Image by Khusen Rustamov from Pixabay
Fantasy
versus reality. This is a recurring theme in our author discussions
and blogs. As authors of erotica, do we have a responsibility to
paint a somewhat realistic picture of the complexities of human
desire? Or is our role to create engaging fictional worlds and people
them with characters who have more and better sex than most of us
actually experience? Should our BDSM stories portray the actual
practices of the kink community, complete with negotiation and
limits? Or should we allow ourselves to descend into dark fantasies
of acts that might be risky, even physically impossible, because
that's what pushes our buttons?
I
don't intend to reopen this debate right now. Even if you're firmly
in the “realism” camp, however, I'm sure you'll admit to
consciously constructing your stories to enhance their emotional
effect. You introduce elements of suspense. You gradually intensify
conflict. Ultimately, you provide enough of a resolution to give
readers a sense of closure. This is, after all, the role of the
storyteller – to build a coherent whole out of an assortment of
people, actions and events, a tale that will linger in the readers'
(or listeners') minds and perhaps, change them.
We
do this, often quite deliberately, when we write fiction. But what
about autobiography or memoir?
Several
years ago, I reviewed an anthology of “true sex stories”. Each
author had written about some crucial erotic experience in her life,
some encounter or relationship that had particular significance. The
authors' accounts were well-crafted, diverse, and frequently hot.
However, they were more or less indistinguishable from the fictional
erotic tales that appear in so many collections from this same
publisher. There was nothing about them that signaled that they were
“true” or “real”. The tales had been subjected to the
storyteller's craft – smoothed, tailored, refined – turned into
works of art.
Please
understand, this is merely an observation, not a criticism. As I
contemplate the so-called true stories in this book, though, I wonder
whether the phrase is an oxymoron, whether “story” and “truth”
(in the sense of actual experience) can ever coexist. “Story” by
its very nature implies an intervention to turn raw phenomena into
narration.
Of
course, many erotic authors – myself included - mine their own
histories as material for their fiction. Much of my work is to a
greater or lesser extent autobiographical. A few tales (I won't say
which ones) are nearly literal accounts. In every case, though, I've
applied my storyteller's lens to the details of my real world erotic
encounters – bringing some aspects into sharper focus while
blurring others. Some alterations are intentional misdirections to
protect the so-called innocent, but most have to do with whipping the
tales into a more literary shape, transforming them from anecdotes to
stories.
As
I contemplated the phenomenon of the“true” collection described
above, however, I realized that I do the same thing with supposedly
accurate descriptions of my “real” life. Between Oh Get a
Grip, my personal blog Beyond Romance, the ERWA blog, my publishers' blogs, and my
frequent guest posts, I produce quite a lot of material about myself
and my past. I know I'm writing for an audience, and, without really
meaning to, I adapt my life story to fit my perceptions about what
they'll find intriguing. At this point, it's practically second
nature to tweak a detail here, neaten up an ending there, to heighten
the emotional impact.
I'm
a bit disturbed to note that in some cases, the stories I've told you
are now the stories I remember. I am not sure I recall what actually
happened, only what I've told you happened. In fact, some of my
fictional tales, even the ones not intended to be “true”, feel
just as real.
As
psychologist Daniel Kahneman points out, direct experience is
fleeting. Memory is an act of creation – or re-creation – an
effort to enforce some order on the fragmentary impressions left by
our senses. There's no guarantee that our recollections are accurate.
In fact research has shown that they can be systematically
manipulated by changing our foci of attention.
There
are two ways to react to these findings. We can panic, as the
supposedly solid ground of remembered experience turns to perilous
quicksand. If we can't be sure about our own life histories, is there
any certainty at all?
On
the other hand, we can embrace our storytelling genius, our genetic
predisposition to rearrange and restructure the world into some shape
that makes sense, as a gift. We all tell ourselves stories and create
realities – whether we call them fiction or not. That may be
unsettling. But it's also a kind of magic.
5 comments:
Very interesting. You make a good point. I think it is a good magic.
Great post!
Thanks to both of you!
I've read about people like Marilu Henner, the actress from Taxi, who is a member of a very small world-wide group of people who remember every single moment of their lives. YUCK! I remember flashes, random images, from most of it, and have coherent, linear memories of only a few incidents, like my wedding day, and the days each of my kids were born. Most of life is boring repetition...wake up, eat, go to work, eat, come home, eat, relax, go to sleep...repeat as needed. Who wants to remember every minute of that??
I told my kids that you get through the boring repetitious part however you need to. I tell myself stories in my head, and that's why I'm an author. Then, if you're lucky, you have extremely GOOD experiences, that you will treasure. And of course, you will have extremely BAD experiences also...that you wish you could forget...like holding Dad's hand as he took his last breath...or hugging Mom right after her last breath. Those burn themselves into your memory. You hope that you ultimately, will have more good than bad...but we can't know ahead of time.
And even though I say I remember each moment, I'm sure part of my memories involve me supplying what my memory forgot...because, after all, I'm an author, and that's what we do. Great post! I'm trying to be present on-line more, since it's summer. Got to be here while I can, before the school year drags me away again!
Hi, Fiona! Thanks for visiting.
I agree, we probably forget a lot because it's fundamentally forgettable.
Hope you get some time to write during the school break.
xxoo
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