Lying

a character flaw that can drive entire narratives

Lies are narratively energetic because of the space between the truth and what is said. They come in many flavors and sizes. Consider the prevarications of Fitzgerald's Gatsby: his true name, his past, his work, his military service, who was driving his car — all spun in the hopes of winning Daisy Buchanan. They start out as victimless crimes, get out of control, and in the end the body count includes Gatz himself. In The Good Soldier, lies are rampant. Florence lies about her heart condition to mask her affair, and John Dowell distorts much of the story he tells, especially the account of his wife, Florence's death. (I, for the record, belong to the school that says he murdered her.) Or consider the swirl of lies surrounding the titular bee sting in Paul Murray's recent novel. Even small lies, say a character pretending that they've gone to school when they actually haven't, as Sylvie and Ruth do in Housekeeping, can be highly revealing of character.

PROMPT: Depict a character lying. It could be a minor fib or something huge, an outright fabrication or the fudging of some incriminating detail in an otherwise true story, or perhaps the withholding of a crucial piece of information. Their lie could be an intentional deceit or the artifact of a faulty memory. Does the lied-to person already know the truth, or will they find out later, or never know? What about the reader? What about the liar — do they have insight? Play around with this. Misinformation can be dangerous, but it can also be funny.