A Conversation with
Karma Brown
Lucy’s experience with confabulated memory disorder is a unique take on the familiar theme of amnesia in fiction. What was the inspiration for her story? Is memory confabulation real?
I read a Boston Globe article about a twenty-nine-year-old North London man who had a bike accident, and after waking from his medically induced coma, he had all these fantastical made-up memories. Like many people I’ve told about this story, I had no idea this was a real condition! Or just how complex and unreliable our memories really are. As I read the piece I thought, “What if this happened to me?” and almost instantly Lucy’s character started to take shape...
The relationships Lucy has with Daniel and Matt are both very complicated—she remembers intimate details of her life with Daniel that never really happened while forgetting the truth about her deep connection with Matt. As you were shaping the story, did you find yourself rooting for one relationship over the other, and did you ever consider giving her the happily-ever-after she initially craves with Daniel?
It was an interesting love triangle to write, not only because of the false memories that produced it but also because it allowed me to explore the idea of choice, and creating our own happiness—like how Lucy’s therapist tells her, “You have the right to change your present if it doesn’t fit with the future you envision.” As for who got the happy ending with Lucy, it was always going to be Matt. But I wasn’t going to make it easy for her to realize that!
You finished The Life Lucy Knew by doing something very different from your previous novels: including an epilogue with a happy ending! Can you tell us about your decision to finish the story this way?
I have, so far, finished my novels with what my editor and I like to call “satisfying” endings. Meaning by that last page, readers will probably have cried (in some books, quite a lot) but will also see a glimmer of hope for the characters despite what they’ve endured. However, I knew from the beginning this book had to be different in how it ended—a glimmer wasn’t going to cut it for Lucy. Because while I’m (mostly) the driver when it comes to my characters’ decisions, sometimes they take the wheel and we veer in another direction. This is a perfect example of that phenomenon.
What was your greatest challenge in writing The Life Lucy Knew? What about your greatest pleasure?
One of the greatest challenges was how to write authentically from inside Lucy’s head when she wasn’t sure which memories were real and which ones she had confabulated. Also, keeping the interactions between the characters from feeling contrived. I told my editor early on to keep an eye out for overtly cheesy moments, but a couple may have slipped in because, well, I’ve learned a little cheese isn’t the worst thing. The greatest pleasure? Writing Lucy her happily-ever-after ending.
Tell us about your writing process.
I am always knee-deep in story ideas, often inspired by people in unique and mind-boggling situations, like the man with the false memories. And once I have an idea I can’t stop thinking about—and usually the beginnings of a character who won’t stop chattering to me—I write down a formal pitch for the story, always starting with a “what if?” question. If I can’t answer that question, I know the story doesn’t (yet) have legs. Then I craft a full synopsis and outline for the idea, including its main players, and only then do I get to work on the actual writing. It’s a long process that involves much coffee and staring off into space and endless internet searches and loads of self-doubt and plenty of evenings where I ask (force) my husband to brainstorm scenarios. It’s a lot of work, but I’d be lying if I didn’t also say it was a lot of fun.