Sunday, 8 May 2011

Illusions, Lies and Other Miracles

I've been sick, so I'm using a little bit of internet magic to make this appear as if it appeared in the past. It's like time travel, except it's a lie.

And boy do I love lies.

Any writer of fiction does. We can't tell the truth with-out them.

The differences between a good story and a good lie are absolutely minimal, and both are done under similar circumstances. Both writers and readers will try to justify it. After all. the reader knows they're being lied to. This is called the "Suspension of Disbelief" and it is most often applied to fantasy, where the lies are so obvious you have to put your disbelief aside.

But as a story hits closer to home, the lies become smaller but oh-so-much more important.

Crime and mysteries are the worst perpetrators here. They take place in a world that is exactly like ours - and the first lie they tell is that it is ours. This is a big lie that all writers tell.

But if you know anything about the butterfly effect, you'd realize that if it was our world, the story would have to be true, and if the story was true, it would have repercussions.

This you set aside because, quite frankly, you're thinking too hard about it.

But what are the other lies? Locations that don't exist, people that were never born, forensic techniques that are just a bit beyond reality. Little lies.

Little lies make a story engaging, because the real world is boring. If we were only able to work with what was actually there, and use it how it actually behaves, we'd find ourselves extremely limited.

If I were like many others on this blog I'd turn this into a series on how to lie effectively, but I know you didn't make it this far in life through the virtue of honesty. Go do what you've always known how.

1 comment:

  1. It always throws me to think about writing in the light of being a pack of lies.