In litchat the other day, someone posted a link to the Times list of best nonfiction.
One of the categories is the nonfiction novel.
That strikes me as very very odd. I mean, by definition, a novel is fiction. How can it be nonfiction? I don’t get it.
But wiki has an article about it and so does the New York Times. Britannica defines it as: “story of actual people and actual events told with the dramatic techniques of a novel.”
I know you can tell a nonfiction story like you would tell a fiction story, but I thought that was narrative nonfiction. If that’s not it, what is narrative nonfiction? Or maybe creative nonfiction – I think narrative nonfiction and creative nonfiction are the same thing.
This is so confusing! Also, contradictory, because I never imagined anything could be described as both nonfiction and a novel. That’s just weird.
In Cold Blood by Truman Capote is supposed to have invented the genre and in the New York Times interview he says he wrote it because he a literary theory about the nonfiction novel. Something about “. . . a narrative form that employed all the techniques of fictional art but was nevertheless immaculately factual . . .“.
I am not entirely sure I understand his theory, but it sounds a lot like narrative nonfiction. Is it the same thing? I am still not sure.
Related articles
- The Nonfiction Account of My Nonfiction (writinglonghand.wordpress.com)
- Dave Cullen’s Narrative Nonfiction Reads Like a Novel (jhunsickerwrites.wordpress.com)
- Creative Nonfiction week 1 (specialdee.wordpress.com)
- Some oppose teaching ‘In Cold Blood’ at Glendale High School (latimesblogs.latimes.com)
- Help Me Pick a Work of LGBT Graphic Nonfiction! (bilerico.com)
- “Blogspiration” (baumannblogs.wordpress.com)
- New Books: Winter’s Tail (youknowforkidsblog.blogspot.com)
Malachi isn’t like other vampires. He lives away from other vampires because he doesn’t care for vampire society. Instead he stays on his island and rehabilitates large cats for release into the wild. That’s why he’s given wild, damaged vampire fledglings and asked to make them ready to live in the vampire world.

Distracted by the sound of her kids laughing, she looked out the window. They were playing, throwing leaves around. “Bag them,” she called.
Yeah, I am doing two or maybe three things in one blog post.



Big Bird hopped off his chair and pecked the girl’s foot. She shrieked and jumped, knocking over the chair and banging her head on the wall.