You should lie more

Finding the truth by bending it

But in that moment, it felt serious. Like I had crossed some invisible line I didn't even know was there.

Like I had broken the rules of writing somehow. The ones that say ‘nonfiction’ has to mean factual, forensic, and complete. No exceptions.

And I worried that even a small slip in precision would mean that my whole essay was fake. That I was fake.

Maybe it was the first time I had taken more creative liberty than I was used to. Maybe I had lost sight of why I was writing in the first place.

I don't know.

Panic

Editing was always the hardest part of writing for me. Full of tense, frustrating emotions. But never these ones. Embarrassment? Guilt? Why were they suddenly part of the process?

I was halfway through writing a previous essay when I caught myself distorting the facts. Embellishing some parts, skipping others, molding and shaping the story so it would fit the point I wanted to get across.

And suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I was still telling the truth at all.

Wait a minute, I’m not a fiction writer. Can I do this? Is this allowed? Shouldn’t I be sticking to the facts, the whole facts, and nothing but the facts.

Purpose

Sitting with that fear for a minute, I noticed it slowly beginning to soften.

As it did, I started to remember why I write in the first place.

I’m not a scientific researcher. I’m not a record-keeper. I don’t write to capture every single fact exactly as it happened.

The writing process pushes me to articulate what I care about and what I really mean, and to express both as clearly as I can.

This is never simple or straightforward. But if I change a detail or reshape a story, it’s not to make things easier, it’s to get closer to what feels true.

Truth isn’t in the details. It’s in the meaning they help reveal.

The point

I almost threw out the whole essay, because for a second, I didn’t trust myself.

That would’ve been the easy way out: abandoning the search for what felt true, and clinging to the comfort of being technically right.

Trying to make a point while discovering what that point even is (i.e. writing essays) is hard enough, even without worrying about tweaking the truth here or there.

I’m not saying I want to start making up random things and presenting them as facts. I’m saying my loyalty isn’t to forensic accuracy, it’s to searching for the real point I’m trying to make.

Often, that means lying a little. Not to deceive, but to keep the heart of it alive.

Permission

I don’t write essays to report the facts. I write to work things out.

To stay with something long enough that I can see what I really think, and say it as clearly as I can.

When the facts get in the way of what I’m trying to say, I’m okay with bending the truth a little.

This essay’s no exception.