This Auto-Biography is Not About Me!
Don't you hate it when you're telling one of those "I've got this friend" stories or looking for advice, and the person you're talking to is sure it's you you're talking about? Of course, it probably is you. So that's only fair.
But with fiction writing, you run into much the same thing. I write a story. Someone who knows me reads it. They think it's about me. I have conversations something like this:
"Wow, Eric, I never knew your dad chopped off your left hand when you were twelve."
"What?!?"
"In your story. I read it last night. God, I was up for hours crying. I'm so sorry. I never knew."
"I... have my left hand. It's right here. That was just a story."
"Oh, it's OK! You can tell me! I understand. My dad was an ass, too. I mean, he never cut off my left hand, but, still!"
Or maybe...
"Eric... I'm so sorry to hear about your baby!"
"My what now?"
"Your baby. The miscarriage."
"Oh....! No, no. That was just a story I wrote."
"But it was written in the first person, so I know it was really about you."
"You.... you know I'm not a woman, right? That story's narrator was a woman."
"Still, to go through a miscarriage--! "
Yeah. So.
It's either "me" they see, or it's themselves. You know, the stereotypical writer who does a lurid novel about a small town and everyone in the town is guessing who the characters are? I mean, I can write a story, have it published, and five years later meet someone. If that person reads that story that was published five years before I met them, they still might ask if it's about them.
Well.... sure it is.
No, really. It is. On a certain level. And all of my stories are about you and all of my stories are about me. On a certain level. On various levels, in fact. On the deepest levels, that is because even if I have an idea for a story that has nothing to do with any person or event ever encountered in my life, it is still my brain shaped by the life I have lead that has conceived of and that will shape the story. Unavoidable. (But any literary critic or psych 101 student could tell you that.)
On a more superficial level, I would never deny how much of myself (and of course the people and events I encounter) go into my stories. But there is a limit. Those details sometimes just fill in gaps between the bigger ideas. They just flesh out a story. That doesn't mean I am writing "about" myself or anyone else. It just means the tiniest hints of myself are present to round out the story.
And more often than not, those "recognizable" elements in the stories are not things taken from lives I am familiar with, but sparks that are thrown off by total strangers in passing. An argument in a restaurant. A drunk on a bus.
I'm sure the importance of those "tiny" details could be debated, but the point here is that... please don't read a story I wrote and decide that was my childhood trauma/ broken marriage/mid-life crisis I am writing about. It isn't.
Not always, anyway.


