This outlook bases itself on a number of dangerous, sad assumptions. Firstly, assumptions about nonfiction:
(1) "True tales are more accurate," the first. A tale which presents itself as true is, like all human experience, filtered through the physical senses, followed by the mental senses and emotional knowledge, of the artist, who then may only present it to participants to the extent of her or his grammatical and linguistic knowledge, as well as her or his understanding of the "real" earthrealm and how her or his experiences fit therein.
(2) "True tales are more accurate," the second. Good faith and fallible capabilities aside, nonfiction raises the question of honesty alongside that of the emotional capacity to recognize or express the truth. Consider, for example, Under Fire, anything by Bob Woodward, or any American presidential memoir of choice. And of course, the paper of record. The distinction between "fiction" and "non" is largely artificial.
A soul that has come to prize "hard realism" may find itself unable to process anything beyond. The faith-based assumptions about "fiction" are sadder still:
(1) "Fiction didn't happen." How does one know? In the multiverse of all possibility that has ever, will ever, or is now existing, or might exist--or even just in the faithful scientific explanation of the expanding universe of billions of years of age and countless unchartable stars and galaxies--who can say, except one making a fundamentalist-Christian-like leap of faith, whether something "fictional" did not, in fact, happen? Do worlds exist where humanoids dwell in polka-dotted purple rainbow trees? Where toasters talk? Possibly. Even to say "unlikely" is a leap of faith. Would you prefer that those possibilities did not exist? How very sad.
This is not to suggest that anything fanciful is worthwhile; rather, that anything fanciful is not to be casually dismissed for "fancy" alone. More accurately, good fantasy, or good imagination, is not truly imagination; it is, instead, a glimpse of something real, yet not otherwise perceivable in the participant's here and now, except through the art in question.
It is, in fact, the idea that "fiction" should be something imagined, rather than discovered (which goes very well with anglo property law, modern IP law, capitalism, enclosure and orderly death), that creates the great mass of bad pulp fiction available for ready experience, which is a reflection of the author's inner emotional state, rather than the discovery and sharing of something beyond.
(2) "Because fiction didn't happen, it is of less worth experiencing than nonfiction." Again, given the emotional-output pulp that predominates across the field of fictional art (literature, movies, paintings, et cetera), this viewpoint finds easy proof of itself. However, this proof is not definitive, anymore than an atheist serial killer proves the rightness of Christianity.
Good, channeled fiction teaches suprauniversal lessons--transcendent things that cannot be figured out from instant experience alone. It moves beyond the current cultural and temporal mores of the participant, allowing her or him to see what "people" would do in situation X, and from that, learn more about people, about life, about the nature of existence, and about possibility and wonder. Repetitive, yes.
(Again rises the specter of fiction produced to indirectly argue a current meme through example. Sharing struggles with those beyond, rather than making a point by coming up with a story, finds a difference, though one not expressible in earthrealm mathematics, the flow of which must be felt rather than pinned to the shelf for observation.
This one, too, shudders at most of the corporatized crap sold as "art," much as McDonald's masking-tape hamburgers masquerade as a fine roast of softened bovine meat with accompaniments.)
To be everbound by the confines of earthrealm is to be everbound by the time in which one's ghost channels through a certain shifting body of human cells. Which cells all die and are replaced by new cells throughout the course of the normal human lifespan, nonetheless generally maintaining the ghost with its perception of unchanging "self" and "reality."