I’ve found myself a bit of a casualty in today’s world of misinformation and half-truths online.
Okay—casualty might be a strong word. Let’s say: misunderstood.
I write what I know. Sometimes I embellish, sure—but it’s always rooted in truth, unless I clearly say otherwise. Maybe I should start putting disclaimers on each post:
This is true.
This is fiction.
Take my recent blog about the miracle fish story. It actually happened. As unbelievable as it sounds, it was real. It didn’t even occur to me that readers might think I made it up—until one of my daughters commented, “I remember this.” That’s when someone reached out and asked, “Wait… this actually happened?”
They were stunned when I said yes.
Why do I write this blog?
To share information. To offer insight. To spark a laugh. To make people think. But most of all, to leave the reader with a genuine sense of me—the person behind the words.
Am I succeeding?
Writing can feel like a blind art form. I can’t bring a blog post to show-and-tell the way someone might with a painting or sculpture. Writers can’t always tell where they stand with their work until there’s engagement. And when that engagement shows that I missed the mark—especially when something true is mistaken for fiction—it’s a shock to the system.
How could someone not know this really happened? (I have to shake my head, I can definitely see how this example could be taken as fiction.)
Clearly, I need to rethink that.
Maybe other writers have been here too. Maybe it doesn’t matter as long as people enjoy the story. But I’m genuinely curious: Do you think the truth vs. fiction distinction matters in a personal blog?
And, just for fun—
How many of you thought the fish story was made up?
Let me know in the comments. I’d love to hear what you think.
Deborah Sickle Hill 