I still remember one of my professors chastising the class about absolute statements. He told us to avoid them or risk the peril of being confronted with a contradictory claim, not to mention a less than stellar grade. I accepted his instruction because the underlying statement was and is sound: no one person can know everything there is to know about even a single topic. It’s foolish to pretend otherwise.
The lesson holds true in all forms of writing, including fiction and nonfiction, poetry, and screenwriting. Every piece of writing has a “but,” and good writers acknowledge it if only in brief. They admit the contradiction. They don’t do so because of an uncertainty about the stance they’ve taken or the story they’re trying to tell; they do so because they recognize that their perspective is just one way of viewing a story. If tasked with the assignment, they could write the same story from the opposing viewpoint.
In addition, the contradictions make for a more truthful story. A writer may be asked to put forth the best representation of a person or subject, but telling all the positive points without admitting the negatives makes the story one-sided and flat. A true story is multi-dimensional. It allows ambiguities and even criticisms. In doing so, the story comes alive and becomes a work much more likely to be accepted and believed by even the most skeptical of readers.
Those “but’s” can’t override the main impetus of the story; writers have to keep the big picture in mind unless the “but” is so large and compelling that it becomes the story. If it isn’t, writers have to select the details most pertinent to that “but,” share them in brief, and move forward with the story. There may always be a “but,” but there always is the story, too. It must be preserved because it is the more important of the two.
Image: H Matthew Howarth (Creative Commons)