writermag.com • The Writer | 13considered a perfect fit for the novel’s
mood. But as I pushed through the
first several thousand words, I saw the
cracks in what I knew. There was no
way I could build a realistic world
around a place I’d only traversed as a
one-time tourist. The resulting product
would be inauthentic or, worse, offen-
sive to true San Antonians.
I trashed the setting and uprooted
my characters to my hometown:
Columbia, Missouri. Except I was
soon presented with another problem.
The magical realism of my book, and
the nefarious secrets hidden in the set-
ting’s restaurants and small businesses,
didn’t seem accurate to my true vision
of Columbia. I didn’t want readers
thinking I looked upon my birthplace
with derision or despair. True, I have
critiques of the college town I call
home, but, in the context of the book,
they came out more scathing than
soul-searching.
Finally, it was time for Plan C: A fic-
tional setting. I’d create a college town
in Missouri, but one with details that
differed from Columbia. I’d draw from
memories and beloved childhood
landmarks to make this place authentic
to the area, but the feel of the town and
its distinguishing features would be all
their own.
As straightforward as it might seem,
fictionalizing is a messy business. You
start with something real, then infuse
it with the un-real, but leave behind
enough bits of the real to convince
readers you’re as close to real as the un-
real gets. Still with me?
The process only gets more compli-
cated when you fictionalize somethingBut wait. What if this were home: A
main street called Littleton rather than
Broadway. An indie bakery hidden not
inside a theater but, perhaps, inside a
museum. Or, consider this: Columbia
underwent a seismic controversy over
race on the University of
Missouri campus in 2015,
but what if, instead, a
debate around identity
had sparked in 2020, dur-
ing the re-election campaign
of Donald Trump?
I wouldn’t be writing about Colum-
bia, no. Not the real one, anyway. But it’d
be something like Columbia – a fiction-
alized version tweaked to fit a different
world, one tailor-made for a novel.
This is the conundrum I faced
when I started revising my first book, a
draft I’m still rewriting, recreating, and
rethinking every day. I originally
started by placing my characters in San
Antonio, a city I’d visited once andT
his is home: the scratch of dewy grass, barely
alive after the heat of summer, still sharp and
squelching from morning and evening sprinkler
sessions. Roads and hills rise and fall like unsteady
breaths. In Columbia, Missouri, a short drive from
the Missouri River, the short downtown strip of Broadway is
dissected by stoplights, which the college students love to
jaywalk after a cheap pitcher at one of several storied sports
bars. Faurot Field, the football stadium, is typically holy
ground this time of year, though lately the team’s struggled to
fill seats. There’s a steakhouse gem in a strip mall and an
indie bakery stuffed inside the arthouse cinema. This is home,
my indefinable home, one of those mid-size Midwestern
towns not always at ease with its own identity.
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