Is It Okay to Stretch the Truth as a Writer?

From the ages of 10 to 15 years old, I was so fearful of telling a lie that I hedged every statement with qualifying statements like “maybe” or “I think” to protect against the slim chance I was mistaken.

I was horrified at the prospect of telling a lie, and so I over-indexed on the truth. I viewed everything as black-and-white: If what I said wasn’t 100% true, it was a lie.

My world shattered when I realized that my favorite storytellers were loose with the truth. I recognized that some of my relatives and friends had a knack for telling stories in a way that captivated their audience, yet flirted with the edges of reality.

I wondered: Were their stories good because they fudged the truth? Is it OK to distort reality to elicit laughs or craft a better story?

As I pondered those questions, gray oozed into my world. Black and white became dusty and distorted.

Lately, I’ve been thinking about those questions more than ever because they impact my life as a writer and storyteller:

• If I don’t remember the specifics of an event, can I color in the details to the best of my memory?
• If I don’t remember the exact words someone said to me, can I paraphrase?
• If I have run into a similar situation several times, can I mesh those experiences into a single story that amalgamates what happened?

I’m shocked that I haven’t seen more stories about this dark side of storytelling. Perhaps that’s because we writers feel that if we write about this topic, others will question our work and our integrity. (I’m worried about that.)

Let’s explore two stories to see where writers obfuscate reality, and then we can discuss whether we agree or disagree with those writers’ choices.

The first example comes from the HBO miniseries “Chernobyl,” and the second comes from Greg Mortensen and David Oliver Relin’s book “Three Cups of Tea.”

Stretching the Truth: HBO’s “Chernobyl” Miniseries

Like thousands of other viewers, I was blown away by the brilliant storytelling in “Chernobyl.” The series portrays the tragic events of the 1986 Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant disaster. The Soviet Union downplays the significance of the catastrophe, which causes unnecessary deaths and radioactive contamination near the power plant.

Chemist Valery Legasov and nuclear physicist Ulana Khomyuk investigate the disaster and challenge the Soviet Union to take responsibility and increase security.

As it turns out, Khomyuk is not a real person. HBO’s writers decided to create Khomyuk’s character to represent dozens of scientists, as described in the closing credits of “Chernobyl’s” finale:

“Legasov was aided by dozens of scientists who worked tirelessly alongside him at Chernobyl. Some spoke out against the official account of events and were subject to denunciation, arrest and imprisonment. The character of Ulana Khomyuk was created to represent them all and to honor their dedication and service to truth and humanity.”

It seems that HBO’s writers decided it would be too confusing to include dozens of scientists in the miniseries, and so they created one character to represent the scientific community. They sacrificed accuracy for simplicity.

Stretching the Truth: “Three Cups of Tea” Book

In 2007, Greg Mortensen and David Oliver Relin published the book “Three Cups of Tea.” Powered by the book’s inspirational story of Mortensen’s transition from mountain-climber to global humanitarian, the book remained on The New York Times bestseller list for four years.

In the book, Mortensen describes how he stumbled into a small village named Korphe after a failed attempt to scale K2 (the second-highest mountain in the world). The villagers take care of Mortensen, and to repay their kindness, he promises to return to build them a school. After a remarkable journey that includes getting captured by the Taliban, Mortensen goes on to co-found the international non-profit Central Asia Institute (CAI), through which he builds schools in Korphe and other under-resourced communities.

However, those events didn’t really happen — at least not the way Mortensen described. In 2011, CBS News’ “60 Minutes” and bestselling author Jon Krakauer reported that Mortensen and Relin doctored numerous parts of the story, including the following:

• Mortensen didn’t stumble into Korphe after trying to climb K2. He went there a year later.
• The Taliban didn’t capture Mortensen.
• CAI did indeed build schools in Korphe and other locations. However, Mortensen also squirreled away $1.7 million from CAI to pay for “book-related expenses,” such as promoting his book.

Many have come to Mortensen’s defense, including Pulitzer Prize-winning journalist Nicholas Kristof. Mortensen has indeed done incredible things, including providing educational opportunities to young children in underprivileged areas, but his work was fueled by an engine of lies.

Personally, I agree with HBO’s decision but I’m repulsed by what Mortensen did. HBO stayed true to the story with the changes they made, whereas Mortensen did not. HBO simplified, whereas Mortensen lied. HBO made it easier for viewers to understand the truth, whereas Mortensen made it harder for his readers to understand the truth.

How do you feel about this? Is stretching the truth ever okay? And if it is, how can we ensure we don’t go too far?

Three Guidelines to Consider

We can use the following three guidelines to tell compelling stories while remaining honest, ethical, and fair.

1. Stay true to the arc of the story

There’s an enormous difference between simplifying complexity (like what HBO did) and inventing something that didn’t happen (like what Mortensen did).

We must be truthful in the way we tell the story. It’s okay if we don’t remember 100% of the details, but we must remain faithful to the story arc. As one of my mentors said recently, “You lose credibility for all time if you create a falsehood.” Don’t destroy your writing career and implode your self-respect by lying about something.

2. Stay true to your people and characters

Niklas Göke recently distilled 50 lessons from Aaron Sorkin’s MasterClass on screenwriting. Göke summarizes Sorkin’s thoughts about when it’s okay to stretch the truth:

“What’s the more important truth? If you’re re-telling a real story or rely on nuts and bolts research a lot, you’ll find the truth won’t always do it. Sometimes, it’s not poignant enough. Punchy enough. Ironic enough. So when can you twist it? Sorkin suggests you ask if the lie feels unfair. Do you rob the reader of something with your lie? Or do you give them something? Only change the truths that don’t matter. Maybe, the killer drank beer, but vodka better reflects her feelings. Which one do we care more about? Listen to your gut, and you’ll know which details to change.” -Niklas Göke

Sorkin has written the screenplays for several blockbuster movies based upon real events, such as “Moneyball,” “The Social Network,” “Molly’s Game,” and “Steve Jobs.” You can find instances in every one of those movies of Sorkin changing elements of the story. But the big question is: Did he change the substance of the story?

Each writer will have a different level of comfort with how much artistic license to take with a story. Regardless of where you fall on that spectrum, you must be honest and follow your conscience. Depending upon the situation, it may be okay to enhance reality, but it’s never permissible to distort it.

3. Truth matters in fiction as well. Invent from real experience

“Invention is the finest thing but you cannot invent anything that would not actually happen. That is what we are supposed to do when we are at our best — make it all up — but make it up so truly that later it will happen that way.” — Ernest Hemingway

It’s easy to see why truth is necessary in nonfiction, but it also matters in fiction. Only by tapping into something true can novelists build a world that resonates with readers.

Author Annie Weatherwax put it best:

“The purpose of art is not to depict reality — it is to transform reality into something more interesting and meaningful. And the only way to do this is to distort, exaggerate, or in some way embellish what is there…

When I write a scene, I distort reality as a painter does. I decide first how I want my world to be understood. What is it that I want my readers to feel and see clearly? Then I’ll look around at my setting and ask myself: What’s here that I can use? If there is light coming in the room, I’ll accentuate it to set the mood. If there’s a couch, I might heighten my readers awareness of how it’s worn. And I will study my characters’ faces. Is there a specific feature I can exaggerate to make the reader understand who they are more clearly? And how can I dramatize or embellish what my characters do and say? I will pick and choose and manipulate the essential elements of my scene until I’ve reshaped reality into a new form, one that holds together and sheds an unexpected light.” -Annie Weatherwax

To become a writer, you must become a storyteller. Telling compelling stories sometimes requires sacrificing accuracy to gain simplicity or understanding. Make those tradeoffs with discernment and integrity.

Depending upon the situation, it may be okay to enhance reality, but it’s never permissible to distort it.

When you must supply additional details, do so in a way that amplifies the truth rather than obscures it.

Stay true to the story. Stay true to the characters. And above all, follow your conscience. Don’t sell your reputation for a few additional dollars or clicks.