Not a problem in real life. In fact, it’s kind of refreshing, I think. A bit obsessive, as well. For example: Ask me how I slept last night and prepare for the gory details. A “Fine” will hardly ever cut it when nightmares curl around me like lovers every night.
So maybe (i.e. definitely, absolutely, “Please, make it stop!”) the honesty jag is a little annoying to family, friends, strangers, etc. I do try to temper it, though. I succeed a lot of the time too.
In my writing, give me a character based on a real, historical, once-living-and-breathing entity and I go rather stupid with the honest kink.
I mean, I feel kind of Frankenstein-ish changing the way a guy really looked. Fiddling with his age or his background is tantamount to a major crime in Chloe World. Even if I’ve changed the man’s name, reinvented him to a completely different beast than the original, guilt tackles me and drags me to the ground yelling “God-Complex! God-Complex!”
It’s really rather freaky.
Why am I telling you this?
Freaky sometimes works.
As an author, embrace the freak in you.
Maybe, that’s what will make you stand out just enough to catch that publishing house’s eye.
Meanwhile, me and Igor will continue to play harmlessly in the laboratory, creating fiction out of truth.