Hall of Mirrors
It's the question I hate the most as an author.
"Is this story true?"
Even Romantic Times, in reviewing The Roofer (MIRA Books) said it "could easily be mistaken for a true-crime story." But that's not quite the same as standing in front of a room full of people at a book signing and having someone ask, "Did this really happen?"
Welcome to my hall of mirrors.
Like a lot of authors, I do draw from real life for my inspiration. Unlike the character of Ava in The Roofer, I haven't been a party to a murder. At least not yet. ;-)
I prefer that my fiction be taken for fiction. Like a hall of mirrors, there may be bits and pieces of my life in there, but it's all distorted in the funhouse glass--and I like it that way. Otherwise, I'd write a memoir. Instead, I'm a novelist.
Funny . . . when Spanish Disco was released, I got my first ever fan letter. It was from a man, and he wanted to know how much like Cassie I was. My heroine was a take-no-prisoners kind of woman. She drank her tequila straight up, and she wasn't afraid to moon a man in public because he was being a jerk. She liked to curse, and she was afraid to fly--in fact, she downed a lot of valium in order to get on a plane, mixed with many shots of alchohol. But in spite of her flaws, she was brilliant and funny and maybe that was her appeal. That and her being a "bad girl." In fact, oddly, I got more fan letters from men for that book than any other I've written. But despite, like Cassie, sharing a fondness for Coke, and the ability to drink prodigious amounts of tequila, and my own fear of flying, I am not Cassie. If you come into my hall of mirrors, you may find bits of her, but it's fiction.
Writing, as it is, can be a bit like walking out naked in public. That said, I wish, more than anything, that my fiction could simply speak for itself. That the characters could exist safely in the hall of mirrors. And I could hide behind the glass.
"Is this story true?"
Even Romantic Times, in reviewing The Roofer (MIRA Books) said it "could easily be mistaken for a true-crime story." But that's not quite the same as standing in front of a room full of people at a book signing and having someone ask, "Did this really happen?"
Welcome to my hall of mirrors.
Like a lot of authors, I do draw from real life for my inspiration. Unlike the character of Ava in The Roofer, I haven't been a party to a murder. At least not yet. ;-)
I prefer that my fiction be taken for fiction. Like a hall of mirrors, there may be bits and pieces of my life in there, but it's all distorted in the funhouse glass--and I like it that way. Otherwise, I'd write a memoir. Instead, I'm a novelist.
Funny . . . when Spanish Disco was released, I got my first ever fan letter. It was from a man, and he wanted to know how much like Cassie I was. My heroine was a take-no-prisoners kind of woman. She drank her tequila straight up, and she wasn't afraid to moon a man in public because he was being a jerk. She liked to curse, and she was afraid to fly--in fact, she downed a lot of valium in order to get on a plane, mixed with many shots of alchohol. But in spite of her flaws, she was brilliant and funny and maybe that was her appeal. That and her being a "bad girl." In fact, oddly, I got more fan letters from men for that book than any other I've written. But despite, like Cassie, sharing a fondness for Coke, and the ability to drink prodigious amounts of tequila, and my own fear of flying, I am not Cassie. If you come into my hall of mirrors, you may find bits of her, but it's fiction.
Writing, as it is, can be a bit like walking out naked in public. That said, I wish, more than anything, that my fiction could simply speak for itself. That the characters could exist safely in the hall of mirrors. And I could hide behind the glass.
posted by Erica Orloff at 4:49 PM
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