I come now to tell you for what I am brought here to die, and to give you an account of my faith, which I shall do as in the sight of the living God before whom I am shortly to stand.
And I told her point blank, you've got everything to live for. You've got such talent. You're back singing great, lose the weight. And she went and did it, and look at her now!
Given that external reality is a fiction, the writer's role is almost superfluous. He does not need to invent the fiction because it is already there.

