Lilacs in July
This is a reposting of a column I originally published on my web site in March 2010. Posted again, for what it’s worth.
One of the little nightmares of writing fiction is that you might get a factual detail or two wrong. Even if you are writing fiction, you need to make it seem real. Getting a key detail wrong can pull the reader right out of your story, chipping away at their suspension of disbelief. Worst case scenario, you might lose your reader entirely.
This is why it’s essential to do research. Question all your assumptions before they’re committed to print. Verify everything you can-even the stuff you’re 99 percent sure is true.
Authors tend to take different approaches to research. Some do exhaustive research before they put words to paper (an approach I can’t seem to completely embrace). They delve into research like a diver plunging into deep water-getting immersed in the factual. Others (like myself) tend to approach research on a more ad hoc, need-to-know basis. I think authors like this get so caught up in the writing and story telling, they’d rather leave all the fact-checking stuff for later.
It’s the latter approach that can get you in trouble, because it’s so easy to assume something is true when it isn’t. A little preventive research could avoid the problem, but you need to be aware that there is a problem first-kind of a conundrum.
There are also mistakes so simple, you look back at them and wonder how you could have missed them.
Someone pointed out such a mistake in my [first] novel. She said she enjoyed the story, but noticed an error: the story referred to lilacs blooming in July (i.e., out of season).
My first thought was, “Lilacs? Where did I mention them? I know I had honeysuckle in there, but lilacs?” After all, even I know that lilacs are spring flowers in Maryland.
To make sure, I did a search in the document. And what do you know? There it was. My protagonist saying that she smelled lilacs, while waiting for someone to answer a door.
My first thought (after “Debbi, you idiot!”) was that I could change it. After all, my novel is in e-book form, which should make changes easy and quick.
But then I thought about how I’d also have to change the print version. I wondered if changing one word-say “lilacs” to “roses”-would create any problems.
Would I need special approval from Lulu.com (the publisher of record)? Would my one-word change end up creating a new edition? I could always ask them, but I was almost afraid to hear their answer. (Assuming I could reach a person at all, but that’s another issue.)
Maybe a one-word change would require re-approval and reentry into Lulu’s distribution system. I’d already waited months to get the book into the system the first time.
Would this also mean I’d need to get a new ISBN? Seemed excessive for simply changing one word, but who knew?
Easy as it would be to change the e-book, changing the print version to match could create a few issues-even as a print-on-demand book, this was true.
I still could inquire with Lulu about this, but I’m not sure I want to go there. Maybe just like authors who have traditional publishers with large print runs, I’ll just learn to live with the mistake.
Besides, my (pathetic) excuse is that Sam’s a city slicker, who wouldn’t know a lilac from a daylily.
Other than that, I take heart in one woman’s advice [Blogger’s note: Sorry, the link to the source is dead gone.] about knitting. She wrote:
“One of the main lessons I absorbed from knitting my first baby sweater (for a friend) is that mistakes are part of the process. Apparently, (grin) there are no perfect knitters out there. We all make mistakes, especially when we try something new. We can’t let the mistakes stop us in our tracks or take away from our enjoyment of the process. Okay, if I was a brain surgeon maybe I’d be more freaked out about making a mistake. Still, I’m one of those people who want my completed projects to be as perfect as possible so I can definitely get tense when mistakes occur. That’s when I remind myself that it’s just knitting. World peace is not at stake. I’m working to let that attitude spill over into other parts of my life as well.”
Sounds like a healthy attitude to me. And it sounds like knitters may have something in common with fiction writers. Both have to deal with holes (plot holes or dropped stitches), tying together loose threads and making a final product that’s well-woven and seamless as possible.
So, maybe it’s rationalization, but I tell myself, “It’s just a novel, not brain surgery. World peace is not at stake.”
Besides, I could do worse than spread the misconception that lilacs bloom in July.
PS: All this concern seems so-o-o very ridiculous now, especially when compared to current events. 🙂
Originally published at http://randomandsundrythings.wordpress.com on October 29, 2021.
