Does Fiction Mean Fake Novels & Stories

"And I can't differentiate them from you. I can't tell reality apart from fiction. It is as if something is blocking me from making the right decision. Sometimes I will be reminiscing and reveling in your memory. And when I think that is you, and when I am sure it is you. You then disappear like a pillar and cloud of smoke. Just gone, as if you have been released from my grasp. I am struggling to separate reality from fiction. Sometimes even when I open my eyes, I still can't tell it apart."

I wondered. “Nuances,” he smiled with genuine enjoyment, his face lighting with the expression. “Fae cannot lie, but if their language tells you that they’re not telling the truth, is it really a lie? The language of deceit was initially developed as a literary device. It was their way of saying, this is an imagined story, and not a true event. When the cataclysm of mankind began, they evolved that language into one they use with man.” “And the Deceit of Elovyn is written in the language of deceit?” I puzzled it out. “So, it could be implying that Elovyn is lying, or just that the poem is a creation and not a true event?”

Mara — The Art of the Half-Truth The folder sat between them like a third person in the room. Mara had learned, in four years of becoming what Hayes had made of her, that the most effective lies were not the ones built entirely from fiction. Fiction had gaps — places where the architecture showed, where the light came through wrong and the person you were lying to felt the draft without knowing where it came from. The most effective lies were the ones built around a true thing, the way a house is built around a load-bearing wall. You constructed the fiction outward from something real, and the realness held everything up.

Which wasn’t that fake after all. She had to cover Emma’s mouth every once in a while to prevent her from screaming or making noises inside the library but Florence was able to tell everything she could remember, keeping the steamy details of their nights together, of course. Emma didn’t need to know that much anyway. “Holy sh*t,” Emma whispered, trying to put the pieces together in her mind. “I thought you were faking your marriage. Is he good? In bed, I mean.” Florence’s jaw opened in shock.

The video continued with my fake character saying things I never uttered: "What do you want? Is it money? Tell me, Diana." Then the fake me replied: "Yes, I want money too, but I want to have you in me too. Is it so bad to want?" I stumbled back, shaking my head. I couldn't believe I was hearing my own voice saying those disgusting, fake words. The video was a lie, a fabricated piece of garbage. The video kept playing, and I felt a heavy stone hit my chest. I knew I never said anything like this to Michael. The story, the video, the lies it was all wrong. Where was all this coming from? I would never allow my dignity to be destroyed like this.

Shanon decided that it was time for her to go home after running away from home for a week. Actually, the term going home sounded too much for her. Firstly, because the house was not her house. She was never a part of that house, which made her feel that it was a place to come home to. Second, even though she was Anthony's legal wife, their marriage was fake. All of Anthony's assets, including his house, never belonged to her. She was only in the house for a short time. Until Anthony let her go.

Patting her ‘fro, she answers the question: “Well, if you ask me, I'd say that the line between Fiction and Reality should not be blurred. In real life, no Mafia is going to sweep you off your feet and pamper you like a good girl. Or, treat you like his princess. It's all make-believe. Entertainment. No single Mafia man out there is like the ones that you read about in the pages of my book. Or any book in the Mafia-Billionaire Romance genre for that matter.” Like an obedient puppet, the Interviewer is quick to agree on that take.

"If it wasn't true, how could fake news spread? Tell me honestly, do you really like women?" "No..." She huffed. "I was honest, but you didn't believe it!" She thought impatiently to herself.

He looked at me intensely "Be honest with me, do you actually like the fictional characters or the actors impersonating them in the different movies?" I smiled and shrugged, "I knew it!!!" He shook his head one more time. "Whatever, It's my second win" "Nope, sorry to tell you it doesn't count" "What!! Why?"

Do you know what I hate the most? Fake people. With their fake boobs. With their fake skin. With their fake hair. With their fake teeth. Especially their fake personality. Why can't they just be themselves? Oh right, it's because they're fake. B mean word that means female dog. From the craziest hater, CrazyHater. I shut the laptop close after publishing it. Putting it away, I lay down on my bed. "CHLOE!" Oh, come on! Let.me.rest!