One of my book coaching clients has written about her past adversities, some of which have to do with family dysfunction. She’s understandably concerned that current family members will be angry, feeling she shouldn’t have aired dirty linens in public. Some may also be in long-term denial about the events described.
Whether to be honest and therefore vulnerable to backlash or to placate her family and soften her descriptions was a worrisome decision for her. Both she and her therapist felt that her painful honesty in writing had been cathartic – no more couching the truth in pretty words. Just the facts, mam. Or hiding behind the classic “but everything is fine now,” dancing the practiced dance of the co-enabler.
We resolved the problem in a way that feels right to her. Sparks may still fly when the book comes out, but she's forestalled specific arguments by stating on the back of the title page that what she wrote is her truth as she remembers it, and that others may remember things differently.
Writing, especially when we deal with personal experience, has to be what we see as truth. It seems to me like anything else would dishonor both the readers and the author.
If we can’t do that, we should avoid controversial material and write only what is comfortable for family, friends, and the rest of the known world.
~ Linda
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