What is the greatest compliment I've heard from those who’ve reviewed my manuscript? “Wow Gail. I didn’t know all of that happened.”
Surprise. It didn’t. You believed it, though, and that is why I called it fiction.
In my quest to write stories you can’t quit reading, I started with what I know and love, and researched the rest. Sorry to disappoint.
I’m not the first writer to worry: What will my friends and family think when they read my book and see characters that look like them?
I’m hoping they will understand, but if they don’t, here’s my raison d’etre.
My life has been full of interesting, wonderful, intriguing, powerful, colorful people. I can only write what I know. If I loved you, if I shared a part of my life with you, it is possible you may see someone similar to you in my stories. Similar, I repeat. I am a fiction writer. This is not memoir. Almost every passage, every detail, every plot line is made up. The setting, the historical details, the places and times and even the background may be based in reality, but the story is fiction. Every bit of it.
My characters are believable because I know you, because I studied you, and then I gave your character fictional qualities that fit my story. This is not your story. It’s mine. I created characters that dance to my tunes. You, my friends and family, do not dance to my tunes! I love that about you. I don’t want to make sense of real life. Instead, in my fiction, I want to superimpose sense onto my chaotic reality.
Here’s an example: an important character in my book is a Native Alaskan woman whose grandparents settled in Anchorage in the 1940s. I have actual uncles, aunts and cousins who fit some of those broad characteristics, but otherwise, everything is made up about my Dawnell character – names, history, background, personalities and most importantly, her story. This woman represents all of Alaska to me: tough, charming, sexy, dangerous, brave, unforgiving, motherly, and the source of opportunity. In reality, my native relatives are dear people with normal lives.
The day may come when my characters will jump off the page into the hands of my friends and family. On that day, I will say this: Thank you for being a part of my life and inspiring my stories.
Surprise. It didn’t. You believed it, though, and that is why I called it fiction.
In my quest to write stories you can’t quit reading, I started with what I know and love, and researched the rest. Sorry to disappoint.
I’m not the first writer to worry: What will my friends and family think when they read my book and see characters that look like them?
I’m hoping they will understand, but if they don’t, here’s my raison d’etre.
My life has been full of interesting, wonderful, intriguing, powerful, colorful people. I can only write what I know. If I loved you, if I shared a part of my life with you, it is possible you may see someone similar to you in my stories. Similar, I repeat. I am a fiction writer. This is not memoir. Almost every passage, every detail, every plot line is made up. The setting, the historical details, the places and times and even the background may be based in reality, but the story is fiction. Every bit of it.
My characters are believable because I know you, because I studied you, and then I gave your character fictional qualities that fit my story. This is not your story. It’s mine. I created characters that dance to my tunes. You, my friends and family, do not dance to my tunes! I love that about you. I don’t want to make sense of real life. Instead, in my fiction, I want to superimpose sense onto my chaotic reality.
Here’s an example: an important character in my book is a Native Alaskan woman whose grandparents settled in Anchorage in the 1940s. I have actual uncles, aunts and cousins who fit some of those broad characteristics, but otherwise, everything is made up about my Dawnell character – names, history, background, personalities and most importantly, her story. This woman represents all of Alaska to me: tough, charming, sexy, dangerous, brave, unforgiving, motherly, and the source of opportunity. In reality, my native relatives are dear people with normal lives.
The day may come when my characters will jump off the page into the hands of my friends and family. On that day, I will say this: Thank you for being a part of my life and inspiring my stories.