C.E. Murphy is the author of Wayfinder, a paranormal fantasy featuring a woman with the magical ability to detect lies from truth:
Lara Jansen is a truthseeker, gifted—or cursed—with the magical ability to tell honesty from lies. Once she was a tailor in Boston, but now she has crossed from Earth to the Barrow-lands, a Faerie world embroiled in a bloody civil war between Seelie and Unseelie. Armed with an enchanted and malevolent staff which seeks to bend her to its dark will, and thrust into a deadly realm where it’s hard to distinguish friend from foe, Lara is sure of one thing: her love for Dafydd ap Caerwyn, the Faerie prince who sought her help in solving a royal murder and dousing the flames of war before they consumed the Barrow-lands.
But now Dafydd is missing, perhaps dead, and the Barrow-lands are closer than ever to a final conflagration. Lara has no other choice: she must harness the potent but perilous magic of the staff and her own truthseeking talents, blazing a path to a long-forgotten truth—a truth with the power to save the Barrow-lands or destroy them.
I thought it would be interesting to have a conversation with Murphy about lies, the truth and the trouble with both. Wayfinder will be available on September 6, 2011 from Del Rey.
Television’s curmudgeonly physician Dr. House is famous for his maxim “Everybody Lies.”Do you agree? Are there any completely honest people?
I think there are a few completely honest people, but that they tend to be on the outer edges of what we regard as normal social adaptation. For people who read social cues relatively easily…I’d be surprised if there are any totally honest people out there. Dr. House’s argument, I think, is that everybody’s got something they’re trying to hide, which I don’t necessarily think is true.
Anyone who has spoken to witnesses to an accident or violent crime knows that getting a consensus on what actually happened is very difficult. Is utter honesty even possible with the way our brains work?
Good grief, what do you want here, a dissertation on the capacity for the human mind to deceive itself? I think we’re probably wired to tell stories that make it possible to live with ourselves, but I think a person who’s relatively self-aware can do a fairly good job at being totally honest. I don’t think it’s especially easy, and I don’t think it’s a good way to win friends and influence people.
In Truthseeker and Wayfinder, the way Lara’s power works, especially earlier on before it’s fully developed, is that if a person believes they’re telling the truth even she can’t tell the difference between a lie and truth. I imagine if you put her (with her fully-developed truthseeking sense) in to ask questions about what happened at a car accident, she could probably piece together the truth from the dissonant bits from each individual account.
Of course, that’s kind of what cops do in the real world anyway, just without the help of magic. 
Your books feature faeries and otherworldy creatures. Many old legends seem to imply that faeries simply have no human concept of honesty, or even perceive the world in the same way as human beings. How do you address this in your books?
*clears throat* The inability of the fair folk to lie is in fact legendary, and I considered that when I started writing these books. Then I basically said “Nah, not gonna go there.” It was hard enough writing a book with a character who speaks and thinks literally. Putting her up against a people whose entire concept of truth and lies was different seemed like a good way to make myself crazy.
Our hero, Dafydd, knows he’s dealing with a woman who always hears the truth, so he’s very very careful about what he says, but it’s not that he can’t or wouldn’t lie. The faery folk in these books don’t habitually lie, in fact, but that doesn’t mean they’re incapable of self-deception…or that that capability doesn’t affect the storyline.
We’ve all heard the old saw ‘The road to hell is paved with good intentions.” Does lying inevitably lead to trouble or can some lies truly be harmless?
Oh, I think society moves smoothly due in large part to pretty harmless lies. “I’m fine” is a standard answer to “How are you?” whether you’re actually feeling fine or not. The cashier at the grocery store does not expect you to respond with “Actually my wife just left me, the dog has chicken pox and food poisoning has had me worshiping the porcelain god for the last three nights” when she asks how you’re doing today. (Good thing, too, or it’d take forever to get through the checkout line…) Even Lara appreciates that, although it still gives her the willies when people answer with the polite lie.
Would you ever want to be able to detect lies like your character? Would you consider that to be more of a curse or a gift?
I think I probably wouldn’t be able to do my job if I was plagued by always knowing the truth. One of the recurring bits in the duology is that Lara doesn’t care for fiction and rather specifically doesn’t like fairy tales–but she’s caught up in one.
Me, well, c’mon. I’m sure you’ve seen the coffee mug that says “I’m a professional writer. I tell lies to people for money.” I don’t think stories are lies (just the opposite, in fact), but if I was hung up on that the way Lara is, I’d be, I don’t know, an accountant, not a novelist!
Have you ever been caught out in a lie? How did it go? Are there any lies you’ve ever been happy you told? You don’t have to be too specific for either of these. I’d hate for you to incriminate yourself!
*laughs* Actually, I’m a very good liar. Or, as I prefer to think of it, a fine actor. The last lie I actively remember getting caught out in was when I was about eight and my mom had asked if I’d brushed my teeth before bed. I hadn’t and said I had. She got really mad, and I would like to note to all children that one should not lie about something that leaves a scent, like toothpaste.
I recall once in college having dinner with my boyfriend, and someone I didn’t feel like talking to at the moment came over to join us. I dropped into a low shaking voice, said “Look, I’m sorry, but this really isn’t a good time right now,” and the poor guy fled. I looked back at my boyfriend, whose jaw was flapping, and he said if he had not known better he would have thought the guy was walking up on us as we were breaking up, or something. I think he was a little horrified, actually…
I think my favorite lie I ever told was to get out of staying at a company picnic all afternoon. It was the 4th of July, and on our way in I said to my boss/host, “I can’t stay long. My parents are in town.” This was perfectly true, but sounded like my parents were in town as a special occasion, when in fact they lived there. Lying by telling the truth is absolutely the best way to go.
