Truth

Truth. Honesty. These are values I cherish. I like to consider myself an honest person, and a seeker of truth.

I wrote something recently - a novel. This was a book I'd begun writing ten years ago. I hit a block in the story, and this block put the novel on the shelf until a month or two ago. That was when I realized that the main character ought to be a girl, not a guy. I was ecstatic. Finally, I'd be able to write the book as it was meant to be!

I did, in fact, write the book. I sent it then to my sister, whose review came back scathing. She was upset that in changing the character to female, I'd also changed the character. According to her, my female protagonist came off as weak, unconfident, and uninteresting, where the male character had been intriguing, sarcastic, and totally composed. I was shattered by her comments. I felt like she was putting my own personality through the grinder. At some point in the conversation, she asked if she was being too harsh, and I, true to my values, replied, "There's no such thing as too much honesty."

But is that the case?

I was conflicted. Emotionally, I felt that the critique was too much for me. I didn't know how to shoulder the hurt and move on. However, the cooler part of my mind did recognize truth in her words.  I saw at once that she had a point, that I could write the character better, and that doing so would only improve the story. Accepting that felt like passing kidney stones. It was true. I hated it. But I did not wish it unsaid.

So what is it about truth? Is it the universal, correct path? I find it hard to imagine a marriage surviving on pure, unadulterated truth. I do not condone a relationship based on dishonesty. However, I do believe that in the interests of love, not all truths must be said.

These are my thoughts. I don't have any clarity on the topic. Ironically, it seems that like most concepts, truth is not a black-and-white issue.