Tonight, before I settled down to bed with a cup of tea and a ratty novel, I told my friend that there is no such thing as nonfiction. History books, scientific journals, autobiographies--they can't be 100% truthful. We are human and we embellish; we lie to save ourselves. I'm worried about the audience on this one. I want to entertain.Before I over-reflect on my statement, I must go on and do this before it gets replaced by new adventures. I must write about the beginning, the middle and the climax (hopefully not in that order). I must write about Life Regarding Australia. Everything from here on is "nonfiction". Where do I start?
(continued...)
