Novel & Cerita Better Than Fiction Book

This way I don’t have to carry books everywhere, but I always have something readily available. The books I keep by my bed are ones that I want to read, but can sometimes be a bit slow in parts, so they help me fall asleep. I’m currently reading “Les Misérables” by Victor Hugo. It’s an amazing book, but some of the details can be a bit much. I’ve always preferred fiction, but some parts of Les Mis read more like a history textbook, perfect for those nights I need help falling asleep.

“I can’t believe you actually read this shit. It’s fucking hilarious. This dude just came like five times inside this chick, like right in a row. In what universe is that even believable?” Oh my God, of course he’d found a sex scene of all things. “It’s fiction,” I argued defensively as I yanked my Kindle from his hand. “I like it a little bit unbelievable. That’s why I read it, you moron. To escape the real world. If I wanted believable, I’d just stop reading and return to my life.” “Yeah, but she called his dick a meat shaft.” “Oh my God.” I scowled. “You’re one of those annoying people who quibble over every little detail in a book, aren’t you?”

he sulked. "They'll help improve your vocabulary, Derek. Novels and story books are the best of all fictional works" she said with an air of pride. "Those are for old people. You say that because you read them" he chuckled. "No. I say it because it's true" she replied. "The characters in your novels are just too funny for me" he chuckled again. "Funny? What do you have to say about the ones in your comics? Busy shouting Boom! Kpow! Kachow! and all sorts of gibberish across the pages" she protested.

He replied, "All books are fiction." "Not all." "You know what I mean." He shook his head, as I continued. "I like stories that take me somewhere else," I said, "Stories that make me forget reality exists and make me paint pictures in my head. His eyes flickered briefly. "That explains the paintings." I nodded. "It helps." "So, you're one of those romance people that enjoys all those ridiculous stories.” He said, “Where girl meets boy, girl hates boy. And then by some silly ass miracle, they both love each other at the end of the day.”

Besides, I don't see what's interesting about those books, they're just pages with words on them. —Aida, you're talking about a trilogy and it's not. Besides, books aren't just pages with words on them, each book is magical, with a great story or adventure waiting to be read, with characters you can fall in love with or hate as if they were real, who will only live in your mind since they won't come out of those pages. It's an escape from reality, in conclusion. —Well, I don't plan to live that, since I love the real world even if it seems like shit sometimes. Besides, have you seen how thick those books are? —I roll my eyes. —You'll die before finishing reading them.

~ A M E L I A ~ It couldn’t be. What were the chances? The book I was looking at in the library a while back, which was all destroyed and unreadable, was also Everett’s favourite book and is a book that is widely hated. Things weren’t adding up. Shaking my head, ‘I don’t understand. If it’s a book of fiction, why do people hate it so much? Why can’t you have a fictional story of a female Alpha leader?’

She could not make out the words on the cover. It was unfortunate Eleanor could not learn how to read even when she felt like it was an act she would enjoy. To read people's thoughts on paper. To get lost in the words and escape reality. Maybe fiction was better than reality, Eleanor never knew. There had to be something better than life as it was.

She closed the book she was reading, the name read 'Silk Luv. “And let me guess, he is one of your fictional crushes?” I didn’t need to look at her to see she was smiling. “You have no idea; he is literally the best of the best…” “Then trust me, he is nothing like your Zade Meadows because there’s no way in the world anyone would find this guy attractive or pick him as a favorite.” I turned over to her; she had closed the book she was reading and kept it on the side of her bed. “Tell me about him; let me be the judge of that.”

"It's nice talking to you and all but I think I'll head back and rest. I've had a little bit too much." Without waiting for his reply I made my speedy escape. That had been really close… Bad mouth! My inner monologue almost got me in trouble. This is a side effect of sleepiness, makes one dumber by fifty percent. The trip back to the dormitory was nostalgic. Mrs Peterman bade me farewell yesterday and gave me my favourite physical book as a parting gift. As much as I loved research books and historical journals, my favourite physical tome was fiction. Fiction archive books were really rare to find as many of them were destroyed alongside civilisation during the Great Explosion. People had no

“Of course not. It’s just a house . . . my house, as you said.” “I can’t believe it. You’re Mr. Horror, and you don’t believe in ghosts? How is that even possible?” “Okay, Bias, I’m going to blow your mind with one hell of a revelation about writers and their stories. I’m pretty sure Lewis Carroll never fell down a rabbit hole into a magical Wonderland; it doesn’t seem likely that Anne Rice believes in vampires; and I highly doubt J.K. Rowling has met any real wizards. That’s what makes it fiction and not nonfiction.”