Let me tell you something that I’m learning, and see if you have found it out yet for yourself, or disagree: The importance of fiction in its story form and poems, is the value of the maybe, the could be, and the what if that it offers and allows. Only in their concept and in their execution in fiction do these ideas need have depth and yet the possibility of flight. There is only meaning to them when allowed to freely weave among the willows of a structured narrative line.
Reality is real, and maybe and the rest don’t really count at all because whatever is decided, happens, and automatically becomes an is and then steps back to recede into the past as was. The future, the realm of the unknown and where these thoughts survive, is never, ever real.
While either fun or worry to wonder, the only real thing we need to know and care about is what exists as truth as we accept it. The greatest scientific theory at its stages until evidence proves it as an existing thing, is, until that point, purest fiction.
I do not mean to disabuse us of our hopes and dreams, but they exist for most their lives and sometimes all their lives, as fantasy. But reality can be enough and more if we truly see it. There’s more in that alone to fascinate and agitate the mind. And for the quiet times, there will always be the open door of fiction to take us further than we can even think to go.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology
Reality is only as real as you choose to let it be. The past blurs and becomes fiction and the present is interpreted by mood. Only the future is true fiction.
Cass
Well said. If the present is going well, people can focus on it and accept it, but often miss the little things in life going on around them, outside of their own sphere. You’re right, it’s all up to interpretation and whether one wants to see things in a mood-enhanced viewpoint.
There’s another whole blog post brewing here, regarding TRUTH versus FICTION, but for a minute let me state that I also believe fiction is a necessary tool in our quest for happiness. We simply must have the ability to immerse ourselves in something brighter, lovelier, and gentler if we are to survive.
As to TRUTH … well, just because I believe it to be true, does not make it truth. More specifically, it might be MY truth, but YOUR truth could be entirely different. Insert any example here (religious belief, moral belief). Defining truth is a bit like trying to nail that proverbial jello to the wall … the form of it keeps wiggling and jiggling around until you’re left with nothing but the sticky sweet smell mashed between your fingers. You’re sure you held SOMETHING, and you’re pretty sure you believed in what you saw, yet you have nothing but the trail of sticky sweetness to show as your proof of the truth. Or something like that.
I like the design of your site, and I especially like your succinct and inventive blog posts that say much without the clutter of many words. I tend to use too many words, and can appreciate your “less is more” approach.
Insert A Trite Metaphor About a Corral
When I review these incidents in the light of my own Memorial Day trip to the ER, I remember how stressful these incidents can be not only on the victim (who has the advantage of knowing where the pain is) but on the partner (who is often taken by surp…