D. Vincent DeLorenzo and Clara Wren explore the art and ethics of blending fact and fiction in writing. They share principles, practical methods, and exercises to help writers craft stories that are both honest and responsible. Listeners will discover how to navigate legal and emotional complexities while keeping their work authentic.
Chapter 1
D. Vincent Delorenzo
So, Clara, I keep coming back to this idea—stories can be true without sticking to the facts, right? I mean, emotional and narrative honesty, they're not the same thing, but they get tangled up. Like, you remember something, but it's not quite how it happened—all the details are fuzzy, but the feeling is still burning hot.
Clara Wren
Totally, and you nailed it: memory is patchy, but meaning kind of lingers, doesn’t it? So, when writers say “write your truth,” we’re not talking about court transcripts—we’re talking about the parts that feel real, the stuff that actually matters to people who pick up your book.
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Exactly. I mean, the brain fills in gaps. The challenge as writers is not to dress up the facts, but to clarify the underlying dilemma. So, for me, in Sand and Silence, I didn’t tell one soldier’s exact story—I created a composite character. That way, you get the grit and heartbreak, but you’re not outing anybody. It’s about giving readers the heartbeat of what was true without painting a target on the real folks behind the curtain.
Clara Wren
So, you’re saying fiction gives us this special permission to blur a few details, but the core tension, the moral crossroads—keep that untouched? I love your “lighthouse” for this: change the details, keep the dilemma. That’s what sticks with people, not whether the uniform was khaki or olive drab.
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Yeah, the uniform doesn’t matter—unless, I dunno, it’s the uniform that’s the dilemma! But if you get that deep truth right, readers sense it. It’s less about playing historian and more about being faithful to the current that runs underneath, you know?
Clara Wren
And I guess fiction also lets you protect people’s privacy—swap around timelines, blend a couple of folks together, so what needs to be told gets told without leaving anyone exposed. It’s like using a lantern—you see what’s essential, but the rest is gently in shadow.
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Perfect. The lantern guides, but doesn’t blind. You want readers facing the hard questions, not distracted by a checklist of dates and street names. When the dilemma is honest, the story rings true.
Chapter 2
Clara Wren
Let’s get a bit more hands-on. So, say I’ve got a weird mix of reality and fiction in my manuscript—what are your top methods to blend it all together without crossing a line?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Alright, quick toolkit: first, notebooks—just jot sensory details before you polish or self-censor, like the way diesel fumes smell at dawn or… I dunno, a crumpled pack of Lucky Strikes. Second, research—even the little moments. Third, compression. Merge folks, trim timelines—life rambles, stories can’t. Fourth, displacement. Change the details that don’t matter: hairstyles, job titles, street names. And finally, be transparent—add a note at the end of your book letting people know what you’ve adjusted and why.
Clara Wren
I like that—your own sort of guidepost at the end. Now, on compression and composites, when is it… responsible, I guess, to merge real people into one character, say, in a war novel or a memoir?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
So this one’s important. Only make a composite when it captures a pressure or a dilemma—not just a person’s private detail. And don’t use the new character as a disguise for… getting back at someone. If you're tempted, that’s a big warning sign, right?
Clara Wren
Yeah, if it starts to sound suspiciously like score-settling, maybe delete and get some perspective. But what details are actually safe to change?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Non-core stuff, usually. Change the city, change the haircut—or, I dunno, if your mate’s car was a beat-up Corolla, make it a Camry. But never change something that increases the risk for a real person or hides a harm. That’s the line, I think.
Chapter 3
Clara Wren
Alright, practical challenge time. Can you give us a few writing exercises for anybody struggling to blend fact and fiction honestly?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Absolutely. Try this: Exercise One—Inventory of the Real. Just list details from a memory—textures, smells, a sliver of dialogue. Don’t write sentences, just fragments. The idea is, you skip the performance and reach for raw, unfiltered stuff—later, you’ll weave these bits into your scene.
Clara Wren
That’s my favorite—there’s a freedom in the fragments, right? What else?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Exercise Two—Composite with Care. Write a paragraph where you merge two people’s habits or pressures into one new character. Focus on what they want, not who inspired them. Duty, jealousy, mercy—write from that center.
Clara Wren
Nice. And a third one?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Silence as Architecture. Strip a scene of the three lines that explain the feeling—you know the ones: “He was angry,” that sort of thing. Replace them with a physical action and a single object. Read it aloud—if the emotion’s still there, you’ve nailed the hidden truth.
Clara Wren
Ah, so let the emotion come in sideways, instead of hammering it in. But with all these tools, there’s a risk of stepping wrong—what are some classic pitfalls and quick ways back?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Sure. Pitfall one: the score-settling scene—if you’re sneaking revenge into the manuscript, pause and ask what the character is really after: relief, dignity, probably not vengeance. Give them a cost. Next, Wikipedia Texture—facts, facts, facts, but no feeling. If you haven’t felt it yourself, interview someone who has, steal a sensation—ground every paragraph with a real sense.
About the podcast
Authors, readers, and dreamers—gather round the lantern. Each episode, novelist D. Vincent DeLorenzo and co-host Clara Wren, a curious Australian storyteller, unpack the journeys behind great books, the discipline of writing them, and the meanings they leave behind. Through rotating segments—Behind the Book, For Writers, and For Readers—they offer cinematic readings, actionable craft advice, and heartfelt discussions that remind us why stories matter. Subscribe for weekly conversations that illuminate both page and soul. For more information visit the Authors website www.dvincentdelorenzo.com
Clara Wren
How about dialogue? You said you rewrote a lot of bits from your Army days, but… if you’re paraphrasing, how do you keep it feeling honest—not, you know, stilted?
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Oh, dialogue from real life is a mess—it rambles, people repeat themselves. I used to scribble snippets on mess hall napkins, then completely rewrite them later for pacing and punch. The trick is to capture intention, not every um and ah. If each speaker really wants something in the scene, the lines come alive. And… I might be wrong here, but sometimes I’ll use a concrete object—like a battered canteen or cracked radio—to say what the character can’t. That way, the truth’s there, but it doesn't need to be plastered across their face.
Clara Wren
That’s such a useful bit—let objects do the emotional heavy lifting. Also, that author’s note idea—that’s gold. Let’s move to how writers can practice this stuff at home.
Clara Wren
Then there’s the memoir-in-disguise issue, right? Like, fiction so thin it still has the name-tags on.
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Yeah, exactly. Fix there? Shift the circumstances till meaning, not biography, is driving the plot. Readers want the journey, not a diary with faces scribbled out.
Clara Wren
And the big legal and ethical point—never exploit someone just because you have the pen, right? Sensitivity readers, check for harm, and remember: the aim is trust, not winning some argument.
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Right. Change the details, keep the dilemma, protect the powerless. And hey, for listeners—try blending truth and fiction in a short scene tonight. Compress the timeline, cut out all the sentences telling the reader how to feel, and let the objects do the work. Bonus points if you write a little author’s note about one change you made and why.
Clara Wren
That’s your lantern challenge for the week! If this episode hit home, leave us a quick review and spread the word. Next week, we’ve got a For Readers deep dive on why we read war stories—so make sure you’re following us wherever you listen.
D. Vincent Delorenzo
Alright, Clara, always a pleasure wandering through these thickets with you. Stay curious, everyone—and keep the lantern lit.
Clara Wren
See you next time, Vincent. Bye, everyone!