Every piece of fiction I write here is a true story.
I know that seems contradictory so let me explain. Every story I write is based on some true thing that happened to me, where I have taken the event apart, spliced it with some other true event and then rewrapped with some other real event with the names, places, timeline and outcome changed to protect the innocent. The final product is a story that didn’t actually happen the way that I wrote it but it did happen.
Like when a character climaxes in one of my stories, that actually happened. Or maybe I wish it happened. Or maybe when I was masturbating about, I wanted it to happen that way. Or maybe a friend of mine was telling me about their climax and it happened just that way.
To me it is all equal. What happened was real. I was there, I saw it, and it affected me. Or if it happened to someone else and they tell me about it, it becomes real to me as they speak of the passion of the moment. The fact that write it so that it happens to characters that don’t exist or has a different outcome doesn’t make it any less real.
When I masturbate to something, it is very real. It is getting me off. It’s making my breath catch and in the heat of masturbation, that image, or character or sex act, is the hottest thing in the world. I don’t know how a blowjob from my neighbor would feel, but I know how I want it to feel and that truth is just as important.
It’s strange. When I first started writing I used complete fiction. I wrote stories that I thought people would want to read. They sucked. It wasn’t till I was more honest that I wrote stories worth reading. It’s when I used characters based on real people, or characters who had motives like real people I knew that my stories really started to connect to readers. It wasn’t till I wrote about stories I honestly wanted to happen that I had stories that honestly needed to be told. It wasn’t till I took my experience, my readings and my conversations and folded them over each other like scrambled eggs that I had stories worthy of being devoured.
The secret to writing fiction is to write the truth.