Is Fiction Real Or Not Real Novels & Stories

He calmed himself down and again looked at the book 'This can only mean one thing, this book is fake. No one will ever believe this as true. It depicts confusion on readers between the reality and not knowing that the book exemplifies magic with the word witch. Then it was only meant to be a story to read. Nothing more nothing less'

He caressed her cold, lifeless cheek with his hand, his eyes filled with utter bewilderment. "This isn't real. It's all fake. It has to be fake!" As if suddenly struck by a thought, he crawled frantically to my bedside, pulling away the white sheet that covered me. The moment he saw my lifeless face, he broke down completely. I had never seen him cry so desperately. Hunched over, his gaze lingered on Halle's face and mine, disbelief etched in his eyes. "How could this happen?" he murmured. "Wasn't it all supposed to be a lie?! Why weren't you lying to me?!

I ask and wait. “So, Disneyland?” Samuel asks, and I nod. “That is one example, yes,” I reply. “Isn’t Hyperreality everything?” King asks, and I smile. “Why do you say that?” I ask. “Well, what’s real ’round us these days? We see pictures of a country we never visited, that’s hyperreality. It’s not the physical country. Merely a picture. Models, editing done makes it hyperreality, but then the entire magazine is, it’s not reality, it’s merely a representation of someone’s view of reality.”

“Then how can she say it so confidently? Why would someone lie about something like that?” His jaw flexed again. “Because she’s desperate about something, Because maybe she feels something, and she’s twisting it into what she wants it to be. But that doesn’t make it real. You want to know what’s real?” He leaned a little closer, our foreheads nearly touching. “This. What we feel. What we are. That’s real.” “So, it's not possible?” “No! Although, there are other instances…”

His expertise and passion for fantasies, anime and manga helped him solve a case in real life. He was finally proving to everybody that he's not living in a world of dreams, the world of fantasies. Fantasy is always paired up with reality. Scratch that, fantasy is a version of another reality. It cannot be separated, nor destroyed. Or else the balance and symmetry of all things will be destroyed.

When she stops talking and looks up at him he tells her, “I don't care what you read or watch. I just hate werewolf fiction because it is all a bunch of made-up bullshit.” “I guess so, but isn't that why people read it? They know werewolves are not real, but still they love the stories? They can picture it in their minds and for a while, the world is a bigger and far more wondrous place for them. A place where magic exists and there is more to people than the mind can fathom.”

she explained. “You mean that the stuff is written by Rick Riordan is true?” I widened my eyes, “Kyle has told me about the women which attacked us were Hade’s servants. Does this mean Percy Jackson is real too?” I was damn curious. “Yeah…he’s and everything in those books. All the fictional worlds are real, Alisa” Shelby explained, “There are different dimensions in this world with different veils and entrances. Not every fiction is fiction” “I don’t understand” I shook my head squinting my eyes.

THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION NAMES, CHARACTERS, BUSINESS, PLACES, EVENTS, AND INCIDENTS ARE EITHER THE PRODUCT OF THE AUTHORS IMAGINATION OR USE IN A FICTITIOUS MANNER. ANY RESEMBLANCE TO AN ACTUAL PERSON, LIVING OR DEAD, BUSINESS ESTABLISHMENTS, EVENTS, OR LOCALS IS ENTIRELY COINCIDENTAL. PLAGIARISM IS A CRIME "Funny how you think I fell into your trap," He said laughing.

“Especially when they’re built on truth.” A faint, condescending smile touched her lips. “Truth is such a malleable concept, don’t you find? Often confused with sentimentality and… well, fiction.” Her eyes locked with mine, a direct challenge. “I read your little blog post. A very moving story. A work of fiction, of course, but moving nonetheless.” I could feel Arthur tense beside me. The entire room was holding its breath. “It’s interesting you should mention fiction,” I said, not breaking eye contact. I gestured to the mosaic. “This phoenix, for example. It’s a powerful myth. Rising from the ashes. But it’s not the only powerful story about rising from ruin, is it?”