Sunday, April 24, 2016

Nonsensical problem with the term 'nonfiction'


One of the enduring mysteries of life – along with how Tom Cruise doesn't age and what makes hot dogs taste good – is the fact that the two types of narrative (usually in books) are fiction and nonfiction.

Fiction. Nonfiction.

Fiction, of course, make sense. Fiction is made up. But the other stories – which covers everything else – are nonfiction?

All that we can do is describe it by what it's not? It's not fiction.

The irony is crazy (nonsane?): An industry of people who work with words – authors who gave us "The Grapes of Wrath," "The Origin of Species," "The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People" and "Not Quite Camelot" (check it out on Amazon!) can't come up with a word to describe a book that's not fiction.

I almost nonbelieve it.

Writers constantly create. "Beatnik," for instance, wasn't a word until San Francisco Chronicle columnist Herb Caen (that newspaper's Tony Wade) used it in 1958. Joseph Heller's novel "Catch-22" created the phrase to explain a no-win situation. "Cyberspace" first appeared in a 1982 novel. Heck, "serendipity" was part of a novel from the 1700s. "Blatant," "robot" and "chortle?" All made up by authors.

And it's not just authors. Think about other words that have come into use since 2000: Selfie. Emoji. Tweet. Sexting. Hipster. Currific. (I just made that up to explain a ridiculous basketball shot.)

Cooks have an alternative to "sweet." It's savory. (If that's nonright, I apologize. On TV shows, they always present options as savory or sweet, so I presume they're nonsame.)

But go to a bookstore or library (or website) and you have a choice: Fiction or nonfiction.

This needs to change. There is no reason that we should be stuck with a 12th century way of dividing books (I nonresearched it, so the 12th century is a guess).

Part of the problem, of course, is that the logical opposite to "fiction" is "fact."

Nonfiction books aren't necessarily factual, they're just presented as such. For instance, a book that heralds the greatness of the Oakland Raiders is considered nonfiction, even though the premise is fanciful. The author (and, presumably, the audience) treat it as fact, which is nonsmart.

So to categorize books as fact (or factual) implies truthfulness, which isn't always there.

What do we do? Do we throw up our hands, say it's too hard and pick the lazy way out? Of course not.

Did Dr. Seuss give up when he couldn't find a rhyme for "sofa" in "There's a Wocket in My Pocket?" No, he wrote about a "bofa."

Did J.K. Rowling give up when she couldn't come up with a name for the fourth house at Hogwarts? No, she just let one slytherin. (A "Harry Potter" joke!)

So there's no reason that those who work with words should be so lazy as to define half the books in the world by what they're not. Nonfiction is a nonstrong way to define a massive genre of literature.

The solution? A new word, which contains enough accuracy to define it and make it obvious what we're talking about.

I suggest that from now on, books are either fiction or faction.

Faction. It's the opposite of fiction. Brilliant, right? Because "faction" also means a small, dissenting group within a larger group.

Embrace it and become a part of the faction faction.

You're welcome. It was nonproblem.

Brad Stanhope is a former Daily Republic editor. Reach him at bradstanhope@hotmail.com.

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