- Emily Pattullo
- Sep 5, 2023
- 2 min read
Writing a novel about issues such as child trafficking and prostitution is risky, to say the least; but sometimes in order to get a point across you need to tell a story that is so unbelievable it creates the same curiosity that causes people to stand in the path of a tornado. They have to see it, no matter what the consequences, because only then can they truly understand its power.
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But then comes the tricky part. After all, how do you turn real life into real fiction? To start with it has to be believable, which is something, surely, a fiction writer shouldn’t necessarily have to face. Fiction, by definition, is 'literature in the form of prose that describes imaginary events and people'. So how was I to make a made-up story, with fictional characters, seem real enough to invoke the kind of response I wanted, without inviting criticism for being contrived? After all, it’s not just a story, it’s a real thing that happens to real people, so whatever I write has to be, well, real. You see my problem?
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On the other side is my propensity for adventure. I’m a sucker for those thrillers that pull you breathlessly from one scene to the next, never quite allowing you the sweet taste of conclusion. A story that manipulates the realms of possibility to the point that anything goes – there is no reason why that girl can’t leap twenty foot from a balcony, land on a car roof, get to her feet, and run; or swim through shark-infested waters with a severed limb without getting chomped. Because it’s a fictional story and no one cares, as long as the baddies get caught, the hero survives, and they all live happily ever after.
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But that happily-ever-after is a problem for me. Give the reader a happy ending and they get to close the book with their conscience clear. But as a writer who has researched the truth about child trafficking and relived some of the horrors, I don’t think the reader should get off so lightly. I want the story to stay with them long after they have turned out the light.
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So where does that leave me? On the one hand there is the authenticity that accompanies a real-life issue, on the other is the poetic licence afforded a fiction writer. But perhaps putting the two together gives me something truly powerful. A boundless imagination is the gift I possess, but what wraps it in a neat bow and delivers it to the reader is the reality. And this, I hope, is what will pull them into the path of the tornado.
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