Some authors like to say that they are professional liars because they make up stories. While this is somewhat humorous, I don’t like the implications.
In this world where politicians and professionals lie daily about important, sometimes life-threatening or life-altering matters, and with zero remorse or conscience, I don’t care to have my craft lumped in with that festering pile of rot.
What we fiction writers do (the vast majority anyway) is inspire and heal. At the very least, we entertain. And yes, sometimes we may disappoint. But when we do, no one’s livelihood is at stake, no one’s freedom is taken away.
I am no liar. I tell truths under the guise of fantasy. I create worlds to escape in. I imagine things that might breathe life into an otherwise dreary day.
When you read a novel, you know it is fiction. This is storytelling. This is eternal. Lying is deception. There is a vast gulf between the two. I would even argue that they are opposites.
Lying destroys families, divides nations, and shatters friendships.
Storytelling brings people together, heals broken hearts, and inspires higher thinking.
I am no liar.
I am a storyteller.
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