Truth and Fiction

Something that I've believed for a long time now is that you're never too old for new experiences. I don't care if you manage to live to be a thousand, if you think you've seen it all, I suspect that most of what you're seeing is sand from the patch where you've stuck you head in it.

This relates to my chosen trade because it means that there's always more fodder for the next story out there. Getting inspired is a separate matter, yes. But there's always new material out there.

One of the stumbling blocks to tapping this vast resource is that truth (real life) isn't just stranger than fiction, it's only partially connected to it. The connection is primal, and strong, but it isn't all that wide. Fiction is clearer and cleaner than life will ever be, which is part of its appeal. Life is what we live, and it is not, nor has it ever been, simple and easy to orient a compass in. One of the reasons I have yet to like a true crime book that I've read is because people aren't characters, and to make them fit into that finely-cast mold you've got to skew some facts and throw others out the window. A look at which facts get chosen for which treatment usually reveals the writer's 'fingerprints,' their own feelings and prejudices, which don't belong in a book that's supposed to be giving us a slice of real life. The people who can't differentiate between where fiction and truth connect and where they don't often end up as the subjects of those true crime books, either as criminals or victims.

I spent this past weekend up in Dallas, at AnimeFest. My wife went up Thursday and I took a bus Saturday because I couldn't get the time off and because I needed at least one full night of sleep. Saturday night, after helping at the Pan-Gaia Designs booth until the dealer's room closed, I was a bit restless so I went down to the hotel bar for a beer. It turned out to be a sports bar, which is not normally my preferred place to spend time, but they had Shiner Bock on draft. (Well, they did until I drank the last of it)

I'm sitting at one of the counter tables near the bar itself, sipping my beer and reading an e-book, when two attractive young ladies walk in. Now, there's no shortage of attractive young ladies at an anime convention, but while I don't like stereotyping anyone, most young ladies do fit into certain patterns. Most are in costume to one degree or another, or in comfy, casual clothes. They travel in groups or with their significant others, as sadly there's no shortage of asshats at an anime con either. If they wear jewelry, it's simple, or something related to their favorite show or game. They also have an abundance of happy enthusiasm, if they haven't just crossed paths with an asshat.

The two ladies who came in weren't wearing con badges, they were dressed up nicely, and wore a bit more jewelry than is normal. They came in as a pair, and when they stepped into the bar they scanned the room. Not with the sort of look that someone has when they're trying to locate a familiar face, with the look you have when you're sizing up an opponent. They grabbed a menu from the bar, and sat next to me.

Now I like to think I'm good shape, but I'm in good shape for someone who's lived my life and has reached middle age. Unless there's a reason, I don't dress to impress. I dress for comfort. I had my e-book reader with me, but I don't think that these days that's an indicator that the owner has a lot of money. Have I also mentioned that the oldest I would put these two is in their mid-twenties?

The one closest to me smiles, holding up the drink menu, and asks if there's anything I could recommend. I ask if she likes beer or mixed drinks, and she just smiles shyly and says that she's a lightweight. Her friend, sitting on the other side of Miss Lightweight, leans forward and studies me with a serious look. If I was writing the scene, I'd describe the look as hard and calculating.

I say to the girl near me that she might try one of the beers, recommending Shiner. She smiles again, and asks me what I'm doing here. I change hands with my book so my wedding ring happens to show and say that I'm here at the convention helping my wife, who has a booth in the dealer's room.

Her smile changes to a polite one, and she turns away to confer over the menu with her friend. They catch a waiter as he walks by, ordering some nachos. Then they get up, and a few minutes later are seated at a table with two guys, and everyone's smiling.

I couldn't tell you just when in that chain of events that it dawned on me I was talking with, as Terry Pratchett put it, Ladies of Negotiable Affection, but the experience was a surreal one. Everyone has to make a living, and I don't place those ladies higher or lower on the 'scale of worth' than I would anyone else that I don't really know. But I can tell you that until that moment, I would have never written any scene like that. In the world I was living in, it just wouldn't happen. Now I live in a broader one.

Shortly thereafter, the bar ran out of Shiner. I went upstairs, and told the whole thing to Claudia. She laughed.

Still writing.