If
there is something that fiction writers never fail to serve their
readers wholeheartedly is the false image they present to them. It is
unheard of for a writer to write something from the blues in the
sense that he or she writes things he or she can’t identify with.
In most cases, writers will put down a story that happened in their
surroundings or important still in their own lives (except of course
writers who write research
papers and
book
reports).
It is the latter probability rather than the former that causes
people to develop false images or develop funny impressions about the
real identities of the writers in question.
It
is very hard for most people to differentiate between the real life
of people and what they put down as a piece of literature.
Essentially, most people like drawing parallels between the two
scenarios but I couldn’t differ more. My research has shown me
beyond reasonable doubt that what UK writers put down is very
different from who they actually are. The false image readers have of
their writers is just that: a false image borne in the mind and whose
existence is in the mind. Nonetheless, there are some writers like
Jack Higgins who maintain a nice image both in their books and in
real life.
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