Nonfiction can be tricky and yet I always find it closer to my heart than fiction. I think the saying -truth is stranger than fiction, often proves right. The ability to draw on my own experiences, and memories, is forever intriguing and the well never seems to run dry.
From my first creative nonfiction class till this day I found an endless fascination in chasing my own memories. Always amazed at how my own mind never ceased to play games and present stories in ways that seem real and yet when I get the chance to check the facts I often discover a whole ‘different truth’.
For awhile this used to bother me and I would delve into the memories trying with no apparent success to unveil the ‘real story’ that one story that will never change. And later I succumbed to the striking irony. Truth, much like beauty, is really in the eyes of the beholder.
My truth and another person’s truth can be as different as the night from the day and yet they are both true.
So while nonfiction is nothing but the truth what it is in reality is my unique ‘I’ the way I and only I can see it. It is unique to me and while based loosely on facts it acquires over time a special mixture of colors, and shades.
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