Anyone who sets out to be a writer
soon discovers they have countless friends and acquaintances with stories they
believe should be told. They want to tell you the entire, blow-by-blow story of
their grandfather’s emigration from Europe, their sister’s struggle with
infertility, their aunt’s arrest for embezzlement, and on and on.
And some of these accounts are
actually good, inspiring, entertaining, and even commercial stories. But not usually the way you’ll hear them. Every person has several wonderful books
and/or movies in them. The problem is
that strict autobiography, with every single detail included for accuracy, does
not always make a great tale. Just as
wonderful storytellers know to embellish and embroider here, and subtract
there, so should these real-life accounts be adjusted to make them more
palatable to others. And it’s not a
crime to fictionalize a story, as long as you’re up front about it. Obviously if you claim something to be
nonfiction, then you have to stick with the facts, documentary-style.
But most of us are not writing
unadorned nonfiction, or testifying in court.
We are making art, as opposed
to photography. We need to learn how to
pick out the best berries, and discard the unusable ones. Maya Angelou once said, “There is no greater
agony than bearing an untold story inside you.” And she’s right, but a good writer knows that
the story can have even more power and impact if you shine it up a bit. Yes,
tell your story, make your point. But
leave out the details of your grandfather’s every sneeze, your sister’s
aggravation with her hair, your aunt’s fascination with where she parked each
day. Most people’s diaries are not
published exactly as written for a reason.
Most of them contain parts that can be edited out—they veer off track,
they ramble, they repeat, they contain mistakes. Cleaned up, some of them might make good
reading. But cleanup is usually
essential.
My husband, Bob, used to host game
shows and talk shows when we lived in L.A., and one time he interviewed
Nicholas Sparks about his book, Message
in a Bottle, which had been made into a movie. Bob had been grandly disappointed that the
protagonist died after finally finding love again, and asked the author why he
did that. Mr. Sparks replied that, quite
simply, that’s how it actually happened—it was his grandfather’s story. But Bob was so upset about this unfair turn
of events that it prompted him to write a novel of his own, one with a happier
ending. It was nothing like Sparks’
story, but it made Bob realize the importance of putting the romance first, and
the accuracy of historical events second, if they undermine the suspense or the
intrigue a reader expects. Sometimes you
simply have to let go of “truth at all costs,” to craft a story people will
love. Now, Mr. Sparks is a widely
popular writer, so it’s hard to criticize a choice of his, when so many people
follow his work. But it does make you
wonder if he might have pulled in even more readers for that book, if only he
had given the story its own heart, its own path to follow, and simply let
history be the backdrop.
No comments:
Post a Comment