Case for Fiction. Part 0:

Introductory Counterargument

“I never got into reading fiction.” “I can’t imagine spending that much time or effort reading about something which isn’t real.” “Why waste time imagining aliens or magic, things which can’t or don’t exist?” “I don’t want to give people the wrong impressions.” “The park paleo/geo/arche/bi-ologist will be annoyed if you write about this fictional thing or distort this small historic anecdote associated with it.”

Several family members and friends have voiced similar sentiments. And I have heard these opinions also from the people who help with my research for each book. As product of proximity, they are more likely to stumble across this blog. So, I hope that they understand, I’m not writing this with the intention of singling them out. I’m not even, really, interested in attempting to sway anyone’s own reading preference in the debate of fact vs fiction.

However, as an avid fiction reader, and as a writer who aspires to success through fiction, I have a vested interest in the results of this debate. And I am very invested in the idea that fiction has a place in our parks. (3+ books, >500k words- if you count planning documents, cut content and edits.) So, over the course of a couple blogs, I will attempt to make my Case for Fiction. (Roll title.) In national parks. (Roll subtitle)

Before I can seriously make that case, however. I should at least attempt to expound upon the point I am attempting to counter.

Some reasons for this opinion:

Writing a series of fiction mystery novels in National Parks, and doing all the other junk necessary to drag the Junior Rangers Investigative Club novels across the mile marker known as: Publication, I have heard several variations on the following paraphrase:

“Some (Park Rangers) don’t like fiction books about (or in) their parks.”

I understand. There are several reasons to be weary of fiction in national parks.

Reality

First and foremost, National Parks have their own real allure: You can find real adventure hiking through the woods in Yellowstone and stumbling upon a waterfall, snorkeling coral reefs in Dry Tortugas and encountering a green sea turtle or rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon and watching the cliffs tower over you.

Our parks also provide a wealth of real storied history. You can learn more about the lives of the men who fought for independence from Britain, and what they had to endure at Valley Forge National Historic Park. You can learn about Ancestral Puebloan peoples from such varied locations as Walnut Canyon, Aztec Ruins, Wupatki, and Mesa Verde, and also learn about the people who still live in these areas. There’s civil way history in the battleground parks and forts. There’s personal history in the residences protected for past presidents and other figures. There’s immigrant history preserved and shared at Elis Island. Histories of harsh island settlement in Biscayne. Histories vast in time and scope, the list goes on… Why invest in fictional history?

There is also real drama. You can read about Dr. Mudd, who was sentenced to prison at Fort Jefferson because he treated John Wilkes Booth, Lincoln’s assassin. There is drama in his sentencing, and in his later pardon—after helping the soldiers at the fort overcome an epidemic of Yellow Fever. There’s drama in the story of Biscayne’s preservation as a park, and fight between those who wanted to develop it and those who wanted to preserve it. Similar and very different drama played out in Mammoth Cave. Every park has its own real characters: champions, heroes, everyday people, and even some who were villains. So, why waste the time which could be used to learn about those real people who truly tread the ground which park visitors now walk to instead read fiction?

Real adventure! Vine Swing!

Risk part 1

There’s also risk in fiction, especially in direct association with parks.

As it relates to history, there’s risk of mistake or confusion. Fiction about these places, these real people, and real historic events in national parks risks providing the wrong impression, incorrect facts, or poor accounts of figures who deserve our respect or, at least, our understanding.

Fiction can misconstrue or warp the true history of a place, or even shape a misunderstanding of the natural wonder in the park. I do my best to research a park as I write about it, but I will not catch everything, cannot feature everything, and will probably make mistakes.

Risk part 2

At worst fiction can distort our perception of the park in ways that cause real risk to visitors. The Junior Rangers Investigators walk along a trail in Yellowstone, unaware of the danger of treading so close to a boiling pool of acid… The Junior Rangers Investigators take a boat out to sea without adult supervision… The Junior Rangers Investigators crawl into a dark cave alone…

Justin, Bethany, Lucy, Rudy, Amelia, et al, can take these risks confidently because they are unknowingly protected by me. I have the ultimate ‘author’ity to keep them safe. But what about those who read my books? They can explore the real settings in fiction novels set in national parks, how do I keep them safe?

So given the fact that each park contains its own depth of history and natural wonder and knowing that fiction carries with it the potential to make mistakes and encourage real risk, why write fiction about national parks?

That’s a good question. And I promise a good, if long winded (inked?) answer as I make my Case for Fiction over the course of the next several blogs.

Because the truth is Fiction doesn’t have to be subtractive. It can be additive. A love for fiction can encourage a love for the world around us, and an awareness of fictional characters can stoke a desire to empathize with historical figures, and a fictional mystery can engage readers with the true stories of our park. At least, that is what I believe. And I will explain why going forward.

Wukoki Ruin in Wupatki