I was always a
listener. As a child I would sit quietly among grown-ups as they wove narrative
yarns of times past. I have vivid memories of Christmases, Thanksgivings,
Easters, barbeques (I live in the South after all), and birthdays where family
folk gathered around and began, as usual, to reminisce. This was admittedly my
favorite part of any get-together, and I suspect it was the favorite of the
adults as well.
All that
listening has proved invaluable. You see, when I go digging for ideas, I don’t
have to look much further than my own family. The files in my brain are stuffed
with stories. When I’m developing characters, I draw
from accounts of family members who are long gone, many of whom I never
knew, but most of whom I feel I did. And so, when I began brainstorming ideas
for a middle grade novel, I didn’t head straight to the library or scour the
internet (that came later). Nope. I simply sat back and let the family stories
resurface.
This is my
paternal grandmother, my Nana:
![]() |
| Circa 1936 |
She was my
inspiration for Lizzie Hawkins, the strong and determined main character in
Every Day After. As Nana once did, Lizzie must overcome the trials of the
Great Depression, she must come to terms with the high expectations her father
has of her, and she must be a responsible caretaker. Lizzie also prefers to
hang out with boys rather than girls, likes being the center of attention, and
has no problem telling you what she thinks. There is no doubt that Lizzie is
like Nana.
But Lizzie’s life
is not Nana’s. As I wrote, Lizzie took over and slowly developed a story of her
own. She transformed into a unique person living inside the world of my book.
Nana never had to bear the burden of scrounging up enough money
to pay the mortgage, or wake up to discover her father had left as
Lizzie does. And that’s okay. In writing Every Day After I hoped to pay
tribute to the life experiences of my grandmother, but the novel wouldn’t have
worked as a retelling of her life verbatim. And after all, I didn’t want to
write a biography, I wanted to write a middle grade novel. So I took Nana’s
life and I lied about it.
I think author
Wally Lamb best expresses what I’m trying to say in this quote taken from Mary
Murphy’s documentary Hey, Boo: Harper Lee & TO KILL A MOCKINGBIRD:
“You start with
who you know and what you know. You take a survey of the lay of the land that
formed you and shaped you, and then you begin to lie about it. You tell one lie
that turns into a different lie, and after a while those models sort of lift
off and become their own people rather than the people you originally thought
of. And when you weave an entire network of lies, what you’re really doing, if
you’re aiming to write literary fiction, is by telling lies, you’re trying to
arrive at a deeper truth.”
I love that. And
I believe it. By giving myself permission to lie, by freeing myself from
the obligation to get every detail of Nana’s life exact, I have uncovered a
more meaningful truth. Isn’t that any author’s goal when they sit down in front
of the keyboard to write—to develop characters and a story possessing depth and
significance? To create a story with value?
In writing Every
Day After, I found that the ideas and inspirations that set one’s story on
a course toward existence are simply the beginning. You don’t stop there. You
press onward. You ask hard questions; you force yourself to search beyond what
you know; you teach yourself to cull from life the things your story needs to
reach its highest potential. And then you leave everything else behind. Ideas
and inspirations are merely sparks. The lies you tell are the fuel you need to
make fire. A writer should always listen…then lie.
My Nana is gone
now, but a part of her lives on in a fictional twelve-year-old named Lizzie
Hawkins. That makes me all warm and fuzzy inside. About a year before she passed
away a family member asked Nana why she had no interest in taking part in
something-or-other. I honestly don’t recall what the something-or-other was,
but I do recall her reply: “I’ve lived my life,” she said. “My story has
already been written.”
And so
it has. Twice. Once in life, once in a book—both in different ways true.
Laura
Golden is the author of EVERY DAY AFTER, a middle grade novel about a young girl
learning to let go and find her own way amidst the trials of the Great
Depression. It is set to release from Delacorte Press/RHCB on June
11, 2013. You can find out more about Laura and EVERY DAY AFTER by
visiting her website or
following her on Twitter
and Facebook. Also, feel free to add EVERY DAY AFTER to your Goodreads
reading list.

I love this post -- both your musings about your grandmother and the quote from Wally Lamb. Thank you! Now I'm off to tell some lies...
ReplyDeleteLOL! Thank you, Anne. :-)
ReplyDeleteI love that Wally Lamb quote too, and that picture of your Nana is wonderful. I can see her personality, just in the picture itself.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Elisabeth! I've considered printing out Wally Lamb's quote and putting it on the wall in front of my desk. Love it! And, yes, Nana had *quite* a personality. ;-)
ReplyDeleteI am halfway through the ARC of Every Day After that you sent me, and I'm completely in love with it. (And can't wait to spread the word about it!) Reading this post in that light was fascinating. I love how you express the importance of straying from the facts to get to the deeper truth.
ReplyDeleteAwww! Thank you so much, Faith. Your words made my heart go pitter-pat. Regarding lies...we tell our kids not to do it, and then we do! (In stories anyway.) ;-)
ReplyDeleteFamily is a wonderful source of inspiration. Glad you found such a nice way to honor your Nana.
ReplyDelete