Truth in Fiction -- On Writing

Mark Twain
(photo from americaslibrary.gov)

In this day and age of 'truthiness' (used satirically way back in 2005 by Stephen Colbert) and 'fake news' (used by *rump for any statement of fact with which he disagrees,) I write fiction. "What's the difference between truth and fiction?" you might well ask. 

From The American Heritage Dictionary:

     "truth (trooth) n. 1. Conformity to fact or actuality. [Middle English trewth, loyalty, from Old
           English treowth. see deru-  in Appendix I]
           Appendix I  deru- also dreu-. To be firm, solid, steadfast.
                  Derivatives include tree, trust, betroth, endure, and druid."

     "fic·tion (ˈfik-shən) n. 1a. An imaginative creation or a pretense that does not represent
         actuality but has been invented. 3a. A literary work whose content is produced by
         the imagination and is not necessarily based on fact. [Middle English ficcioun, from
         Old French fiction, from Latin fictio. . . ."

Now you know the difference, but what's truth got to do with writing fiction? Mark Twain said it perfectly -- "Truth is stranger than fiction, but it is because fiction is obliged to stick to possibilities; Truth isn't."

Which brings us to another word:
     "veri·si·mil·i·tude  (ver-ə-sə-ˈmi-lə-ˌtüd , -ˌtyüd) n. 1. The quality of appearing to be true or real.

And verisimilitude is what fiction must have "The quality of appearing to be true...." even if it's set hundreds of years in the future. Or the past. Whether it's populated by zombies or typical teenagers.

Fictional settings must put the reader into the place. The writer must give the reader the sights, smells, sounds, and feel of the place. And sometimes the taste. Whether we consciously think about it or not, our senses tell us where we are in the world and a writer can play to those senses.

The writer need not use graphic sensory descriptions. The scent of impending rain. The air need not be laden with the smell of roses or the feedlot (unless, of course, roses or manure play a role in the story.) The sound of summer insects welcoming the night. The writer doesn't have to specify which insects. Light dappling the still waters. Specific colors are not necessary. The hot wind driving him across the prairie. It could be burning his skin or drying his sweat. The salt water filling my mouth. From whatever water source.

Unless specifics are necessary to the story, the writer can and should leave them to the readers' imagination. Give the reader room to bring their own experiences to the story. Let them participate.

If the setting is a real place, use specific, real descriptions. The reader will be reminded of the place if he's been there or he will recognize it, should he ever find himself there.

Keep in mind, describing reality can be a trap that the writer unwittingly sets for himself. Descriptions of reality must be absolutely accurate.

I was listening to music from the Disney film Pocahontas. The phrase "blue corn moon" threw me out of the song's narrative. The story is set in what is now Virginia. Blue corn grows in Mexico and the American Southwest. Blue corn in Virginia is wrong.

My husband pointed out "It's Disney! Deer don't make friends with rabbits, either." Well, there is that. We can all point to exceptions, Disney being a successful one when it comes to unreality.

Characters should be treated with the same lack of specificity. Unless a physical characteristic is necessary to the plot, writers shouldn't get too specific. Characters' thought processes, speech patterns, and behaviors are more important than whether or not she has blonde hair or he has a six-pack.

The use of our senses comes into describing our characters, too. Smelling of tobacco and alcohol, Geoff loomed over her. Her teeth chattering, she cringed away from him. We all know these characters. Readers will fill in whatever they need to be satisfied about what these characters look like.

And, as with real places, real people who might show up in our fiction, must be treated scrupulously. If Thomas Jefferson or Henry VIII appear, their hair must not be described as black or blond. Too many readers know they had red hair. Teddy Roosevelt wore glasses. Shirley Temple had a dimple.

We don't have to mention these things, but it's important to get the things we do mention about real people, right.

We, as writers, don't want to remind our readers that these stories are fiction. We want them to believe in the story and the characters enough to stick around and see how it comes out. Maybe they'll even seek out other things we've written.

So, unlike politicians, we fiction writers gotta keep it real. Or at least real enough.

Lampedusa -- a Review

Lampedusa is an excellent 2016 two-part Italian mini-series starring Claudio Amendola as Coast Guard Commander Marco Serra and Carolina Crescentini as Viola the administrator of a refugee reception center.

This production gives human faces to the unimaginable numbers of refugees fleeing across the Mediterranean Sea in dangerously inadequate water craft and to the people who try to help them.

Commander Serra is just the kind of fiercely independent hero, we love and the military brass hates. He trusts and supports his crew doing the thankless, but courageous job of saving refugees even if it means bucking orders. And sometimes saving local fishermen from an aggressive Libyan navy who tries to confiscate their boat, their only source of livelihood. (Somehow, it never occurred to me to be concerned about Italian fishermen in the Mediterranean. But of course their work can take them off the coast of the Libya, the same Libya of the infamous Benghazi attack in 2012.)

And Viola has the equally thankless and courageous job of welcoming destitute people and then trying to provide for them until they can be relocated to a more permanent encampment on the mainland. Depending on insufficient funding from the Italian government and the sporadic beneficence of the world at large, she must provide food, shelter, medical care, etc., etc., etc. to these needy people.

Commander Serra rescues a young boy Daki from the sea. He turns Daki over to Viola. Neither of them know that Daki's mother and younger sister were left in Libya until she can manage to get them on another boat to Italy.

All this in the midst of the Lampedusa community, a community with its own needs and concerns. That community is divided between those who have historically welcomed and helped people coming through in search of a better life and those who want to protect their way of life on the island.

Lampedusa's economy depends on fishing, agriculture, and tourism. Just like the real island, some of the people in this drama depend on tourism for their daily bread. And getting people to come to a beautiful island for their holidays when their enjoyment may be disrupted by bodies in various states of decomposition washed up on the beautiful beaches. Or the swim-with-dolphins excursion interrupted by a distress call from a vessel sinking with too many souls needing rescue. For them the refugees are not welcome at all, not even temporarily.

This is a fictional account of the altogether too real circumstances of Lampedusa. As the European territory closest to Libya, it has become a prime transit point for irregular immigrants wanting to enter Europe from Africa, the Middle East, and Asia. It is an Italian island 127 miles southwest of Sicily. In point of fact it is closer to Libya than it is to Italy.

According to Wikipedia, Lampedusa has an area of about 7.8 square miles and a population of about 6,000 people. We are talking an island just a little more than one-half the size of Liberty Island, the home of the Statue of Liberty. And a population of about the same size as Flathead, Montana. Ever heard of it? Me, neither. Other than being in the middle of the proverbial nowhere, I doubt the two communities have much in common.

According to the UN Refugee Agency more than 150,000 refugees made the crossing between Libya and Italy with the likelihood of dying during the attempt at one death for every 47 arrivals. Can you imagine your little community of 6,000 hosting an influx of that many people for whatever short interval of time until they can move on to what they hope will be a better life.

How bad must the circumstances be for a woman to take her eight- and ten-year-old children to a country where she's never been and where she does not speak the language? On foot, many miles across hostile, unforgiving land. Then unable to all get on a questionable boat to cross the sea, she chooses to send her ten-year-old alone. She knows many people have died trying to make that crossing, but she sees the danger as less than the danger of waiting until they can all go. She sees the opportunities for him as greater than the risk. That is not only Daki's fictional story, but the real story of real people.

What do I know about refugees or, for that matter, a small island in the Mediterranean Sea? I live in Colorado. Our economy comes from the supersectors of natural resources and construction, leisure and hospitality, and education and health services. The federal government is a major economic force with military bases and offices and labs connected to all the government agencies.

Colorado has abundant National Forest land and four National Parks that draw millions of tourists every year. It is notable for its concentration of scientific research and high-technology industries. Other industries include food processing, transportation equipment, the production of machinery and chemical products, and the mining of metals such as gold, silver, and molybdenum.

Instead of the beautiful sea and sky that Lampedusa enjoys, we have the mountains and sky. Colorado now also has the largest annual production of beer of any state. Denver is an important financial center. It is home to professional sports teams from Roller Derby to Rugby and Lacrosse and includes ice hockey, soccer, and all the regulars like football, baseball, and basketball. What "white privilege?" We have "Colorado privilege."

Lampedusa the TV mini-series brings to us a visceral sense of these people's reality in a way that we can kind of begin to actually understand them.

The only access to this production that I know of is Amazon MHz. I don't know what that is, but it's out there. I just happened onto the mini-series on our local International Mysteries channel. It is worth looking for.

Why I Admire Good Fiction

A Sci-Fi/Murder Mystery

Why I admire good fiction. It's because fiction tempers reality. Pushes it away from me, at least for a little while. Gives me an image of a better way, a better world.

Last week a man shot to death forty-nine people and was, himself, shot to death in a night club.

Last week an alligator killed a toddler in an amusement park. His father and mother couldn't save him. Alligators live in almost all bodies of water in Florida. The child's Nebraska family were not used to protecting their children from such a threat.

Last week three three-year-olds died in closed cars of heat stroke -- a pair of twins in Bossier City, Louisiana, and a little boy in Houston, Texas. And it doesn't look like the parents were necessarily negligent. The children all died in vehicles parked at their homes. It is so easy for little ones to slip away and they all like to play in the family car. A dangerous choice in the heat of summer, but children don't know about that.

Last week a mountain lion attacked a five-year-old boy in his front yard near Aspen, Colorado. The boy's mother was able to pry the cat's jaws open with her bare hands and save her child. Although this story ended better, more like the plot line of a piece of fiction, I can only imagine how long this terror will haunt them.

That was last week's reality.

Real life makes me seriously reconsider my chosen writing genre. I write murder mysteries. My favorite recreational reading is the old fashioned murder mystery. The same with my go-to television and movies fare. How can I spend so much time with such reminders of reality?

I don't like thrillers that involve graphic torture or sexual assault. Those are worse in books than in movies or on TV. At least the Indiana Jones movies have musical scores that tell me when it's safe to uncover my eyes. And most TV shows give me enough warning that I can head for the fridge or go put a load in the washer when I need to. Maybe with the rise of ebooks we'll get some kind of musical score or trigger warnings that will tell us which pages to skip.

What makes a murder mystery I like? We find out who killed the victim. We find out why they killed them. We get satisfying endings. Often, like the nightclub shooter, the villain dies at the end. Even if the book or show ends with the murderer arrested, but before they are tried, sentenced, and removed from society, we know that they will be removed from society. We can sleep safe in our beds.

That's fiction.

Real life never gives us trigger warnings and seldom has a satisfying ending. We might get a pretty good idea who dunnit. Maybe even some idea of why. Whatever the reason why, it never seems like a good enough reason. And the thought of neither imprisonment nor of capital punishment truly satisfies. The victim's losses are too great to be 'paid for.' Our losses as a society are too great.

And good fiction? Ahhhhh. The best is when the author gives us a protagonist who does the right thing for the right reason, no matter how difficult it is. And they do it without fanfare or medals, satisfied that the good guys win.

Fanfare and medals are never enough to fill a real hero's loss. They can never unknow the wrong that was done or what they had to do to try to right it. And, somehow, winning just isn't enough.

I'll keep writing fictional murder mysteries, hopefully good ones. No doubt reality will continue to happen and I'll have to reconsider the morality of writing fiction. Again.

Reality in Fiction

Successful fiction is built on reality. Not just the plot and the characters, but the setting must be based in reality, too.

The setting could be very like a character in the story, as a haunted house might be or a hurricane-lashed shore or a snow-bound mountain pass. In which case, a writer must be as meticulous in making it a complete vision as they would be with any major character.

Even if this setting is just a setting, it still must be believable. Descriptions and references to the real world need not be numerous or extensive. Real world minutiae will stimulate the reader to fill in the rest of the setting. 

Not every reader will be an expert in all fields, but each reader will be an expert in their own lives and worlds so a writer must be accurate in their small bits of reality. We don't want to do anything to throw the reader out of the story.

It doesn't matter what our setting is. Conformity to the real world is the place to begin. Then we can add the touches that will make our setting fit somewhere in the past or far into the future. In deepest, darkest Africa or the sunny splendor of the Caribbean. 

An easy method of research to write believable fiction is to pay attention to our world. It's a good habit to cultivate.

Yesterday, I took my car in for an oil change. 

This is the view from the parking lot of the oil and lube place. That white area at the top of the hills just left of center is actually Pike's Peak, seventy miles to the south. We can see it from my front porch, too. When I look at it, I focus on it and it is much larger in my view than it is in this photo. When I am LOOKING at it, I naturally crop all the things I'm not interested in and zoom in on, in this case, the snow covered mountain top.

Photos of the moon work the same way. A rising full moon looks huge, but try to get a photo giving the moon the same prominence without zooming in on it. You can't.

And that's the way we must bring a reader into the setting. Zoom in on the visual element that will put them firmly into the setting.

While my car was being serviced, I walked the half mile or so down to my house, paying particular attention to things around me.
                    

Spring has finally arrived here at the base of the Rocky Mountains and the lilacs are in bloom. During my walk I passed both white and purple forms of lilacs. Guess what. The white lilacs in the left photo have no scent, while the purple ones in the right photo do. Almost to the point of being overwhelming.

Lilacs remind me: if I put plants in my scene, I must be sure to have the right plants. Lilacs and apples, don't do well in Southeast Arkansas. It doesn't get cold enough for them there. Honeysuckle does do well there and fills the air with it's own perfume. It does not do well here.

             

                         Columbine                                                       Irises

In May, the daffodils are gone. They bloomed a month before the last snows. And the tulips are past their prime. Columbine and Irises bloom in early summer. Roses are showing new growth and putting on leaves. Lawn mower tracks sweep back and forth over luxuriant grass.

These plants give the impression that the neighborhood is well-kept and the people are concerned with how it looks. They have enough leisure time to spend on lawn care or enough money to hire it done.

It doesn't matter what our neighborhood is really like. We can use real things about it to portray it in any light we like.

               

                                Dandelion                                      tiny purple Stork's Bill, leaf litter,
                                                                                         and plants run amok

In addition to the tony, well-cared-for lawns on my walk, there were Dandelions growing unfettered in cracks and along the edges of the sidewalk. Tiny, purple Stork's Bill, identified by the local Extension Service as weeds have taken over a yard here and there. (Actually, I rather like both flowers.)

Because they are generally regarded as weeds, these plants give the impression that this neighborhood is less well-off, a bit rundown, lower class perhaps.

By the mere mention of what's growing in the neighborhood, we can focus our readers' views and set the tone of the scene.

"Sorry I'm in the way, will move soon."

A house shrouded in tarps, stacks of new building materials extending onto the sidewalk, the sharp popping sounds of nail guns, people talking as they work. All signs pointing to a remodel of the house, a positive tone. Here is a home being restored or improved.

If the building materials appear to be weathered and there are no workmen on site, the sense of the scene is very different.

(In reality, this house is being remodeled. I love that the workmen apologized for their materials blocking part of the sidewalk. And only a small part of the sidewalk at that.)

Take a walk in your neighborhood and see how you see it. And how it smells. What can you hear?How does the air feel? What effort does the terrain require of you? How does the light change as you go? What else can you use to make a setting seem real?

Maybe the best thing about my walk yesterday was that my husband gave me a ride back up the hill to get my car when it was done.

Justice -- Reality or Illusion?

I am real. I am typing this right this minute. The letters are appearing on my laptop's screen and forming into words. Into sentences. Forming symbols that will convey my understanding of Justice to anyone who can read English.

Reality or Illusion?

I might be an app and if I am there would be no need for me to use a keyboard. And this minute could have been hours ago. Or days. Or years. The letters may never have appeared on any screen until you started reading this post. And, I can assure you, only I will understand the thoughts I write exactly as I intend them to be understood. And that's just for today. Some tomorrow, I will have forgotten most of today and experienced enough of life to change my understanding of Justice.

Merriam Webster defines Justice as:
1   a :  the maintenance or administration of what is just especially by the impartial adjustment of
           conflicting claims or the assignment of merited rewards or punishments
     b :  judge
     c :  the administration of law; especially :  the establishment or determination of rights according
           to the rules of law or equity
2   a :  the quality of being just, impartial, or fair
     b (1) :  the principle or ideal of just dealing or right action (2) :  conformity to this principle or
           ideal :  righteousness
     c :  the quality of conforming to law

I want Justice to exist, especially the fair part.

We humans are not alone in this. My husband and I used to have two dogs. Oscar a Dachshund and Bess the Basset Hound. (Actually, we've had many dogs, though never more than three at a time. And cats and birds and fish. And the idea of wanting fair treatment has been observable in all of them. Well, maybe not the fish. I never got well enough acquainted with individual fish to be able to ascribe to them any particular interest in anything other than food and sex.)

Anyway, Oscar and Bess liked to lick our yogurt cups and ice cream bowls. When there was only one for us to share with them, we had to give the other a doggy treat. Even then, they could hardly wait until their sibling finished so they could get a chance at the cup or bowl. They made it quite clear that they did not consider a Milk Bone in lieu of the yogurt cup or ice cream bowl, fair.

I think the desire for Justice is the driving force for the popularity of fictional murder mysteries. Although true crime inspires many nonfiction books and television shows, it's fiction I like. In a novel, TV show, or movie you almost always find out who done it. And the murderer is dealt with, promptly and without regard to their family or financial status. That's fair.

Unless, of course, the accused is innocent, then Justice is served because they are acquitted and the right baddie is identified. We're still talking fiction here.

That's why I write Science Fiction/Murder Mysteries. (Murder on Ceres)

Real life and true crime stories don't work that way. In real life, unless you personally know who done it (or maybe you did it yourself) you can never be sure that the right person is 'brought to justice.' And all too often the application of Justice is capricious and random.

Reality is if you get caught smoking a joint in the privacy of your own home in Denver, you might be considered inhospitable if you don't offer your guest a hit.

Get caught smoking a joint anywhere in Oklahoma and you could face a felony charge and one year in prison. Get caught again, and you could be looking at two to ten years incarceration.

More reality, in Oklahoma, a person can get convicted of First Degree Rape and be sentenced to five years. Or anything up to life without parole. Or the death penalty.

Wait a minute -- step across the Colorado State Line into Oklahoma and get caught more than once smoking a joint and you could be sentenced to more time in jail than someone who gets the minimum sentence for First Degree Rape. That can't be fair.

Ah, the reality of Justice is murky water meandering through a dangerous bog. (That's why lawyers get the big bucks.)

Now, I'm not a lawyer and I sure ain't gonna smoke marijuana in Oklahoma.

Think I'll stick to fiction where Justice is the kind of illusion I want to be real.

Gaiman, Neil Gaiman -- A Review

The problem with a new book by an author I particularly like, is that I expect it to be like the other books by that author. Even when I know it’s going to be different. Neil Gaiman’s Trigger Warning is very different from the other Gaiman books I’ve read.

It’s a collection of short fiction, and I’ve only read his novels. Already I’m in unfamiliar territory. But with Neil Gaiman it’s always unfamiliar territory. He writes fairy tales and myths for grownups. If you haven’t read him before, let me recommend Stardust, then Good Omens (which he did with Terry Pratchett,) and American Gods. Each is very different from the other, but they all do the same good things. They take you on exciting journeys, provide you with interesting companions, and never, ever do the expected.

He’s also written numerous children’s books including Coraline, which I love, and The Day I Swapped My Dad for Two Goldfish, which I gave to my youngest grandchild Silas. The Ocean at the End of the Lane was for oldest Martha. And a copy of Stardust for the middle grandchild John Riley. All three were signed by Mr. Gaiman last February. That book-signing was certainly memorable – all properly documented in a blog post. See Neil Gaiman Book Signing.

Trigger Warning starts out with a lengthy introduction which I skipped after only the tiniest taste. I’m a cut-to-the-chase kind of woman. What he thinks, what inspires him, where each story was first published or aired (in the case of the Doctor Who episodes) these are of interest to many, but I’m here for the stories.

The first two stories just didn’t do it for me. I was on the verge of disappointment. But the third? The third was the Neil Gaiman I love. “The Thing about Cassandra” is a story about a very commonplace happening in a man’s past. Or was it commonplace? Did it happen? It’s that little zone in your mind, the thinnest of lines between reality and memory that we all have. And I was hooked.

The next Gaiman book on my to-read list is Ocean at the End of the Lane. Maybe I can borrow it from my granddaughter.