Last night I had a massive production meeting with the self, as one does when the second guessing is eighth guessing, and the notes have piled up to ridiculous levels. “Self,” said I, ” Quit dicking around! Get these seven plot-hole-filla scenes done, and fiiiiniiiiish the draaaaafffft.”
My WIP is a story about a family and their goings-on, particularly their friendship with a semi-famous, real person of the time.
The family is based on a real family. I have changed names, settings, smooshed multiple characters into one, shuffled around births and marriages and deaths (Actually, I kept a couple of the family members’ first names because they were cool-ass names. Is that bad?) The friend in question was a real dude who died about 110 years ago. I’ve kept his name, and I’ve tried to stick to the facts as they are known and his character as it was described by his contemporaries…
This morning I was doing a last-minute fact check for one of the settings. Instead of checking quickly and then actually writing, I then went back to a family-geneaology/history site I had used in my initial research and found it had been updated. With pictures. With the real life edition of the backgrounds I had created for ‘my’characters.
And now I am full of the doubt.
I’m going to keep on keeping on. I’m going to learn my lesson and NOT dick around on the interwebs when I’m supposed to be writing.
Today’s discovery just drove home any latent worries I’ve had about my story and myself, beyond the usual ‘does this suck?’
Am I creepy? Does this count as creeping out on these people?
Is this so super lazy that I am in fact… not writing?
Feel free to weigh in on the ‘real people in made up stories’*. I’m interested in all takes, all opinions**.
**…but I might just say ‘lalala I can’t hear you’ and do what I was gonna do anyway.
* I’m not worried about libel/defamation/ legalities. It’s not that kind of an issue or story.