Definition For Realistic Fiction Novels & Stories

He ran away as fast as he could and didn’t turn around. This is what he normally did to calm himself. He was not a psychopath but acted like one sometimes. Snatching and stealing was a stress reliever for him. He used to cover the expenses of his day this way when he didn’t get the chance to steal money from the shop. He ran far away and stopped at a store near his house. He purchased snacks and drinks for his kids and his wife. His family was his only priority and he did whatever he could to make them smile.

“So I guess you knowing it should be enough for you. You probably wouldn’t read a romance novel even if you had a gun pointed to your head.” “It’s all fiction,” he replied her. “Unrealistic fiction. And if I may ask, what good thing comes out of reading them? Illusions. They paint illusions in the head of young teenagers and adults too, I fear. They pull you out of reality and instead allow you dwell in your delusions for hours and hours. And at the end what happens? Wasted time. Unproductivity alongside disappointment when the harsh reality comes knocking on their door.” “Wow,” Emily couldn’t believe her ears. “You know, you sounded like you know much about fiction. Romance to be precise.”

“Are we characters too?” “Yes, we are and the author is the creator of this world who has put us at places like pieces of puzzle scattered all around the world. Some pieces might fit and some might not fit together, but when they are put in their right places with the right pieces — it creates an art — and it is called complete. That’s exactly what this world is — an assembly of all kinds of people who, when brought together, form an art.” “You make life sound so beautiful. Fictional life is the best life. Real life sucks,” I said.

"I read those too. And I wouldn't hesitate to admit it." "Fine. I'm a romance reader. Because life is beautiful in the romance world. All that gorgeous, unrealistic nonsense authors sell us, the perfect love, the whole thing." I let out a small laugh. "I know it's ridiculous. But I love them. Even if that kind of love only exists in books." His response wasn't what I expected. "Who told you it wasn't real?" "What?" "Every story, fiction or not, comes from something true. Someone lived a piece of it first."

"And what kind of story do you think you have?" I let out a short breath, my lips curving into something that wasn’t quite a smile. "The kind that doesn’t end with a happy ever after." Theo let out a low chuckle, though there was no real amusement in it. "That’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?" I stiffened slightly, my fingers curling at my sides. "It’s realistic." He scoffed, tilting his head as he studied me. "No, it’s just pathetic."

Ah, I've been waiting for that question since earlier. "I'm glad you asked. You see, this is the real world. Reality. But what you're living in could be called another world, but a different world where people from the real world such as us, create plots and characters to our own liking. That is what we call a book, or a novel. We read it but you get to live a life in that world of yours with your own thoughts, dreams, ideals, ambition, interests and actions, but it will all follow according to the Author's plot. And if the story is finished, I'm not sure what happens next. And the world you are living in is called 'Endless Poison Love', its a fantasy-romance novel." I explained.

You are the heroine, carrying self as holy, carrying self as only. Rest all the world is fake. You cannot take or you cannot keep. Your real acquaintance is you. Talk to you. Do not prepare to bury the you. You work. You strain. You are the only sane, capable to frame this story into a success regime. You smile your way to peace. You are the one for real peace in it.

Their legs began to shuffle but one of the campers stood still, his legs couldn't move and he had pissed on himself. "Everyone... Run! John screamed and immediately they began sprinted through the dark woods, some towards the direction of the camp, others overwhelmed by fear ran in other directions heading to unknown destinations. Summer was ahead of them all while Glenn and John were behind her. She wanted to die but certainly not in the hands of a beast she was yet to believe was real.

After all, every person is unique like Rayene was funny and out going but Henry was a smiling person who could laugh at your baddest jokes but couldn't crack one himself. "Okay, so in our world we don't have real vampires like here. But, we have stuff that works on engines and there are even books on people like you." "So, it's your ancestry that no longer exists?" I asked as little confused. "No! No! They are fictional characters!" "What's fictional characters?" "Well, they are something that exists only in your imagination. And, then you put those imaginative characters on paper. And, boom! Fictional characters are born." Rayene explained while moving her hands in all directions while I no

" That's dumb!" " Creativity was never something to be called dumb. It doesn't have to match reality as it's based on their fictional side. As for fiction, it is actually, a break from reality. Note that it's not easy to get someone out of the real world, to introduce readers, and television audience to another world full of emotions, feeling, and beauty." When " Never think about that way..." He said, then I added. " You never think at all." " How about you re-watch it with e once we go home." He suggests, and I declined his suggestion.