We’ve had many long discussions here on the voice of an author and how it is indelibly marked within one’s writing style. While pure fiction does not relate personal episodes of the writer’s life, the experience must exist as a seed within his mind, and creative powers extend and enhance it to become a thing apart; a story loosely based upon a known fact or idea.
One of the problems with reading—and one of the elements that eventually develops out of interest and affinity—is the knowledge of the author’s personal history. Anthologies used as classroom text often give a short author bio, as well as essays upon the readings that include opinions on where the author is coming from. All well and good, but a story must first be read on its own. If it’s well-liked, others from the same author will undoubtedly be sought out. Eventually more about the author will be researched, and a more complete understanding and appreciation of his writings can be formed. The problem in reading the personal history of an author first is in coloring one’s vision of the story as it is being read.
A posting on Zora Neale Hurston’s story below tries to avoid the author—as much as possible since she is writing from a personal background knowledge of Southern life in the early part of the century. But Hurston’s work is beautifully simple in its telling of what her characters face, yet the characters are reflections of human nature common to all and thus easily relatable to by any reader. It’s obvious from the setting that Hurston has a more intimate knowledge of the era and the lifestyle of her characters because of the simple way she produces such powerful imagery, but then, she’s a tremendously creative and skilled author. I don’t need to know much more about Hurston to enjoy her work; but I’ve become intrigued enough by the style to want to know.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
I enjoyed reading your thoughts on this topic. This is something that I think about often. Like most writers, the basic thought behind a story or character is self-biographic. As my preference is to write scifi-fantasy, I often struggle to set the reality of what I’m trying to explore in a plausible fantasy world.
The adage, “write what you know” constantly rings in my head. I wonder if I shouldn’t be attempting fantasy? Is that what’s making it so hard? Perhaps I don’t have whateve it takes to create alien worlds. When I’m speaking in the “here and now” my words flow much better, so I’m contemplating more traditional fiction.
BTW, I really enjoy the changing picture 🙂
I think it has to be a lot tougher to expand knowledge into fantasy. Limitations of reality draws a border that a writer can safely “lie” within, and that alone offers plenty of room to let the imagination run wild. Without that restriction, sure no one can challenge it as factual, but there’s so much more to do to make turn it into an inviting world that readers want to enter. I both envy and sympathize!