Fiction is a riddle. It is about everything in the human condition and about nothing. It’s about love, fear, hate, anger, courage, loss. It’s about happiness and hope. It’s about destruction and defeat.
And most of all, it’s about people. People write fiction. People read fiction. We need the disconnection from reality that fiction provides. We need the intoxicating adventures. We need the romance. We need the emotional entanglements, the victories, the defeats, the friendships with the kinds of people we wish we were, the kinds of friends we wish we had. We need the release from our humdrum lives.
Not everyone can be a great athlete. Not everyone can fall in love with a prince or a princess. Not everyone can defeat a dragon, or befriend one. Not everyone can have Hagrid for a friend. Not everyone can build a robot, fly a spaceship, visit different worlds, save Darth Vader and defeat the evil emperor.
But in fiction we can do all those things, be anyone we want to be. We can be Tarzan, Superman, James Bond, Thor, Ironman. We can fall in love with an Indian princess. We can love people we will only know in fiction. We can grow up, grow old, die–and walk away from it all for another day.
We can have it all.