Truth in Fiction

"Truth in Fiction." That phrase almost sounds like an oxymoron, doesn’t it? Perhaps it will make things more clear if I explain what I mean by truth. I think we all understand fiction—a literary work of creative imagination which does not pose as real fact or actual reality, right? So what do I mean by truth? To me, in terms of reading matter, truth is authenticity, honesty, at least a modicum of reality and a general atmosphere of rightness or correctness.

Artistic license gives authors freedom to make wild flights of fancy at times, especially when writing in the fantasy or futuristic/science fiction genres. When we get into contemporary fiction, though, that leeway must be curtailed in many ways. True, most of us know that “happily ever after” is not the fate for many couples and the good guys certainly don’t always win. Since most of us like happy endings that leave us with a warm feeling, we allow writers that detour from truth. After that things get dicey! 

For example, I stay away from writing Medieval historical tales because my study of history has erased all illusions about glamour and romance. Castles were dreary, drafty, dark and dismal. Hygiene and medicine were minimal and even the most aristocratic lived in worse case than all but the poorest of third world citizens today. I can still enjoy a well crafted story at times and will suspend disbelief to allow the heroine to bathe or perhaps assist the hero --to create some sexual tension--but I cannot write in that setting unless it truly is a fantasy.

I can only speak for myself but I’ve been a reader of fiction for over sixty-five years and over those decades have probably at least skimmed several thousand books. On occasion, I have found gross errors of fact and ‘authenticity’ which are likely to make me fling a book across the room although I normally treat any book with utmost respect.

A few examples: I reread a Zane Grey western not long ago and came across a description of a huge herd of steers which had never seen a human being! I jerked up my mental reins very hard.  Say what? For those who may not be familiar with cattle, steers are neutered male bovines, ‘fixed’ if you will, like most of us do our pet dogs and cats  and our male horses. Now how did this operation occur to these creatures out in the wilderness?  Heaven only knows! I didn’t pitch the book—it was on the screen anyway--but I mentally boxed Mr. Grey’s ears and told him I was sure he knew better!!

Even more recently, I picked up a Harlequin title by a well known multi-published category author. On page one I came across the shocking assertion that a small town in Texas was “adjacent to the Navajo reservation.” I did toss that one, literally, right into the dustbin! I could not believe no editor caught this or even that the eastern city dwelling author was so drastically uninformed. I mean everybody has to have read at least one Tony Hillerman or one of David and Ainee Thurlo’s Ella Clah mysteries! In both and elsewhere, the Navajo Rez is very clearly depicted as mainly in northeastern Arizona with a bit in northwestern New Mexico! Texas has not one reservation, certainly not the largest one in the lower forty eight! Yes, I did write a scathing note to the publisher and will probably never pick up a book by that author or even in that line again. That was egregious!

Years ago in a historical, I almost freaked out when I read the heroine had traveled by train from Flagstaff, Arizona to Salt Lake City, Utah. That would be possible but only with an extremely round about journey since even today no railroad track has ever been built across the Grand Canyon! That minor barrier sits smack between those cities.

These are the types of things I am speaking of when I say fiction must have truth. Besides various geographical, anatomical, known historical and other matters of established fact, we also need a level of authenticity in the behavior of the main characters and sometimes even the secondary or lesser ones. We need to be able to trust that although our hero or heroine may approach super-human powers, in other than a clear fantasy or Marvel comic style tales there are still limits to what ‘real’ men and women can do. We need to adhere fairly closely to established reality and ‘common knowledge’ matters such as how various agencies, the military, and other professions function. While we may be persuaded to suspend disbelief in many minor and a few not-so-minor areas when the story is very compelling and these oddities are somehow made to ‘feel’ right, when something totally violates our intelligence, knowledge or ability to stretch belief, the author has failed!

I am sure in my novels and shorter works that I have made some very gross errors. I try very hard not to but it is probably not possible to avoid such things completely. Especially in my contemporary fiction, which is the major part of what I write, I do research and work to achieve and provide realism, authenticity and a trustworthy narrative. I see this as a very key responsibility of an author. As I reader, I feel authors are obligated to do this to the best of their ability; it is almost in the nature of a sacred trust.

Back Again or The Rest of the Story...

Back in the saddle or something! Yes, I’m back and yes it has been awhile again. Things got a bit hectic and topsy turvy for a bit. My last post was about the old house and I added a kind of post script that my stepson had surprisingly offered to buy the house. 

Well that is now over and done. It got wearing as I waited while he had to apparently go thru some “stuff” to get the money he promised.  My brother did not think he would or could which would put us back at square one on the effort. I might add that Charlie is just over a year older than Malcolm and knows him somewhat from the time back in 1973 when Charlie had a huge dust up with our dad and came to live with Jim and me and the two younger kids.

Anyway, Malcolm finally did receive the money. I have no idea the source or process--nor do I want or need to know!-- but we set a tentative date for me to come to Arizona and enact an official deed and receive the check. Then the weather got iffy. On the day I finally planned to leave, Wednesday, March 13, we had a fierce windstorm, part of the “bomb cyclone” that hit the southwest. Thankfully I learned it was coming in time to postpone. A gust over 100 mph was clocked in San Augustin Pass, on Highway 70 between here and Las Cruces. 

So I left the next day and on Friday, March 15, the so called Ides of March, we managed to get the whole process done in about an hour, with absolutely no glitches or problems—although I had  a near panic attack as I sat in the truck (I drove over in RHM) waiting for Malcolm and his wife to arrive.  I started back to Benson where I had a room and kept pinching myself—an eight month odyssey had finally come to an end and probably the best way the end could have occurred. I really did not want to boot my sick stepson out into the street. He has congestive heart failure, COPD and probably type 2 diabetes.  Anyway the worry of what to do with the old home is now his. Maybe actual ownership will kick start some effort to save it. Who knows. So be it. I am in the clear with some money!

I started home the next day, seeing heavy clouds to the east as I left the area that may be our future

Steins Pass--imagine with all white!!
Road is across small valley from tracks. 

home and headed east on I-10. I noticed the rest stop at the top of Texas Canyon was jammed with semis… but just drove on. All the others for many miles were the same. By the far side of Willcox, I could see it looked very hazy on eastward but not like dust, which I had feared. Turned out it was low clouds, very low! I soon hit drizzle, near sleet. Heading up into Stein’s Pass right on the state line, I hit snow. It continued through Lordsburg and all the way to Deming. It was not really sticking on the pavement, just wet and slushy, but at times the windshield wipers barely kept the view clear. There were still semis rolling and a few travelers, some of which who had to go 85+ whether they could see or not!!

A bit stressed, I stopped in Deming and went into Denny’s for coffee and pancakes. The precipitation would go a bit more to rain and then back to white flakes but I decided I could probably get home, so topped off the gas tank and headed on. Well before Las Cruces it stopped and there were even a few peeks of sun. Then as I crossed over I-25 on the east side of town and headed up into that wind-tunnel pass, it started to rain again and soon turned to more snow. Even on the east side down to the valley floor it continued. Finally a few miles short of the White Sands National Monument, I was once more out of anything wet and there was broken clouds the rest of the way home! I said a few prayers of thanks as I pulled into the carport and saw my dogs waiting at the back gate. 

Meanwhile, of course I had been following the two big sled dog races, the Yukon Quest in February and the Iditarod in March.  My special crew of female mushers were in both. Aliy ran and won the short YQ300 while Jessie Royer and Paige Drobney ran the main race. Paige finished sixth, which was really outstanding. Jessie was a few places behind her.

Michelle Phillips in YQ

The Iditarod was wild, heavy snow, over-warm temperatures and nasty winds and a lack of sea ice up the coast to Nome. Nic Petit’s dogs ‘quit’ on him and he scratched. Two older women who had planned to make this their final race also hit brick walls and had to stop. There were thirteen scratches from the original 52 starts. Finally it came down to a very close race between last year’s champ and a guy with a fine record in mid-distance from Bethel and he won.

Jessie Royer came in third, not far behind them, and Aliy a bit later for fourth. Paige ran a very close race with a young man who had won the YQ a couple of years ago, and he beat her by just a few minutes so she finished seventh. For the first time in history, three women made the top ten and I was fiercely proud of them. Some of the rookies and second time women racers made it all the way through many hardships and had some harrowing tales but They Did It and I am proud of them too.

Jessie and Aliy at 2019
 I'rod Awards

So now, with all that in the rear view mirror, it is time to face forward and perhaps make a small turn into the beginning of a new road. Yesterday I texted with a friend who is also a real estate agent in Arizona. In fact she sold brother Alex the home of which he was so proud although he only got to live in it a few months before his sudden and shocking passing. I asked her to recommend an agent in the Benson area and she volunteered, explaining that those who have listings there will be representing the sellers whereas she can represent the buyer, in this case, Charlie and me. He will be heading out early in April to visit that area and also to go up to Kingman and compare the relative merits of both locales before we set our sights solidly on one and begin the real push to locate, buy and move to our new home. It will be hard and hectic but also exciting and something to look forward to!

I’ll try at least for awhile to get back to regular posting, some memoirs and the next two or three to be essays on the art and craft of writing. Those are triggered by a variety of things such as some books I have read recently and a look back at my own efforts. My creative work is a bit inactive for now but I do plan and intend to get back to that endeavor as I can. I must either get into self publishing to get my old Gwynn Morgan books back out to the public or create some new work soon. My racy and LGBT tales from the Amber Quill days are going to all be out with my current publisher, JMS books, soon. I really do not think I can quit forever; I have always written and fiction has always been a bit part of that. Right now though, there is too much else to demand my time and focus.