I think we are. Honest. If you take a look at what we do and how we live our lives, it should be more than obvious.
Well, speaking only as an unpublished very-amateur member of the set of writers, here’s some agreement. It’s obvious, really.
I have a universe in my head. Which isn’t this one.
(By most people’s standards, that’s about one step away from institutionizable schizophrenia.)
And it has demands. To be created and explored and documented and obsessed over, and finally, essentially, to get out.
Can you be possessed by a fictional reality? Sure feels that way, sometimes.