My name is Heather Haven; I am 28 years old, and weigh 123 pounds. The first statement was true. If you saw me in person, you would know immediately the last two statements were a bald-faced lie. But that’s okay. I am allowed to lie. I write fiction.
As a writer of fiction, I get away with making stuff up. In fact, it’s encouraged. I can lie like a rug covered in cat hairs. And do. Of course, at one time I was 28 and weighed 123, so I did ‘ground’ myself in the truth. Or did I ‘grind’ the truth?
In the happy world of fiction, the truth is not all it’s cracked up to be, anyway. I mean if it was, would fiction be so prevalent? Would it be so clamored for? Would Agatha Christie’s book sales be second only to the Bible?
As we know, fiction shines a light on the truth. Fiction writers get rid of the flotsam and jetsam floating in a sea of facts, obscuring real issues. As for me, I also try to throw in a few laughs along the way.
All my books are grounded in truth. They have to be. When I started writing the 9th book of the Alvarez Family Murder Mysteries, The Drop-Dead Temple of Doom, I did eight months of research before I could write a word. It was a crash course in the ancient Mayans, the jungles of Guatemala, and the worlds of orchids and coffee. Not only did the book win a prestigious award, but most importantly, several archeologists wrote to tell me how spot on the information included inside was.
The award, frankly, was just the icing on the cake. There are wonderful books out there that never receive any accolade whatsoever. But if you’re in the right place at the right time and get lucky, it can happen.
The real reward for research and banging on the keyboard for months and months, was hearing from people who lived the life I wrote about. They were appreciative I’d gotten things right, that I didn’t confuse the reader with misinformation. While I didn’t overload the story with facts, when I did relay something, I tried to keep it real.
Being a fiction writer can often be like walking a tightrope, But I come from a circus background, my parents being performers at Ringling Brothers Circus back in its heyday.
Whoops! Did I just give a clue as to my real age? Well, rats.
Ladies of Mystery 