Fiction Is Not The Truth (It’s More Than Truth)

Die-hard fans, please don’t kill me when I say his, but Harry Potter doesn’t exist. He’s the product of JK Rowling’s (brilliant) imagination.

All Harry Potter stories — no matter how convincing in the books or the movies — aren’t real. Hogwarts doesn’t exist, Hagrid was never born, and you-know-who never killed Harry’s parents. Fiction storytellers tell beautiful lies, and Harry Potter is just another lie.

And yet, the story of Harry Potter is not about the boy and his two friends fighting against the Dark Magic.

It’s about friendship, love, and courage. It’s about having the people you care about close to you and asking for help when you need to.

A dragon is a lie, but the idea that anything can be conquered — is a big truth you read fiction for in the first place.

Fiction is not the truth; it goes beyond than just truth.

To Appeal To The Masses, Be Specific

Writers often get advice that they should strive to be vulnerable in their work, but few people explain why.

Vulnerability is not a tactic. It’s not a click-bait mechanic you use to attract more readers to your blog or book.

Being specific about your personal stories, insecurities, and struggles allow you to connect with your readers on a deeper level.

Some things specific apply to many of us.

I’ve noticed this with my writing many times. When I write things that are supposed to work for everyone, few people notice. But when I forget about the masses and write for myself — and people like me — that’s the kind of work that gets the most attention and resonance.

Now, whenever I have palpitations as I am writing, I am thrilled. I know that this is what creating art feels.

So — I relax into my work.

The Role of Truth In Fiction

In his Masterclass, Neil Gaiman gives great advice to young writers. He talks about the role of truth in fiction, and he calls it “seasoning for your stories.”

It’s almost impossible to write objective truth — nor do people want you to. What we’re looking for in your books, blog posts, and articles is something convincing. Something which we can believe, and take out the broader lesson for ourselves.

Truth is the seasoning that makes the writing convincing.

What An Artist Gets Paid For

Those of you who have been following my work for a while know that I’ve been interested in art as a subject for quite some time now.

Over the past few months, I’ve asked myself the eternal question: what does an artist do? What’s his job? Why is “art” so different — at least perceived by society — from, say, financial markets.

Steven Pressfield has an answer to this question. He says, “The work of an artist is to shuttle back and forth between the conscious and the subconscious. That’s her bread and butter.”

This is an interesting way of looking at things. But I have my own, simpler (maybe even a too simple) answer.

The job of an artist is to be as honest as she can.

That’s what she gets up in the morning for. That’s what she gets paid for. Mysticism aside, that’s all there is to art.

When You Don’t Know What To Write About, Do This

Be honest.

When people say they don’t know what to write about, they are not lying. It’s hard to know what to write about when you’re also trying to write something “safe” and making sure than you’re not embarrassing yourself. By these criteria, the options are quite limited.

But if you let go of these criteria — and risk embarrassment, ridicule, and venturing into something that feels like undressing yourself in public — then you suddenly have a lot of things to write about. Unlimited.

It’s easy to write “3 Things That Will Make Your Life Great” type of articles. It’s hard to write “What I Fear The Most” type of articles. And yet, most readers long for human connection that comes out when you write the latter.

I’d like to say that it gets simpler with time. But the more you write — the more honest you have to be. Your ability to be honest grows proportionately to your skill, of course.

But it never gets easier.

The emotional labor of being honest is a battle you — as a creative — have to fight each day anew.