Born” scenario with just a few lines of dialog? Okay, yeah – I’ll give you that.
I think the key in all these examples is that whatever might not have been accurate or true was at least believable. And, far more importantly, those inaccurate details helped make the story more compelling. To wit:
- The cute meet in Breaking Away is actually a solid scene, and to have a bicycle-riding geek watch the girl of his dreams speed away on a motorized cycle was a clever way to reinforce that she was out of his reach, not to mention out of his league. As far as how many people noticed the wrong-way departure, a rather embarrassing amount of Googling suggests that I may be the lone dissenting voice on the issue. (And yes, even I realize that this is never a good place to be when Googling. Let it go, Keith. Let it go.)
- The rivalry between students and “cutters” amped up the conflict – and okay, it also served to convey the fact that outside of the massive and imposing university campus, Bloomington was predominantly a blue-collar town with a painfully low average income (the 2000 census, taken more than 20 years after Breaking Away was filmed, reported the median income for a household in the city was $25,377).
- While the protagonist’s legs were inarguably too skinny for an Olympic-level cyclist, his endearing and not-at-all-macho quirkiness made him a far more compelling male lead than some typical lantern-jawed Hollywood musclebro (which might or might not be a word).
Well played, Hollywood. Well played.
Just don’t look down at his legs…
Breaking the rules like Breaking Away
I’ve tried to take a lesson from Breaking Away, and will admit to having learned to play a little faster and looser with the realism of my own storytelling details – when it serves the story. But I still do extensive research, to ensure that whatever made-up details I may insert are still plausible.
In my debut novel, the main two characters are both stroke victims. I’ll admit to having done some picking and choosing in terms of what mental and physical challenges they faced, but I did extensive research on strokes, and while I can’t say I found anybody with exactly the same specific set of symptoms, each one of their problems or challenges came from documented issues that somebody had experienced as a result of a stroke.
Still, I was aware that I was making stuff up, so I was more than a little relieved when the feedback and reviews I got from actual stroke victims were all pretty positive. The one area where I rubbed some people wrong was in how I portrayed my protagonist’s speech therapists. I made them the butt of a comedic riff, and a couple of speech therapists posted reviews that called me out on that, although one admitted that they still liked the book overall.
I did similar research when working on my second novel, about a mafia goon who becomes a famous TV weatherman. I wrote to all of the top TV meteorologists in Florida, and to my amazement, they ALL wrote me back, each answering a short set of questions with surprising candor and detail. A pair of my questions focused on any potential rivalry/jealousy that might exist between the on-air meteorologists and the behind-the-scenes producers who helped provide their weather data and graphics. I was hoping to create some conflict between my not-ready-for-primetime protagonist and the well-known TV meteorologists he was supporting early in his career. To my delight, it turned out that such rifts were not uncommon.
Taking that as my artistic license, I wrote a sequence where my guy was incensed when the main meteorologist took a night off, and instead of giving my guy a chance to be on camera, the station assigned that night’s forecast to a pretty-but-untrained newscaster. In my fictional world, professional meteorologists scornfully referred to such untrained people as “weather balloons.” It made for some nice tension, and I was pleased with the overall result.
But here’s the thing: In actual TV news, nobody calls them “weather balloons.” Hell, nobody calls them anything. Sure, they exist, but I made a far bigger thing of them, and of how frustrating it was for a behind-the-scenes technician to see a mere “weather balloon” getting all the onscreen glory. And I’ll admit, I stole that approach directly from the “cutters” introduced in Breaking Away.
Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies
To be clear, I’m not saying you should go out of your way to get things wrong. But what I am saying is that sometimes it’s okay to take some liberties, if doing so will make your story more impactful or compelling. This can seem counterintuitive, particularly if like me, you are the sort of person who tends to take things VERY literally.
But the thing is, we even see this technique used frequently in NON-fiction. In many memoirs, “true crime” stories and other narrative nonfiction – and almost always in movies that purport to be biographical or nonfiction – we see writers and directors move details around, condensing, rearranging and/or flat-out embroidering them in the name of telling their story more effectively. From In Cold Blood to Being the Ricardos, from American Sniper to Oppenheimer, writers and directors often take liberties with reality, editing and reorganizing it as needed, while (hopefully) still remaining faithful to the greater truth of the story.
As fiction writers, we have even more leeway. I mean, why can’t I make up a detail about TV meteorology, if other authors can have their characters fly, see the future, turn into cockroaches, or age backwards? After all, one could argue that writing fiction basically amounts to the title of Edgar Award-winning novelist Lawrence Block’s writing how-to: Telling Lies for Fun & Profit.
Believe me, I’m not advocating sloppy writing. I’m the same guy who lectures writers about putting in the effort to make sure that even their texts and social media posts are well-written. But I am advocating taking the freedom you have as a writer to tell the best story you can, in the most effective way you can. Hey, if it worked for the late Stojan Steve Tesich (the Serbian immigrant who wrote the “Bambino” screenplay that ultimately became Breaking Away, and who would go on to write the screenplay for The World According to Garp), it could work for you!
How about you?
Have you ever included highly specific details that were perhaps somewhat less than true, in the interest of enhancing your story? Or, okay, maybe a whole LOT less than true? On the flipside, as a reader, does it take you out of the story when you encounter a detail that you know to be wrong, or at the very least, exaggerated? Please chime in – and feel free to tell me a lie, if it makes for a better story!
Author of the novels Me Again (originally published by Five Star/Gale), and Tony Partly Cloudy (published under his pen name Nick Rollins), Keith Cronin (he/him) is a corporate speechwriter and professional rock drummer who has performed and recorded with artists including Bruce Springsteen, Clarence Clemons, and Pat Travers. Keith’s fiction has appeared in Carve Magazine, Amarillo Bay, The Scruffy Dog Review, Zinos, and a University of Phoenix management course. A native of South Florida, Keith spends his free time serenading local ducks and alligators with his ukulele.
Love this post. My first historical fiction YA is coming out in June 2025. I took GREAT care to use real facts. But this is an interesting slant–make sure the story is first. Thanks for the post.
What about getting historical facts wrong, especially when not in service of the story? I remember a novel in which the characters visited an indoor shopping mall and purchased panty hose in 1950, years before indoor malls or panty hose existed. I don’t think that was in service of story and the story would have worked just fine if the characters had purchased stockings at a department store. I read a novel taking place in 1959 and one of the main characters was driving a Ford Mustang which would not be manufactured until 1964. Along the same lines I described a five speed manual transmission in a classic Mustang and an early reader pointed out that classic Mustangs had four speed transmissions. Another time, I vividly described a sweating brown bottle of Colt 45 beer only to have it pointed out to me that Colt 45 comes in clear bottles. Again, I don’t think making those things accurate does any disservice to the story and the inaccuracies serve to annoy readers who are aware that the facts aren’t right.
Hi Keith – nice name, by the way! I’m with you on that stuff: To me, those are simply examples of sloppy writing, and they bug me, too. I remember reading a thriller where a bad guy drove away in a “Ford Caprice.” I’m totally NOT a car guy, but even *I* know that Chevy made the Caprice, not Ford – so that really yanked me out of the story.
So no, I’m not defending that kind of thing, because as you observed, those details did NOT serve or enhance the story. They just exposed an author’s lack of research!
I was seriously put off The Unlikely Pilgrimage of Harold Fry by multiple inaccuracies.
Some of those were around the scene where Harold and his wife go to Cambridge to see their son’s graduation. The description of Darlington was not great either.
Many books make huge mistakes about life as students in Oxford and Cambridge – I once read a book about a young maths prodigy who goes to Oxford, which was full of mistakes, about Oxford, about maths and about gifted children.
Another subject that movies get very wrong is about people waking up in hospital intensive care after a serious illness/injury.
And before you ask, yes I was a student at Cambridge, and yes, I have woken up in intensive care. The latter I would not recommend to anyone, not even for research. And this is not a lie.
Thanks for weighing in, Hilary! The examples you gave point out how the importance and impact of certain places and experiences can color how viscerally we react to storytellers getting them wrong. Until I survived a heart attack several years ago, I never realized just how many books, shows and movies have what has started to seem like “the obligatory heart attack scene,” often heavily telegraphed in advance. And I’m sorry to hear that you also know how unpleasant a place the ICU can be. I would definitely not give it a positive Yelp review!
Yep, definitely 1* on Trip Advisor
Hi, Keith. Thanks for this post and, for the record, I really enjoyed “Me Again.” In my last novel, the main character is seven months pregnant and finds herself on the streets of Boston during a brutal nor’easter. I had her climb the steps of a Catholic church and find refuge there. Then, someone told me that churches lock their doors at night (who knew?). So, to write around it, I had the priest who finds her tell her that he usually locks the church, but kept it unlocked so people who were out on the streets during the blizzard could get warm. Implausible? Maybe. But, it worked for the story. Hope you are well. We missed you at the WU Conference in Salem.
I appreciate the kind words, Chris. And believe me, I hated not being able to be at the UnCon last week!
Your workaround sounds perfect, and is exactly the kind of thing I’m posting about today. Well done!
Not at all implausible, Chris. Pope Francis himself does the same during heat waves and below-freezing nights in Rome.
Really enjoyed this post—it was entertaining and informative. I do come across inaccuracies, but I tend to release them from memory after sharing a laugh with my family. They bother me more when people are shown with less depth than they really have.
Thank you, Susan – and I think I know what you mean about the missing depth. Sometimes characters can seem more like props than people – which is almost always a missed opportunity.
Great post. I think one key is the author knowing the facts, even when choosing fiction. Doing, as you’ve done, the research to know the reality they’re writing about and then surgically altering it for a better story. It’s the old adage about knowing the rules before you break them (or know what rules you are breaking and ensuring it’s for a good reason).
Greta, I definitely agree. If I’m going to bend the truth to my will, I want to at least do the work to make sure it’s plausible.
Keith –
Fascinating to hear that your hometown was the set for “breaking away“. When the movie was released in 1979 I was I was slightly older than the four “struggling to come of age” guys that the story is centered around. I knew very little about the movie when we (date night) entered the theater. It blew me away and remains one of my all-time best movie viewing experiences.
The characters/actors/story captured brilliantly the hopes, dreams, and joy of this group of friends while also revealing the pain, disillusionment, and disappointments that were part of their (and my) journey. Best of all was that while the story had dark elements, it was upbeat and outrageously funny throughout.
Loved this post and flashing back to the movie and attendant memories…made me smile.
Thanks, Keith. 😊👍🏼
Tom, it’s great to hear what a positive – and memorable – experience you had with this movie, approaching it from such a different perspective than me and my fellow Bloomingtonians.
Now you’ve got me in the mood to re-watch it!
I have not re-watched ever. Am considering. Unsure if could be as engaging, fun, and relatable as in 1979.
I was, in some ways, so much like each of the group of friends making their way in those times.
By the way Daniel Stern (?) debuted in “BA”as the poignant and hilarious ‘Cyril’. One of several great comedic elements.
Thanks again. I had not known of the academy award nominations or win.
Keith, I always enjoy your posts. As a nonfiction writer, sticking to the facts and going down rabbit holes is what I do best. But it gets in the way of good storytelling. With every new story I have to teach myself to let go of whatever little fact I’m attached to, and go into the realm of possibilities. It is freeing once I get to that stage. But yes, I need to study as much as I can. One reviewer of BOUND said that the details of burn aftercare was so detailed she wondered whether I’d gone through something horrific like that myself. Thank you for reminding me again that story comes first, esp. since I’m pondering possibilities for a new book.
Thanks, Vijaya. It’s got to be SO hard for a nonfiction writer to figure out how to get the best story out of the truth they are exploring. I learn a lot from nonfiction or “based on a true story” movies in that respect, when the directors are forced to take a story that may stretch on for years, and fit it into a two-hour film.
Hey Keith! As always, it is a pleasure to read your posts. I did a lot of research for the medical scenes in Darling Girl, and believe it or not, only had to slightly stretch the truth. (Did you read the story in Time about the guy who injected himself with his son’s blood in an attempt to stay young? Sometimes truth is as weird as fiction.) You were missed at the conference, and I may or may not have credited you with giving good advice in the segment on bad reviews …
Liz, your research shows how conscientious you are. Both of my books were about topics about which I was NOT an expert: strokes or weather. But the rabbit holes I went down during my research yielded tons of story ideas, so I considered it time well spent, in addition to the key benefit of making my stories more believable.
Wish I could have been there to hear you maybe-name-drop me at UnCon! 😊
Hey Keith — Wonderful essay, as usual. I was recently interviewed by a fellow fantasy writer who asked me why I didn’t opt to identify my debut series as historical fiction, or even alternative historical fiction. You’re describing why in this fine post. By identifying it as fantasy I provide myself with a lot of freedom.
A gigantic example lies in a mountain range, separating my Gothic characters’ homeland from a coastal province of the Roman Empire. The physical barrier creates what essentially becomes the dividing element in a portal, which is vital to the story. In reality, the region is damn near flat. Fantasy!
Thanks for always making your lessons so entertaining!
Thanks, Vaughn. Smart move, keeping the Fantasy card ready to play when needed. And it sounds like you’re making good use of the artistic freedom it provides!
Being from Illinois, we loved BREAKING AWAY. A film about a bicycle race was new and different and there is something that tugs at you when film-makers are in your state or close by. (So many similarities…damn it’s the Midwest!) I skimmed Time Traveler’s Wife. Loved the film..bad me. But as Liz writes (and I loved Darling Girl) research is necessary for most readers. And reviewers are always looking for a fault. Always. I guess in the end, the overall feelings of reader or watcher determine whether they are eager to say, wow, Great film or You really need to read this book.
Hi Beth – you’re right: The film does do a good job of capturing the Midwest of that era. I need to give it credit for that, as well. I also felt that it captured how trapped people can feel by circumstances and/or environment, and how it feels like the only way to survive is to somehow escape, by any means possible. I remember wanting to leave skidmarks out of my Illinois hometown, but these days, I sorely miss it, as well as my adopted college hometown of Bloomington, which still calls to me.
Awesome post, Keith. I especially loved: “To be clear, I’m not saying you should go out of your way to get things wrong. But what I am saying is that sometimes it’s okay to take some liberties, if doing so will make your story more impactful or compelling.” Yes!
It made me think of book signings for A Keeper’s Truth and how I used to sign the title page: I am a writer. I collect facts, then distort them as I please. Enjoy the madness, my friend.
So true!
Hugs,
Dee
Thanks, Dee – hugs accepted! And I LOVE this:
“I collect facts, then distort them as I please.”
Amen to that!
As someone who’s lived in Bloomington for 30 years, I am totally sharing this awesome post with my Indiana chapter of the Society of Children’s Book Writers and Illustrators authors!
Also, my family and I complain about inaccuracies in movies and books, too…mostly about the science though, since that’s our area of expertise. But thanks to you, I now have a more productive outlook on these factual errors. :D
Teresa, I’m SO jealous of you getting to live there! I loved that town, and my college experience (most of it, anyway).
If by any chance you’ve got WAY too much time on your hands, you might enjoy this VERY deep dive into the locations used in filming Breaking Away, many of which will likely be familiar!
Hah! What an awesome video, Keith! I’ll have to watch that with the family…in addition to telling them the tidbits you shared about the movie. :)
I hope you get back here to visit every so often to re-live the better college days! Campus has changed a lot though…even when compared to 1992 when we arrived.
Oh yeah. I make up whole imaginary towns/counties in Northeastern Oregon for my Martiniere Legacy science fiction western corporate soap opera series. Much the same for NE Oregon and on Mt. Hood for the Netwalk Sequence cybertech science fiction series.
There are *some* things that can be fudged in your storytelling, but there are two big no-nos for getting your facts wrong: horses and weapons.
Horses, because even in fantasy, unless you make the horses something completely different, they’re gonna be the same as real-life horses. There are some books featuring horses that non-horse people love while those of us who are knowledgeable about horses groan and roll our eyes. And you do *not* want me in the room if you’re watching something on the screen featuring horses. Most of it is absolutely wrong.
Weapons, because whether you’re talking swords or firearms, there are a LOT of knowledgeable people out there who will be thrown out of your work if you get certain details wrong.
Weapons people and horse people will be quite vocal about mistakes, especially since it’s pretty darn easy to find an expert in either area to walk you through the details. That said, I had my son (who works in tech) recently eyeball a computer scene. Thankfully I got most of the details correct, and just had to correct two things.
When reading, I’m willing to overlook some things that might be wrong for the setting or the time, but only if the characters have already won me over and the plot is compelling.
I’m with you – I’m *much* more inclined to forgive any obvious factual flubs if the story or characters are winning me over!
I once moderated a panel at a convention about research for fiction. Mostly it was to inform about where details of towns and other locations can be found: archives, libraries, etc. One person argued that it wasn’t necessary saying, “It’s fiction.” I’ve heard too many stories of people who stopped reading because of a factual error. I’ve done the same. I also read a novel in which the author (Dan Brown) stated he’d done this for the sake of the story. Oddly, I found knowing that ahead of time helped me to accept it. And, yes, I’ve played a bit with facts to further the story. But not too much. When it’s possible, I always check the facts.
Cary, that’s a great point, about being more willing to accept the premise of a story knowing that the author has clearly done some legwork. Like you, I try to check the facts – I often do this during my initial brainstorming, when I “stress test” my premise for any glaring factual or logical flaws.
Keith–thanks for taking up a moral/ethical concern that any writer with a conscience needs to contend with. I fondly remember Breaking Away. I also can appreciate how a towny would react to artistic license being applied to the facts of Bloomington. In my experience, those who carp about what they see as errors of fact are of two kinds. Complaints are justified when made about factual deviations that twist historical truth to fit some political bias. The “truth” is being altered, not for story but for ideological reasons. Or the mistakes are so bone-headed as to be unforgivable. Other criticisms (IMO) stem from vanity. It pleases some critics to assume they “know” something the writer doesn’t. They enjoy the sense of superiority that always comes with a strong dose of, to use your term, righteous indignation.
Again, thanks of shining a light. If we aren’t corrupting history on purpose, or being slovenly in matters of fact, we ought to be given a long leash.
Barry, thanks for your always thoughtful insights. You raise an EXCELLENT point about the danger of facts “being altered, not for story but for ideological reasons.” That kind of thing can quickly devolve into preaching and propaganda, and is almost always a turnoff to me – even when I *agree* with the political or philosophical direction it’s taking. That’s just not what I’m looking for as a reader or viewer.
Here’s to exploring our stories on a suitably long leash!
This is such a great reminder and approach, Keith–I’ve seen authors get wrapped around the axle of factuality at the expense of story, especially those who do extensive research and want to make sure they present it as granularly and infallibly as possible. That often results in dull info dumps that can make a story read like a textbook. There’s a reason it’s fiction, and the format gives authors license to play a little bit of God with the facts.
I even see a version of this, as you say, in narrative nonfiction though, including memoir, where authors may get so doggedly devoted to showing the facts exactly as they happened that it muddies or bogs down the story and stalls momentum. While I do think it’s important not to veer egregiously from the truth, there’s narrative value to be had in a little tweaking and massaging here and there in how it’s presented.
But don’t even get me started about how the publishing industry is portrayed in shows like Being Erica. I will flat out scream at the TV (while admittedly enjoying the damn thing). :)
Thanks for chiming in, Tiffany. I’ve seen (and okay, had to personally combat) the dreaded InfoDump Syndrome, where you feel like you need to show the world just how great a job you did at researching your story. A little bit goes a long way, as you’re well aware.
I find that often the real value of the research is in the cumulative increase in *confidence* that the author displays in spinning their story, whether or not they delve into great detail. There’s just an additional gravitas and plausibility that comes with having done the work to know your subject a bit more deeply than the average Joe.
Ooh, books/shows/movies about publishing can get SO “inside baseball” and self-referential. That’s a bit of a pet peeve for me, yet I also understand the attraction, both as a writer and as a reader/viewer!
Sorry I missed you at UnCon. As a huge fan of yours, I wanted to be in the front row, prompting the audience to do The Wave. Unless, of course, you are the type who might find that kind of thing distracting…
Thank you so much for this.
I’ve adopted as mantras that: All stories that connect with the reader are true, and Never let a fact get in the way of a good story. They don’t go down well with a lot of people.
I’m also immediately suspicious of anything labeled “Based on a true story.” I’m afraid the ‘true,’ will get in the way of the ‘good’.
Thanks, Bob. I really like this:
“Never let a fact get in the way of a good story.”
Well, at least I like that from a writer or film director. Not so much from a politician or a newscaster!
“Never let a fact get in the way of a good story.” I too was going to add this quote, which comes up not only in my writing world but also around the dinner table!
You’re starting to collect too many comments, maybe, but I must 1) congratulate you for having an example from your own life to illustrate this useful post, and 2) point out another pitfall for the unwary. My first book was set in a time and place that I had occupied—although I no longer lived there—so I wrote with absolute confidence about things my MC had seen and thought about.
It took a first-reader who had lived in the same time and place to point out that my MC, many years younger than I (ahem), was describing things that had happened before his birth, and in some cases no longer existed. Oops.
I appreciate the kind words, Michael – thank you.
But ooh – you’ve hit on a pain point I share: being old enough that some of my experiences, observations and insights have already passed their expiration dates!
As I teen, I was a competitive sailboat racer. I didn’t win the national championship in the class of boat that I sailed, but I was in the race. (Placed 20th.) Point is, I know a lot about sailing…which clearly many writers do not! How many historical novels have been included scene on sailing ships that sail straight into the wind? That is a physical impossibility. Really spoils it.
So yeah, I’m that spoiler reader who knows too much, just like you did about Bloomington and cycling, and later about drumming. (I also once was a drummer, jazz, not a pro like you but good enough to know when films are faking it.) Writers should do their research. I do, but as you’re pointing out today accuracy is not the goal. A good story is.
So, bravo! Good point and good post. BTW, my sister was an Olympic bicycle racer and raced professionally for several years. “Breaking Away” is one of her favorite movies, not for the racing but for the fun the film had with the characters, especially the main character, Dave, who pretends to be Italian. Just sayin’.
Benjamin – it’s funny: I haven’t watched Breaking Away in MANY years, but these comments are really making me want to revisit it.
I’m also fascinated that both you and your sister were racers. Was your family all about competition? Or were you and your sister just all about speed? Inquiring minds want to know! And I can honestly say you’re the first jazz drummer I’ve encountered who also raced sailboats. That’s my kind of Renaissance Man!
Ben, the sailing scenes in most books make me cringe too… good to know the pain is shared!
Very timely post, Keith. these days, the blurring of fact and fiction is being used to intentionally muddy the waters and outright lie. This quote from Ann Patchett is so spot-on, I had to write it down: “Most of the things in this book didn’t actually happen, but the feelings are very close to home. Or, as my mother said, ‘None of it happened, and all of it is true.'”
Christine, although I’m a Patchett fan, I think your mother put it even better!
Actually, that’s part of the quote. Patchett was referring to *her* mom. (Although my mom is darn clever too, especially for a 95-year-old.)
D’oh – I didn’t fully parse the multiple levels of quotation marks.
Brilliant stuff, no matter *whose* mom said it! :)
Great post, Keith. I enjoyed reading all your rants about Breaking Away. I know IU well and the Little 500 so it was a fun read. I’m sharing it with my son, an IU student in the ‘90s.
As to the writing aspects in your article, of course I’ve tweaked some facts for the sake of story. And that’s after tons of research so I know what I’m doing and why.
Early in my writing career, a guy in my critique group said the ending I was planning for my novel was dull, that readers needed more. Since the novel was influenced by a true story, I was using what truly happened and told him so. His words stay with me always- and still make me laugh- “Don’t dick-up a good story with the truth.”
Linda, I didn’t know we also had an IU connection – small world!
Your friend’s words are both hilarious and accurate. Something being true doesn’t guarantee it’s a good story. That can be a hard lesson to digest!
What bothers some readers will be irrelevant to others. What is wrong to some readers is hilarious to others. The village of 500 where I live part time was a movie location and our enjoyment was heightened when the characters turned right at the bridge to go north up the mountain when *of course* everyone knows a right turn goes south to the lake. That’s 500 people who know a scene is wrong, and it added (unintended) amusement to the story.
Deborah, that’s a great way to look at it: drawing amusement from inside knowledge of how farcical a scene is.
Incidentally, I happened to witness the “cute meet” scene in Breaking Away while it was being shot. The premise is: the cute girl gets on her scooter, and as she starts to leave, her books fall off the back of the scooter, to be chivalrously retrieved by the bike-riding male lead.
To make sure the books fell, there was some device attached to them, knocking them to the ground on cue.
On the first take of the scene, she got on her scooter, started to putter away, the books fell off…
…and before the bike-riding actor arrived, a random student walking by who was NOT an extra picked up the books and tried to hand them back to her. He was just walking by, apparently oblivious to the fact that a film crew was shooting a scene.
The actress recoiled in horror from the guy innocently offering her books back, and the poor guy was dumbfounded at why she was refusing his help. Then the film crew rushed the guy, eager to retrieve the prop books from him. Probably scarred the poor guy for life, but it made for a hilarious memory. I just wish movies back in that era had blooper reels at the end!
Keith, I’ve always liked how Adventures of Huckleberry Finn begins:
“You don’t know about me without you have read a book by the name of The Adventures of Tom Sawyer; but that ain’t no matter. That book was made by Mr. Mark Twain, and he told the truth, mainly. There was things which he stretched, but mainly he told the truth.”
It can be fun to stretch things, but a ’59 Mustang? (I had a ’68, so I chafed.) I described a lot of improbable thefts in a memoir of mine, but I was the thief, so they were the truth, mainly. I did get to jump on and off a car while fleeing in San Francisco as an extra in the tsunami scene in “The Abyss,” but that Cameron guy was jealous of my form and cut it.
I was disappointed you didn’t put a shot of you in bicycle shorts in your post, but the post was great, so I forgive you. Mainly.
Tom, I love that Twain quote. And I think “mainly” is a good bar to aim for with the truth-telling.
Re the bike-short photo of me: I’m just not sure the WU audience is ready for that.
I try to give writers the benefit of the doubt when they massage details unless it comes across as lazy.
In my current fantasy WIP set in a real geographic location, I played it loose with the existence of an underwater volcano (as in, not likely in that location) but I will point out to any objectors that the main character is a mermaid so facts left room before the volcano showed up.
Jill, I love the unspoken reality check of “hey guys – you’re accepting that we’ve got a damn MERMAID here, so lighten up!”
Which is also how I felt when some folks expressed outrage about the recent casting choice for the live-action version of The Little Mermaid. Um, can’t a creature that doesn’t really exist be ANY color?
My two cents: I wrote a story in which an important plot point hinged on a young man having a medical exemption from the draft (Vietnam era), but one that other people wouldn’t notice, so I made him colorblind. I did lots of research on colorblindness (fascinating!), even picking up some childhood humiliations from various blogs to motivate this fellow to hide his condition…. Colorblindness became an important aspect of the character’s personality. Well, one day, purely by coincidence, a man I knew, who was of draftable age during the Vietnam War, mentioned that he was colorblind, to which I said, “Well, at least it kept you out of Vietnam,” and … uh, no, not at all; the opposite, in fact. Colorblind soldiers can see light and dark contrast better than normies, so they are often put in the front of jungle patrols because they can spot camouflaged snipers. My character remained colorblind, but now I can to contrive another condition to disqualify him, a stupid accident caused by his colorblindness, but it still seems just that, contrived, whereas colorblindness was perfect — if only it were true.
Grumpy, I feel your pain on that one – after you tried SO hard to set that up!