It has been said that the narrator of a novel is as much a work of fiction as their characters. But when a novel incorporates memoir and experience, when the author mines their own history for inspiration, does this still hold? Or does the way in which that experience is recast into a story make the author a work of fiction in turn - the ultimate, and inevitable fictional narrator?
It’s an interesting idea, and one that I can relate to. In Stalker I have drawn on my own history and memories for copy, creating a deliberate intersection of fiction and experience.
Arguably, there is no such thing as a truly shared memory or experience in any case, in the same way that no one person sees ‘green’, or responds to a colour or mood, or tastes a plate of food the same way as someone else. One person’s memory of an event is never the same as another’s. It follows that all memories, even shared ones, become by definition a fiction in the act of telling.
A number of readers have asked me what is true and what is not true in Stalker, but in a sense that's irrelevant, since even the most vividly recalled memories have been recast to serve the story’s requirements, not my own.
So yes, my identity as the author should not be confused with my identity as the narrator, because ultimately my narrator is a work of fiction too.
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