Bill Conrad's Blog - Posts Tagged "psychology"
The Lies We Tell
A big part of our minds seems to contain a built-in lie generator. The basic core of this mechanism makes our days go better. “Hey, Sam, what did you do last night?” “I went to a restaurant with some friends.” Sam actually sat at home and watched television. Sam lied to feel better about his life and the lie gave him something to talk about. When further questioned, Sam invented more lies about the events that occurred at the restaurant including the girl he met. Soon, Sam has created an entire fictitious backstory. Is that bad? Probably. It made Sam feel better, and it entertained the person he spoke with.
Of course, there are consequences to Sam’s lie. Sam now has to remember the lie, and this does not come naturally because the event never happened. Sam’s friends might find out about the lie and get angry for being included in the lie. The lie will continue to spread and entangle his life.
Is Sam proud of his lie? At first, he enjoyed lying was and now he regrets it. Is Sam going to lie next week about a different restaurant? Perhaps.
There is another class of liar. The people that truly believe the lie. For example, the flat earth believers. They use any means to keep the lie alive including deception, corruption, and even physical violence. One could explain this class of people with psychology and other mental issues. However, at their core, these people know the lie is a lie and yet, they still believe.
Where did all this lying start? As a child, we don’t have a lot going on in our lives. Our parents made all the decisions, and we were along for the ride. We obtained freedom on the playground. There, we met our friends and together, we embellished the truth. Perhaps we did it to rebel or perhaps to entertain our friends. Lying is a skill and we get better with age. Most people grow out of bold lying and limit their half-truths to a minimum. Some people embrace lying and take it to impressive levels. Con artists for example.
Are fiction writers liars? In a way, they are. The majority of them put a disclaimer at the beginning of their work to indicate their fictitious status. However, some go out of their way to fool people and others cannot tell the difference.
It’s easy to write a lie. “Sam decided to tell his friend that he went to a restaurant.” The reader, of course, knows that he stayed home. The reader does not have to be set up as they all can relate to lying. This is because they know what it feels like to deceive for the purposes of feeling better about themselves.
It’s also easy to write fiction with the full awareness of deceiving the reader. “The vampire walked into the room.” There have never been vampires and there never will be. However, that simple statement didn’t anger anybody. Readers know there are no vampires and that lie instantly became acceptable. Now, if I walked up to you (being fully honest) and said a vampire had just been here, then you would clearly know that I had lied to you. My lie wouldn’t be acceptable and there would be consequences.
Is it ethical to be a fiction writer? Or are they simply liars? I suppose the ethical questions can be answered in how the work is presented. If a writer fully acknowledges the fictitious aspect and they don’t pass their work off as real, then they are ethical people.
Of course, we still want to believe the lie. For example, the early rocket pioneers dreamed of going to space just like their comic books.
What about me? Of course, I am guilty of lying to others and myself. I regret any harm that may have come from my lies. However, I fully acknowledge that my mind contains a fantasy world and I use this material to write. I enjoy my fantasy as it keeps me entertained. I would like to think I have come up with some creative plots as a result.
In my opinion, I keep my lies in check and I do my best to be an honest person. Or am I lying now? Hard to say because the thing that invents the lies is telling me not to lie about lying. There is one thing I do know for certain. I’ll never tell.
Of course, there are consequences to Sam’s lie. Sam now has to remember the lie, and this does not come naturally because the event never happened. Sam’s friends might find out about the lie and get angry for being included in the lie. The lie will continue to spread and entangle his life.
Is Sam proud of his lie? At first, he enjoyed lying was and now he regrets it. Is Sam going to lie next week about a different restaurant? Perhaps.
There is another class of liar. The people that truly believe the lie. For example, the flat earth believers. They use any means to keep the lie alive including deception, corruption, and even physical violence. One could explain this class of people with psychology and other mental issues. However, at their core, these people know the lie is a lie and yet, they still believe.
Where did all this lying start? As a child, we don’t have a lot going on in our lives. Our parents made all the decisions, and we were along for the ride. We obtained freedom on the playground. There, we met our friends and together, we embellished the truth. Perhaps we did it to rebel or perhaps to entertain our friends. Lying is a skill and we get better with age. Most people grow out of bold lying and limit their half-truths to a minimum. Some people embrace lying and take it to impressive levels. Con artists for example.
Are fiction writers liars? In a way, they are. The majority of them put a disclaimer at the beginning of their work to indicate their fictitious status. However, some go out of their way to fool people and others cannot tell the difference.
It’s easy to write a lie. “Sam decided to tell his friend that he went to a restaurant.” The reader, of course, knows that he stayed home. The reader does not have to be set up as they all can relate to lying. This is because they know what it feels like to deceive for the purposes of feeling better about themselves.
It’s also easy to write fiction with the full awareness of deceiving the reader. “The vampire walked into the room.” There have never been vampires and there never will be. However, that simple statement didn’t anger anybody. Readers know there are no vampires and that lie instantly became acceptable. Now, if I walked up to you (being fully honest) and said a vampire had just been here, then you would clearly know that I had lied to you. My lie wouldn’t be acceptable and there would be consequences.
Is it ethical to be a fiction writer? Or are they simply liars? I suppose the ethical questions can be answered in how the work is presented. If a writer fully acknowledges the fictitious aspect and they don’t pass their work off as real, then they are ethical people.
Of course, we still want to believe the lie. For example, the early rocket pioneers dreamed of going to space just like their comic books.
What about me? Of course, I am guilty of lying to others and myself. I regret any harm that may have come from my lies. However, I fully acknowledge that my mind contains a fantasy world and I use this material to write. I enjoy my fantasy as it keeps me entertained. I would like to think I have come up with some creative plots as a result.
In my opinion, I keep my lies in check and I do my best to be an honest person. Or am I lying now? Hard to say because the thing that invents the lies is telling me not to lie about lying. There is one thing I do know for certain. I’ll never tell.
Living Rent Free in My Head
Six months ago, I got into a big argument with my mother. She did something stupid with her computer that was against my repeated sound advice. (I am her full time IT support.) When confronted, my mother refused to take responsibility, and the argument has simmered since that day. Of course, we all have our little parental tiffs and that is a part of life.
Since the initial incident, my anger has faded into a minor annoyance, but recently, there was an unexpected wrinkle. I was watching a rerun of the television show The Big Bang. The actor/character, Will Wheaton, did something that angered the character, Sheldon. He became furious and fumed over the incident. When Will realized, he was getting to Sheldon, he pointed to Sheldon’s head and said, “I am living rent free, right here.”
The moment felt like a lightning bolt and I realized I had been allowing my mother’s mistake to get to me. In reality, this incident was her doing, and the result had no effect on me. Yet, my anger still consumed me.
After making the connection, I understood it was possible to release the hold that anger had taken. I felt so much better.
Thinking back on my life, there were many incidents that I fumed over for years. The anger ate my soul, consumed time, and reduced my happiness. I wish I had made the connection when I was ten years old.
But… What about a character? Can their minds have somebody living rent free? “Bill got mad and brooded for months.” “Bill never let the argument go.” “A year later, Bill was still mad.” These statements seem valid, but they are missing the continuing motivation to be angry, and it seems strange that the character cannot let the incident go.
I have learned the hard way that unexplained motivation is reading death. Readers get hung up by this flaw and leave nasty reviews. What can writers do? They must develop an apparent reason for the anger and resolve the situation. “Bill was mad because his mother broke their computer by installing a program from a scam email. A month later, she promised never to do this again. He forgave her, and she offered to take him to dinner.” Easy, logical, closed-loop, and no motivation issues. (I wish real life worked this way.)
Finding areas in our lives to improve upon is terrific, and hopefully, this is the last time somebody will live rent free in my head.
You’re the best -Bill
November 22, 2023
Since the initial incident, my anger has faded into a minor annoyance, but recently, there was an unexpected wrinkle. I was watching a rerun of the television show The Big Bang. The actor/character, Will Wheaton, did something that angered the character, Sheldon. He became furious and fumed over the incident. When Will realized, he was getting to Sheldon, he pointed to Sheldon’s head and said, “I am living rent free, right here.”
The moment felt like a lightning bolt and I realized I had been allowing my mother’s mistake to get to me. In reality, this incident was her doing, and the result had no effect on me. Yet, my anger still consumed me.
After making the connection, I understood it was possible to release the hold that anger had taken. I felt so much better.
Thinking back on my life, there were many incidents that I fumed over for years. The anger ate my soul, consumed time, and reduced my happiness. I wish I had made the connection when I was ten years old.
But… What about a character? Can their minds have somebody living rent free? “Bill got mad and brooded for months.” “Bill never let the argument go.” “A year later, Bill was still mad.” These statements seem valid, but they are missing the continuing motivation to be angry, and it seems strange that the character cannot let the incident go.
I have learned the hard way that unexplained motivation is reading death. Readers get hung up by this flaw and leave nasty reviews. What can writers do? They must develop an apparent reason for the anger and resolve the situation. “Bill was mad because his mother broke their computer by installing a program from a scam email. A month later, she promised never to do this again. He forgave her, and she offered to take him to dinner.” Easy, logical, closed-loop, and no motivation issues. (I wish real life worked this way.)
Finding areas in our lives to improve upon is terrific, and hopefully, this is the last time somebody will live rent free in my head.
You’re the best -Bill
November 22, 2023
