The Real Thing: A Walking Study in Emotional Whiplash

When asked in studies and surveys over the years, readers almost always say they want authenticity. It’s Communications 101: people want real stories from real people. They don’t want plastic, they don’t want fake—they want the real thing.

Corporate America of all places actually learned this decades ago. In 1969, Coca-Cola launched one of the most successful advertising campaigns in history by positioning Coke as the original, authentic cola: “It’s the Real Thing.”

And in the years since, master storytellers—from Dolly Parton and Bruce Springsteen to Stephen King and Anthony Bourdain and many others—built entire legacies on that exact same promise. You don’t grow up in a small one-room cabin without electricity or running water, build a net worth estimated between $500 and $650 million, and remain as universally beloved as Dolly Parton before she died without knowing a thing or two about connecting with people.

But… really?

I can’t help but wonder sometimes if readers actually know what they’re asking for. Do they really want all the unvarnished truth? Or do they just want a polished, curated version of it?

The truth is, raw authenticity isn’t neat. It can be downright messy. I think how my own life can run the gamut from swinging from a hardened cynicism that borders on deep negativity to a sappy, overly dramatic optimism. I can be dry sarcastic one minute and downright cornball the next.

I’m a walking study in whiplash. It’s like I’m parked along the side of the road and get nailed from behind—except instead of my neck, it’s my entire personality taking the impact.

Let’s Get Real

Take a recent day: I started one morning this past summer wiping away a tear over a sappy dad video on my phone. Aww, isn’t that cute? That dad saved the day. You go, Dad! You make all of us dads proud!

Then I ended that exact same day—during a 14-hour airport delay—slinging sarcastic quips to anyone within earshot. “Yeah, take that, American Airlines! You suck!”

Um, hello, same day. First instance Dr. Jekyll. The next Mr. Hyde. Yikes.

A Terror On The Road

Or take last week on the road: I threw my hands up in exasperation when a driver pulled out in front of me without leaving room to stop. Oh, I managed to jam on my brakes in time, but I was not happy. I didn’t offer a single-finger salute, but I did hold my hand out, palm up, asking ever so kindly: What the heck are you doing?

Then, that very evening, I absentmindedly pulled the exact same move on the guy behind me. Oops, excuse me, sir. Well, I didn’t actually say that out loud, but I meant to say it if we ever bumped bumpers.

Um, hello Robert Louis Stevenson and your novella The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, move on over for Brian, a real mess.

The Gritty Truth Or Not?

My point is, I think most of us are a crazy collection of good and bad, coexisting in the same person. Real life doesn’t come with a carefully rehearsed script or a polished brand guide. If authenticity means showing up in all our messy, contradictory, whiplash-inducing glory, maybe that’s what writers owe their readers—whether they’re entirely ready for it or not.

I know I try, but I also don’t want to be a Negative Nancy, a Debbie Downer, or swing too far the other way into Pollyanna Bobby with my rose-colored glasses and an attitude that says, “Oh, isn’t this ketchup sandwich grand?”

What about you?

Are you looking for neat, polished stories, or do you prefer the raw, whiplash-inducing truth? Drop a comment below—I promise not to judge your driving. (At least, not out loud or online in my blog!🤣)

Images by Pexels.