Why Some Fiction Feels More “Real” Than Other Fiction
I recently wrote a blog post discussing the difference between true and untrue fiction. By “true” I don’t mean factual, but rather having strong internal logic and authority such that we collectively believe in its intellectual merit. “Untrue” fiction, by contrast, includes works like fan fiction. These may have strong internal logic and be entertaining but they lack the creative authority to be collectively accepted as the canonical version of fictional events.
However, there are several examples of fan fiction that have gone on to evolve into their own universe; and that evolution granted it canon. A Twilight fan fiction story eventually became 50 Shades of Grey, for example. When it was fan fiction, we didn’t collectively accept it as the “true” things that Edward and Bella did. But when the characters were renamed, and the story was reworked into its own world, it was given a new sense of legitimacy.
The Twilight author, Stephanie Meyer, no longer had to (or could) grant it authority because it had evolved out of her developed universe.
But what about collective stories where the characters remain the same and the universe doesn’t change? Mythology, for example. Sometimes expansions and retellings crystallize into something we collectively accept, sometimes they stay in the space of “entertaining retellings”. What determines this?
The True Version of Fictional Events
This raises an intriguing question: even though fiction is made up, can some fictional things be truer than others?
Take Harry Potter, for example. His eyes are green but J.K. Rowling could just as easily have made them brown. Or his lightning-shaped scar could have been a frowny face. Even as I type that, I feel a twinge as I know what I’m saying isn’t true. But neither the lightning bolt scar or the frowny face scar are true in a factual sense since Harry is purely fictional.
Yet, once a fictional world becomes realized in our collective imagination, deviations from it can feel wrong. If I saw him in my mind or reality without his lightning-shaped scar, I would feel like something is off. Fictional truths can feel real- even sacred, once canon is developed.
This reveals something powerful: original creators hold immense authority over their fictional worlds. And that authority doesn’t always transfer well.
Fictional Authority Gone Wrong: An Example
The creators of the Game of Thrones TV show lost a lot of their authority over George R.R. Martin’s world in the later seasons of the show. During the first five seasons, the show creators were able to rely heavily on Martin’s books. Martin even wrote one episode for each of the show’s first four seasons and these episodes were widely considered fan favourites: “The Pointy End” (S1), “Blackwater” (S2), “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” (S3), and “The Lion and the Rose” (S4).
During the sixth season however, the TV show began to outpace the books. And it showed. The storytelling suddenly felt rushed, there were character inconsistencies, and visuals so dark that you couldn’t tell what was going on.
The TV show producers lost the audience’s trust that they understood that world and could communicate it well. The creative authority that George R.R. Martin has did not transfer solely to the TV show’s creators. And the audience noticed.
They were trying to make exciting TV, with cliffhangers and plot twists, but they forgot to obey the inner logic of the Game of Thrones world that had been built up to that point.
Obeying vs. Disobeying a Fictional World’s Logic
If Harry had suddenly behaved out of character and taken the Elder Wand for his own purposes that may have caused us to lose trust in the person who betrayed it- either J.K. Rowling or the creators of the movies. But they were true to the story’s logic. And therefore we believe their versions.
While we collectively felt the creators of the Game of Thrones TV show were not true to the story. People said that they should redo the final season in order to “do it right”. The fictional truth that the TV show creators had tried to develop was not widely accepted as such.
Audience Trust is a Sliding Scale
So why did the Harry Potter movies maintain this audience trust while the Game of Thrones TV show lost it? Because the Harry Potter movies maintained the inner logic of the Harry Potter world.
This inner logic was not absolute though. Trust is a sliding scale. There were inconsistencies with Harry and his mother’s eye color in the movies- which frustrated viewers. However, this was merely accepted as an inconsistency- a fly in the ointment- of the movies’ truth. Whereas the later seasons of the Game of Thrones TV show were seen as entirely wrong.
Creative and functionally necessary deviations are seen as okay, as long as the overall inner logic of the fictional world isn’t betrayed. It is especially important to maintain this logic when creative authority is already diluted (like in the form of TV producers vs. the original writer of a series). The audience trusts the original author more than they trust TV producers.
So there is something deeper and intangible to creative authority. It is more than just someone claiming to have the right to shape a fictional world, it is about who we, as an audience believe has earned the right.
Creative Authority Doesn’t Just Show Up in Movies & Books
And this principle doesn’t just apply to stories. It shows up in other forms of art too.
Consider the difference between a million dollar abstract painting and a piece of child’s art that looks almost the same. The difference between these two can seem infinitesimally small- a brush stroke here, a splash of color there.
Why is one displayed in a gallery and the other stuck to a fridge? It is not purely about aesthetic quality- it’s about authority. What is considered “accidental” in the child’s art, is considered “subconscious” in the adult’s if the adult has shown a pattern of legitimacy.
In contrast, the child has not yet earned our trust in their creative authority. We see no inner logic or wisdom. The adult has somehow earned this, and we believe in their genius.
Societal and institutional acknowledgement are notoriously finicky and paradoxical, though, and artists like Banksy regularly poke fun at this.
Messy Bun Book Lover
(Originally posted on July 11, 2025, edited May 2026)