As you may or may not know, Jodi MacArthur is filled to the brim with awesomeness. She's a horror and crime writer who pens a pirate series at Pulp Metal Magazine has a phenomenal story up at 10Flash Quarterly, The Girl Who Was Chased by an Abominable Snowman with a Machete.
With a title like that, you know you're in for a treat.
She follows through with a raucous, imaginative, and hilarious adventure. Santa, Big Foot and, of course, the machete-wielding Snowman all make appearances in this blazing tale told from the perspective of a girl who requests her mom to "not freak out" about her disappearance.
MacArthur is also Chin Wagging over at Richard Godwin's place and sheesh, does she provide thoughtful, engaging answers.
At one point, she quotes King as saying that fiction has power as the truth withing the lie. That really rings true for me. To me, non-fiction and journalism offers a lot of facts, but seems to often skirt around truth. I think there is a difference there--truth is the core, but facts are mere information floating in space. But good fiction tracks down truth, sinks its claws into its back, and holds on for dear life! Good fiction catapaults into the void of human identity...
or you know some other smart-sounding philosophical stuff.
Anywho, what do you think? Is there any truth in fiction?
Or are we just deceiving ourselves? Are we just trying to rationalize why we keep playing pretend well into adulthood? Shouldn't we have better, more adultish things to do?