Zen and the art of trust

A writer makes some kind of promise to each reader at the start of a book. Trust abused is the fastest way for a writer to find obscurity (or notoriety – think James Frey, Helen Demidenko, JT LeRoy, Stephen Glass). Trust lost is almost impossible for a writer to restore. (UPDATE 30 May 2008: People seemed interested in LeRoy, so I’ve written more about him here.)

When I read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance: An Inquiry Into Values (discussed earlier here), I worried Pirsig lacked the skill to bring me back from the place he was taking me. I mean that I have bipolar disorder, and the depth of thinking he applied, and the expansiveness of his ideas, brought out in me deep thought and expanded thinking. Thinking thoughts no one else does and expanding thinking are early signals of a manic episode. The only reason I continued with the book was because I’d heard over and over it was a classic.

Because of these recommendations, I trusted Pirsig to return me to normal; thinking stretched, but not snapped. And he did.

For writers, we need to consider what promise we make to readers at the start of our memoir. Can we deliver on that promise? To fail is to decimate trust.