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This is adapted from an article that appeared on the Write Anything website on February 24, 2008. The original text can be found here.

Honesty

I’ve mentioned the idea of honesty in writing before. I have written about fiction being a series of beautiful lies, lies with a purpose to inspire. I recently brought up the topic of lying for fun, as a means to creativity. Rather than writing about lying again, I thought this week I should look at honesty.

Honesty is such a lonely word
Everyone is so untrue…

W. Joel

Or so the song goes. How honest are you in your writing? And please, be honest…

Despite all outward appearances (and this may make some people who know me laugh) I don’t like confrontation. I find it difficult to be blunt with people, and so often hide and soften what I mean, and what I think. I think “reticent” best describes me at times. I have often thought that the only times I am truly honest with myself is in writing. The ubiquitous "they" always say "write what you know" - and all I truly know is me. And so when I write, there is a lot of me in what I write. Characters, situations, settings. They are me, they are my life, they are the things I know. They may not be real, they may be highly stylised (which goes back to "lies with purpose") but they are a form of cathartic honesty I sometimes can’t do in my "real" life.

Two quick examples. First, The Inquisitor, a short, three-part story I wrote last year. Both the Inquisitor and the narrator are me. The story is about what I was going through at the time, even though the imagery is unfamiliar to me. It is about decisions in my life, and self-doubt about what I wanted to do with my life and to get out of life. It represents a struggle between my own fears and my rational mind, and doubts about whether I was ready to do the right thing for me.

Second, two recent characters from my Fiction Friday entries, Praxus and Tryphtus. They are also me. Praxus is how I view myself. A person who feels caught up in circumstances, yearning to be something more than his circumstances (in the story, "the Transition") allow. He is nervous about his own abilities, and relies heavily on the reassurance of others that he is doing the right thing. Tryphtus is how I would like to view myself. Confident in his own abilities and what he has become, yet he is still capable of more than might be expected, when he chooses to display his other talents. I perpetually self-doubt in a great many circumstances, and about a great many things. It is only the part of me that is like Tryphtus that means I do (eventually) act, rather than just wishing that I could do something.

All writers put themselves into their work. And so here is my honest admission. I write about myself. I write about aspects of myself. Even if the situations are unfamiliar, they are still me. My most honest moments come when I commit lies to paper.

How honest are you in your writing? Do you reveal yourself or hide yourself in your writing? Are you prepared, or able, to reveal it?

Honesty is hardly ever heard
And mostly what I need from you…