Fiction please. The pure escapism of transporting and taking me on a ride with other peoples and creatures while sharing their perceptions with peeks into their made up lives is wonderful. Give me insights that only they can have from their experiences. Then impregnate the page with them. Show me how the character connects the dots of their moments then draws conclusions that act as catalysts for their actions. Tell me how their actions unfold. How what they set into motion manifests itself on the vast paper or electron plain of the page. I am riveted for hours. Or at least until my transit stop. If I am kept guessing so much the better. Sure I know you are laying down a narrative arc for me, but if you can keep me enticed with bits and pieces while obscuring the expanse and contours of your flight of fancy parabola you win. I’m yours forever,
Facts can take care of themselves whether I read them or not. Not to mention some of the things that are foisted on me as non-fiction, whether from inception, or while being packaged into the highly dubious delivery systems available today seem to be obscuring rather gussied up narrative parabolas of their own.
Now a word from K.V.