What if fiction is the junk food of the soul?

What if we were made to live exciting lives?  What if we were made to experience positive change and to make a difference?  What if our desire for good to win and the hero to overcome is planted in us so we would help others to live better lives too?

But what if we have lessened those longings by filling up on false stories in the same way a bowl of ice cream could allow me to care less for a nutritious meal?

I'm not saying false stories--fiction--is bad.  I like stories that were made up.  I grew up on them.  But I'm saying what if we could fill up on fiction too much?  If we eat too much junk food we can see the unhealthy results.  What would a world look like if the good passions of our souls were tempered by fluff instead of what would truly nourish?  What unhealthy outcomes would we see?

I got excited this week when a colleague caught a glimpse of what has inspired me for almost a year now.  I actually lost some sleep dreaming about what we could do.  We're still working on the plans, so there's no sense in going into details now.  Here's a story that inspired us both though.  It's one many of us have heard, but I liked hearing it fully in Erin Gruwell's own words. Real stories making a real difference.