Why Writers Need to be Accurate, Even If They're Making It Up

I've been reading JL Carrell's The Shakespeare Secret and debating whether I can be bothered to finish it. I don't like slagging off other authors - whatever you may think of the writing/story telling, it took the author's time, effort and energy - but this is a book that lost my attention pretty early on for a very simple and fixable reason.

The story's main character is a Shakespearean expert on the hunt for a 'lost' Shakespeare play, so I started with every expectation of enjoyment. But within the first few pages the expert quotes "All that glitters is not gold." Without irony. Without any other qualification. I checked again - yup, that was being presented as a direct quote. A few pages later it was quoted again - it had now become a clue in the mystery.

I did a quick poll among my friends. All but one knew that there was something wrong with the quote, and one could say that the correct quote is "All that glisters is not gold." It's one of those famous misquotes, like "Play it again, Sam". A character, who is supposed to be a Shakespearean expert, in fact the whole story starts from the premise that she's the only person who can unravel the mystery because of her expertise, and she doesn't recognise that the quote is wrong?

The trick in writing is to weave fact and fiction together seamlessly, but in order to swallow the fiction, the fact must be accurate. And if it isn't? The reader can't trust the author on anything, and if you can't trust the author then there's no point in reading on.

Full Moons and Fibs

Last night there was the most wonderful full moon. It lit up the whole street more vividly than a street lamp when I was taking the dog for his last stroll around the block. I wrote about such a moon in Kissing Mr Wrong, a scene when Lu, my main character, was making some momentous decisions (and coincidentally also taking the dog for a wee).

After I finish writing the first draft I work out the dates and make sure that weekends and bank holidays are in the right place and so on. I checked the state of the moon on the date. Oops. No full moon, in fact there would be only a tiny sliver to hang in the sky. Three choices: change the date, change the moon, fib.

Readers, I decided to fib.

Yes, I have deliberately and in cold blood put in an incorrect fact. I am sorry, but I really couldn't change the date, and having such a round, shining, glorious moon in this crucial scene was important. I try to be reliable with the facts - if I say it's the 76 bus for the Protestant cemetery in Rome then it is - but this time my standards have been lowered. Will anyone notice, or care? Will I be accosted at lit fests with angry readers clutching lunar calendars and demanding their money back? Somehow I doubt it. But even if no one else notices, I know, and it tugs at my conscience like a healing scab.

(Though not enough to change it...)

At Chipping Sodbury Library tonight at 7.30pm, ready to be accosted by angry readers clutching lunar calendars.