It’s all made up

I’ve just been chatting to Helen Blunden about a novel I may be about to read and confessing that I have an issue with fiction – namely that “it is all made up”. Goodness knows why I find this such a block. I have no problem thoroughly enjoying films and TV series, but when I am reading a novel the fact that it isn’t real gets in the way.

But then a lot of the non-fiction that I read is made up too! All of our stories are made up. Our narratives about our own lives are made up. Does that make them any less meaningful?

What do you reckon?