Truth is Stranger than Fiction...

by Unpronounceable

First published

Twilight doesn't take her new findings on the nature of fiction too well.

You know the saying "truth is stranger than fiction"? Well, Twilight learns about why and doesn't take it too well.


I had this one sitting on my computer for a while, so I finished it. It's similar to that thought experiment with the monkeys and the typewriters and rewriting Shakespeare. This is a bit closer to the actual product, though.

Truth is Stranger than Fiction...

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"...They say that the best stories are true. They also say truth is stranger than fiction. Why is this? Because fiction is confined to our imagination, while truth is beyond it. That makes fiction, in a way, more predictable, more understandable. It is easier to control fiction by its very nature of being created by us, ponies..."

Twilight loved going to public lectures in Ponyville. Public lectures are similar to university lectures, but open to the public and about a more varied range of topics. Many smaller towns in Equestria hold them in a (successful) attempt to educate ponies who may not have the opportunity to go to university. Twilight particularly loved the ones on literature and writing, being a librarian and all that. Today, she was listening to Writ Scroll, a University of Canterlot professor, talk about fiction and non-fiction.

"...One thing to note is that non-fiction is not necessarily truth. Take the famous example of My Great Nation, the autobiography of Fible Fable. That was published as non-fiction, but over half of it was uncovered as fictitious. You should take this as a lesson; don't believe everything you read. Of course, for the most part, non-fiction is agreed upon as truth... "


Twilight opened the door to her treehouse and ran inside. The pegasi started the rainstorm a few minutes earlier than announced. That annoyed her to no end. She put her saddlebag down, filled with notes on the lecture, and looked around for Spike. She found the purple dragon in the kitchen making dinner.

"Why, that is mighty kind of you Spike. What are we having?"

"I planned breakfast-for-dinner; oat pancakes, hay bacon, and orange juice."

"Thanks, Spike. You are so helpful, as usual."

Twilight left the kitchen and trotted over to the shelves of non-fiction, scanning the books row by row.

"900s, 920s, 921, ah-ha! 921.42, My Great Nation. I thought I had you somewhere. And I knew something was off about you, but I never figured out.."

"Twilight, are you talking to a book again?"

The mare in question leaped backwards, half-hiding the book held in her magic. "Maybe?"

"Twilight, you are so predictable; you and your books. Well, the pancakes are ready, so I'm going to start eating."

Spike sauntered over to the kitchen as Twilight thought about what he said; "predictable." Twilight tossed this through her mind like a sock through the wash; as it kept going, it kept getting heavier. A question popped into her head. But first, pancakes.


"Come in," the beige unicorn stated blandly.

Twilight woke up at the crack of the royal dawn to get to Canterlot. Writ Scroll's first class that day was at noon, so she wanted to get there early to talk. Spike was left in charge of the library, as he usually did a good job.

"Um, hi there, Professor. Can I, um, talk with you?"

"Sure. And you are?"

"Twilight Sparkle. I heard your lecture on fiction in Ponyville yesterday, and I have a question."

"Oh, Twilight! You're the Princess's personal protege, right?" Twilight nodded at the sudden enthusiasm. "What an honor having you in my office." He gestured for Twilight to take a seat. "So, you mentioned that you have a question."

"Yes, I do. Um, could you tell me more about fiction and why it is predictable?"

"Any reason?"

"No particular one. I just found the subject... interesting."

"Okay." Writ took a deep breath. "Well, you see, fiction is more and less predictable. It's less predictable because things that couldn't happen normally can happen. What you are capable of doing is beyond the reaches of reality. The only limit is our imagination, which is exactly what makes it more predictable. Our imaginations, and minds, are limited. Okay, let's take a step back. Imagine a closed system with nothing in it. It is easy to predict what will happen in the system; nothing. Now, add a stimulus. It is a bit harder to predict the outcome but not by much. Now, add ten more stimuli. It becomes much harder to predict what will happen. Reality has millions upon millions of stimuli all affecting each situation. It makes it on a whole much harder to predict what will happen. Fiction has very few outside stimuli, so it is much easier to predict and map. Oh, and cliches don't help either." A pause. "I think that's about it. I hope that satisfies your curiosity."

Twilight looked up from her notepad. "Indeed it does. Thank you."

"You are very welcome. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to prepare for my class." Writ got up and walked to the door, showing the way out. Twilight followed suit and, after final goodbye, left for the train station.


Spike was worried about Twilight. She had been up all night, simply pacing in front of her blackboard filled with her chicken scratchings. He had tried to ask but Twilight simply moaned angrily at him. Spike couldn't think of what to do. Suddenly, like clockwork, he got an idea. He rushed out the door, off to Rarity's boutique.


"She didn't even notice when I moved her ink wells! Across the room!"

Rarity had gathered the other three Elements (Pinkie was nowhere to be found, conveniently) together in Twilight's library. Nopony could break her concentration, and now she had been like this for eighteen hours. Nothing worked; moving her stuff, poking her, yelling at her. They even thought about lighting the tree on fire, but concluded that that wouldn't work either. Spike even started in on the ice cream, but, alas, it was ineffective.

"I'm here." Pinkie sang as she bounced in, only to be immediately grabbed by Twilight's magic.

"Thank you for coming Pinkie. You are my only hope!" Twilight said like she was in desperation. "Do something random."

"But I'm not random. I'm spontaneous!" Pinkie pointed out.

"Just. Do. Something."

"Twilight, I can't just DO something weird at the drop of a hat."

"Oh no. It can't be true."

"Twilight." Applejack spoke up. "Uh, you're not actin' like yourself."

"Of course I'm not."

The others looked at her in surprise and shock.

"This world," she continued, "is all made up. Just fiction. How did I figure this out? Well, this world is just way to predictable, just like a story. Ponies' personalities change on a dime. Nothing really makes sense. It's like something you would find in the bargain bin in a thrift store. Nothing adds up."

The others looked at each other and laughed.

"Oh, Twilight. You JUST are figuring this out." Pinkie snorted.

"We've know this for years now, Twilight." Rarity added.

"Why didn't we tell her?" Fluttershy asked.

"I guess nobody bothered to tell her" was the response.

"I'm sorry, Twilight, but this is simply old news." Rarity added again.

Twilight was stunned. "So, you all knew that we are all in a fictional story and didn't tell me."

"I didn't know," Spike chimed.

"Oh, Twilight, you're so gullible. Of course we're not in a story. We were all joking." Rainbow piped.

Twilight was very confused. And apparently Pinkie too.

"Well, I wasn't joking." Pinkie stated matter-of-factly.

"What?!" everypony said at once.