Meet the author...

Star Davies, born in Jacksonville, Florida, a blond hair, blue eyed Native American, has lived in Wisconsin since 1980. She grew up in Milton, but in 2001 relocated to Beloit. Encouraged by her parents throughout her upbringing that she could do anything she put her mind to, her writing began at the age of eight. It was not until her godsons were born in 2003 that she began to create the fantasy world Divica.

Since 2006, Star Davies has published one solo novel, within her primary genre, fantasy. April 2008 saw the debut of Blood Forsaken, a prequel novel to a new series. Five additional volumes are under contract. Star has also published several short stories in Chicken Soup for the Wine Lover's Soul, Wisconsin Writers' Journal, AlienSkin e-zine, and Wisconsin Regional Writer. Some related to her Divica series. Her short, A Restless Night, won awards from VERB e-zine. Star is also an active Chair Member of the Wisconsin Regional Writers' Association.

The novel...

Peace is spreading across the land. Narcysius, heir to the Dragon Throne, is desperate to quench his blood thirsty appetite. Only one can stop him... His brother.

Read the struggle that led to the breaking of the world.

ISBN: 978-1-43489-8962
List Price: $13.99
Purchase the book here.

Excerpt:

Chapter One:

Even as Narcysius passed the last chair, and rounded the edge of the pool, Timaleon could see that same look in his emerald green eyes and stone cold face. Delight in someone else’s fear. Not that Timaleon feared him, really. There was so much about his eldest son that Timaleon would never be able to understand, which was why he knew that what he was about to do was best for the kingdom.

Narcysius knelt before the king. The purple velvet cape around his shoulders swished quickly from side to side as he flipped the left shoulder of it back—purposely revealing the sheathed sword—without touching the cape. The inside of the long cloak shimmered platinum silk. His hand was firmly around the black suede hilt of his sword. With the skills that he possessed—and a brief backward glare that Timaleon could have sworn he caught a glimpse of—Narcysius would have no trouble drawing and quickly beheading his own kin before anyone knew what had happened. The idea that his own flesh and blood could be so cruel forced the usually jolly king to shake off the horrible image.

“Father.” Narcysius’ tone was cold, which matched his detached expression.

Timaleon sighed. “My son.”

But metaphysically speaking, there's a lot more to it.

It's the etheric/astral plane. Projecting yourself into either the second or fourth ring is asking for trouble. A demon could easily compromise a human body and cause troubles if you don't know how to shield. Many people think that projecting themselves to this ring is seeing beyond the 'veil', but in actuality, the fifth ring is always the true veil. When mankind reached space, they passed beyond a veil. When we die and go to the afterlife, we (hopefully) also pass beyond a veil.

To describe the fourth ring: Imagine being isolated in the middle of space---just floating there---where the backdrop is all black and you are surrounded by countless stars. Now try to visualize a blanket of nearly transparent purple flame burning all around you (but it doesn't give off heat and doesn't hurt). Now, imagine it stretching out as far as the eye can see.

The black backdrop is a sandbox. The third ring was a sandbox for 'life'. But this sandbox is for 'storage'.

The stars represent all of the anima in the world; projections of every living soul within the third ring at any given time. They are also, quite literally, containers that hold information about our lives.

The purple flames are the ever-growing, ever-learning collective unconscious; a network of information built from past lives spent. It is the 'spiritual flames'; the ether. As people die and more information is added to this 'server' all lives are connected to, it learns and grows, constantly redefining what is 'good' and what is 'evil'.
 
If a user of the seven rays projects themselves into the fourth ring, that's exactly what they would see. Every few seconds, another star would explode in a glorious display of lights, integrating with the collective unconscious. The brightest stars would be the people who are most influential in the world at any given time.

A non-seven rays mystic that projects to the fourth ring would see something completely different: They would be inside one of the many 'dreams' within the collective unconscious. Any imaginary world that had been dreamed up by mankind resides in the collective unconscious in some form or another. I think I mentioned before Fiddler's Green and Tir Na Nog fit into this category. Worlds like these are part of our collective unconscious, and are therefore part of the fourth ring.

People attuned to air tend to be whimsical and prefer changes to happen in their lives. They'd like to see the world. They often have many eccentricities. They tend to be intelligent and open-minded, and are naturally attacted to people who are having troubles, feeling that they might be able to make a difference by helping others work things out.  Some themes associated with wind is happiness, flight, instincts, subconscious, intellect, messages, scales, optimism, movement, abrasiveness, restlessness, moderation, gateways, goals, orders, tyranny, and inevitability. Winds can get restless if kept in one spot for too long. They also have a tendency to abuse power.

Abilities air mystics have that other mystics do not:
Air mystics have the ability to read other people's thoughts better than any other mystic. They can sustain and direct wind as it blows. A fully heart-linked mystic could likely create a squall, and a group of air mystics could perhaps conjur a tornado. They shield by envisioning a wind current blowing around them. They can easily stir the wind around them and feel it against their skin, knowing their shield is there. This makes air mystics the best when it comes to the art of shielding. They can lash out against supernatural entities with bursts of wind.

Prev: The 3rd Ring: Water | Next: ????

The Fellowship of the Ring, The Lord of the Rings Book I - J.R.R. Tolkien

Descr: Sauron, the Dark Lord, has gathered to him all the Rings of Power except one -- the One Ring that rules them all -- which has fallen into the hands of the hobbit Bilbo Baggins. Young Frodo Baggins finds himself faced with an immense task when Bilbo entrusts the Ring to his care. Frodo must make a perilous journey across Middle-earth to the Cracks of Doom, there to destroy the Ring and foil the Dark Lord in his evil purpose.

            As the Assyrian nation continued to creep forward across the face of planet Earth, they sent more and more of their triremes into outer space. At first their goal was unclear; their scouts were flooding in every direction. Soon, however, the Assyrians seemed to settle on a specific objective: they would try to conquer Venus.

            In March of 745 B.C. 500 Assyrian vessels set sail for Venus. In July they sent another 350. These forces were just the beginning. There were many more to come.

            The inhabitants of Venus rallied to fight them. There were a lot more of them than there had been before, about 490,000 people in all. And they had learned to work together this time. They had learned their lesson from Egyptian invasion centuries before.

Click on the “Story” page for the table of contents

This account is based on the SkyPath Crusade Epic Poem

The Two Towers, The Lord of the Rings Book II - J.R.R. Tolkien

Descr: Frodo and his Companions of the Ring have been beset by danger during their quest to prevent the Ruling Ring from falling into the hands of the Dark Lord by destroying it in the Cracks of Doom. They have lost the wizard, Gandalf, in a battle in the Mines of Moria. And Boromir, seduced by the power of the Ring, tried to seize it by force. While Frodo and Sam made their escape, the rest of the company was attacked by Orcs. Now they continue the journey alone down the great River Anduin -- alone, that is, save for the mysterious creeping figure that follows wherever they go.

The Return of the King, The Lord of the Rings Book III - J.R.R. Tolkien

Descr: While the evil might of the Dark Lord Sauron swarmed out to conquer all Middle-earth, Frodo and Sam struggled deep into Mordor, seat of Sauron's power. To defeat the Dark Lord, the accursed Ring of Power had to be destroyed in the fires of Mount Doom. But the way was impossibly hard, and Frodo was weakening. Weighed down by the compulsion of the Ring he began finally to despair.

For me, I have found this lifestyle to be a freeing experience.  While that would seem contradictary, it is not.  The BDSM lifestyle tends to go against the social norms.  This is what sets it free as opposed to conforming.  The orgy is a prime example of this rejecting of what society promotes.

Monogamy is the tool used by society.  The marriage is the institution by which a society survives.  It is within this framework that the family unit is formed.  This is the foundation for it.  The concept of free sex with multiple partners is discouraged.  Those who engage in the practice are looked down upon.  Society has a variety of terms used to describe these people-and none of them are endearing.

The BDSM environment is made up of a variety of people.  There are plenty of facets for O/one to explore.  Not all involved in this way of life are swingers or into group sex.  Many are into monogomous relationships with a "leather" twist.  However, there are many who are also open to the wild side of the lifestyle.  It is a matter of availing Y/yourself to the deisres within and getting with those who want to share similar experiences.

When engaging in a BDSM orgy, it is important that there be a level of trust among all participants,  Unlike regular orgies, it is best if strangers not be invovled.  Safety, as always, is a primary concern.  The subs are in a vulnerable position, especially if the setting is a dungeon scene complete with all the furniture.  While they are open to being used sexually by many and be worked on by the same people, few will want to deal with an inexperienced person.  Repecting limits is difficult when an overzealous person is invovled.

Entertaining our sexual side is one of the benefits of the BDSM experinece.  This way of life allows O/ones mind to drift into a realm which previously was considered only fantasy.  However, in this lifestyle, the fantasies have a way of becoming reality.  It is all available if Y/you seek it.

Foto: Adina Huţanu

Tenebre VI

VII

Încolţită, Elfa cea roşcată da’ vopsită se scotoci prin buzunare şi întinse celor trei cunoscuţi câte-o lamă de gumă de mestecat. „Parc-ar fi unchiu-meu din Germania!” – îşi spuse Oriana, afişând o mină jalnică. Deşi nici Our ori Alizee nu păreau mai entuziasmaţi, se apucară toţi trei să clefăie, stârnind curiozitatea unui ospătar. Desigur, întreg personalul hanului Lucrătorul ostenit ar fi fost fascinat, dacă s-ar fi aflat la serviciu la acea oră, matinală totuşi.

- Ce te uiţi aşa la noi, n-ai mai văzut gumă de mestecat? – întrebă, mândru de sine, Our.

- Nu!... – răspunse ospătarul, deopotrivă sincer şi lipsit de demnitate.

- Eu mestec de asta când vreau, chiar mai multe pe zi! – completă piticul, făcând un balonaş.

Ospătarul atinse cu degetul punga lipicioasă şi, cum aceasta se sparse cu un zgomot sec, după un moment de descumpănire începu să râdă prosteşte.

- Stai, bă, dobitocule, că-mi lipeşti guma de barbă! – mormăi Our, aparent ofensat, dar, în sinea sa, mândru că a reuşit să atragă atenţia cuiva şi să-l menţină pe tânăr minute bune îndoit de şale.

Momentul s-ar fi prelungit, probabil, dacă în han n-ar fi intrat Vrăjitorul. Despre acesta, circulau sumedenie de legende, cele mai multe cu caracter tenebros. În pofida popularităţii, Vrăjitorul reuşea cel mai adesea să treacă prin lume incognito, fiind recognoscibil doar după privirea de-un gri-verzui halucinant, silueta zveltă şi-un tic verbal care, pe acea planetă şi-n acel mileniu, reprezenta o inovaţie lingvistică:

- Futu-i! – zise el, intrând în local.

Pe dată, Oriana îşi abandonă rânjetul terifiant, arborând un zâmbet sinistru, Elfa cea roşcată da’ vopsită începu să-şi ciupească, nervos, smocurile verzi de pe urechi, iar Alizee îşi concentră toată fiinţa în privire, aceasta reamintind de cea a unei veveriţe.

- Întunericul se va abate – murmură noul venit, apropiindu-se de grup.

- Pentru o zi sau pentru eternitate – răspunse Alizee, însoţindu-şi vorbele de-o gestică stângace, însă fascinantă pentru cunoscători, iar Vrăjitorul părea a fi unul dintre aceştia.

„De unde dracu’ ştie asta parola, că zicea că n-a citit Şarama?” – se întrebă Oriana, recăpătându-şi rânjetul tenebros.

- Adineauri am zis futu-i – explică bărbatul -, la gândul că suntem aşteptaţi de prinţesa Sirona. Or, eu mi-am făcut tabietul ca, în orice han aş intra, să zăbovesc…

- Atunci, să mai zăbovim! – propuse Alizee, asumându-şi cu de la sine putere postura de purtătoare de cuvânt a micului grup. N-avem nicio obligaţie faţă de Sirona…

Our o înghionti pe vrăjitoarea cu cearcăne terifiante, şoptindu-i:

- Ce vrea ăsta? Să-l dau afară?...

Dar, cum nu primi nici un răspuns, Our prinse să-şi sugă dinţii, sperând ca oaspetele să plece de bunăvoie. Fu, însă, şi de data aceasta ignorat.

- De câte ori intru aici – reluă noul venit -, am impresia că mă aflu în plin curent dark fantasy…

- Depinde… - replică Alizee. Uneori, atmosfera poate deveni de-un intens neoromantism…

Observând că discuţia tinde să degenereze, Oriana ceru ospătarului un ceai, Elfa încetă să-şi răsucească smocurile verzi de pe urechi, singur Our recurgând la încercarea disperată de-a se scobi în nas.

„Eu am scris opt volume, fără să teoretizez! Te pui, scrii şi publici, ce mai tura-vura?...” – îşi zise vrăjitoarea.

„Ăştia încep cu dobitocii de-ale lor, de-o să ne prindă dimineaţa! În jurnalism, e destul dacă nu scrii aceiaşi în loc de aceeaşi. Şi să găseşti subiecte fierbinţi şi, pe cât posibil, inedite” – gândi Elfa cea roşcată.

„Ce, toporişca mea?” – completă piticul Our seria meditaţiilor.

Simţind că o discuţie literară ar fi stânjenitoare pentru cei mai mulţi, Alizee şi Vrăjitorul se retraseră într-un separeu, având grijă să închidă şi uşa. În mod straniu, dezinteresul celorlalţi se preschimbă pe dată într-o irezistibilă curiozitate, astfel că Oriana şi Elfa îşi lipiră câte-o ureche de uşă, în vreme ce Our căuta să-şi facă loc printre picioarele lor.

- Ce zic? Ce zic?... – întrebă piticul.

- Taci odată, că nu se-aude nimic de gura ta!- îi reproşă vrăjitoarea.

- Sunt mai mult gemete… - spuse, înciudată, Elfa cea roşcată. Ce curent literar mai e şi ăsta?...

- Ceva avangardist – propuse Oriana, deşi, din ton, s-ar fi putut deduce că nu ţine neapărat să aprofundeze discuţia. Alizee, te simţi bine? – întrebă, cu voce cavernoasă, după o vreme.

- Daa! – răzbătu din încăperea anexă, fără a mai sosi şi alte precizări.

- Ăştia mănâncă ceva bun, că nu prea vorbesc! – opină Our.

- Şşşt! – şuierară cele două însoţitoare, privindu-l cu mânie.

După trecerea a încă ceva vreme, cei doi ieşiră din separeu continuând o conversaţie care nu păruse nimănui a fi avut loc:

- Cum ziceam, curentele literare de bază sunt opt… - zise vrăjitorul.

- Or fi! – admise Alizee. Dar, într-o singură şedinţă, patru sunt de-ajuns! De fapt, celelalte sunt derivate din primele…

De teama unor divagaţii angoasante, vrăjitoarea Oriana aminti că scopul întrunirii era acela al perfectării vizitei la prinţesa Sirona.

- Ce mai vrea şi aia? – se răsti Alizee. Eu nu merg, duceţi-vă voi!...

A Feast for Crows, A Song of Ice and Fire Book IV

Descr: It seems too good to be true. After centuries of bitter strife and fatal treachery, the seven powers dividing the land have decimated one another into an uneasy truce. Or so it appears....With the death of the monstrous King Joffrey, Cersei is ruling as regent in King’s Landing. Robb Stark’s demise has broken the back of the Northern rebels, and his siblings are scattered throughout the kingdom like seeds on barren soil. Few legitimate claims to the once desperately sought Iron Throne still exist—or they are held in hands too weak or too distant to wield them effectively. The war, which raged out of control for so long, has burned itself out.

But as in the aftermath of any climactic struggle, it is not long before the survivors, outlaws, renegades, and carrion eaters start to gather, picking over the bones of the dead and fighting for the spoils of the soon-to-be dead. Now in the Seven Kingdoms, as the human crows assemble over a banquet of ashes, daring new plots and dangerous new alliances are formed, while surprising faces—some familiar, others only just appearing—are seen emerging from an ominous twilight of past struggles and chaos to take up the challenges ahead.

It is a timewhen the wise and the ambitious, the deceitful and the strong will acquire the skills, the power, and the magic to survive the stark and terrible times that lie before them. It is a time for nobles and commoners, soldiers and sorcerers, assassins and sages to come together and stake their fortunes...and their lives. For at a feast for crows, many are the guests—but only a few are the survivors.

A Storm of Swords, A Song of Ice and Fire Book III - George R.R. Martin

Descr: As Martin's richly imagined world slides closer to its 10-year winter, both the weather and the warfare worsen. In the north, King Joffrey of House Lannister sits uneasily on the Iron Throne. With the aid of a peasant wench, Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, escapes from jail in Riverrun. Jaime goes to the other youthful ruler, Robb Stark, to secure the release of Joffrey's prisoners, Robb's sisters Arya and Sansa Stark. Meanwhile, in the south, Queen Daenarys tries to assert her claim to the various thrones with an army of eunuchs, but discovers that she must choose between conquering more and ruling well what she has already taken.

A Clash of Kings, A Song of Ice and Fire Book II - George R.R. Martin

Descr: The Seven Kingdoms have come apart. Joffrey, Queen Cersei's sadistic son, ascends the Iron Throne following the death of Robert Baratheon, the Usurper, who won it in battle. Queen Cersei's family, the Lannisters, fight to hold it for him. Both the dour Stannis and the charismatic Renly Baratheon, Robert's brothers, also seek the throne. Robb Stark, declared King in the North, battles to avenge his father's execution and retrieve his sister from Joffrey's court. Daenerys, the exiled last heir of the former ruling family, nurtures three dragons and seeks a way home. Meanwhile the Night's Watch, sworn to protect the realm from dangers north of the Wall, dwindle in numbers, even as barbarian forces gather and beings out of legend stalk the Haunted Forest.

A Game of Thrones, A Song of Ice and Fire Book I - George R.R. Martin

Descr: In a world where the approaching winter will last four decades, kings and queens, knights and renegades struggle for control of a throne. Some fight with sword and mace, others with magic and poison. Beyond the Wall to the north, meanwhile, the Others are preparing their army of the dead to march south as the warmth of summer drains from the land.

Mang Busyo is just an ordinary guy, he is a farmer turned to be a cab driver as he could no longer till his land because it was converted into a subdivision. Because he lives in the place Mang Busyo used the money they paid him for his farm to put up a little business. He has a sari-sari store but was bankrupt because of unpaid credits from his customers.

He quitted with his sari-sari store and operate a tricycle cab, because there were only two of them with this business, he succeeded. More people came and transfered residence to the subdivision, the volume of passangers grow and so he has to buy another cab to fill up the needs. Mang Busyo soon operate a fleet of tricycle in the area. 

But soon Mang Busyo find it difficult to cope with the ever increasing prices of gasoline. Now his concern main concern is how to save gas so his income shall not be depleted with weekly increase of gasoline prices. He consulted experts and they told him to go on bio-fuel. Others suggested that he will convert his motorcycle fuel into LPG. The cost of doing so is high so he quitted with the idea.

Now all he could do is to dream to find a stream full of gasoline so he could just get his fuel from natural sources. But then he stopped dreaming again on that idea, lest there would be fire anywhere. Again he dream of water fuel, it is safe and available anywher. But he stopped dreaming again on water fuel because he could not make up his mind whether it is a salty water or a fresh water. Somebody suggested to him about rain water, but seldom it rains also in his place and what about summer? So what is left for him to dream is a fuel-less motor vehicle. The summit of his dreams, a dream that may not come true because his wife suggested instead to use bicycle.

Sa Wika ni Rizal

Grabe ka talaga Mang Bosyo, ayaw mong gumasta, ayaw mung mapinsala ang iyong bulsa. E, pangarap lang iyan... Pero ganito talaga si mang Bosyo, pinaghahandaan ang hinaharap. Tutoo nga naman kapag mayroon kang naiipon na pera, may magagamit ka sa mga panahon ng pangangailangan. Kaya ito na naman ang pinapangarap ni Mang Bosyo ang buhay na wala kang ginagasta, buhay na wala kang iniipon, at buhay na wala kang inaalala... Puwedi ba iyon? 

Can your inner life become an entity unto itself?  Is it possible that it can manifest into a creature that has to be reckoned with, as real as a living lover and just as cumbersome?  I was soon to find out.

After spending my entire life in a daydream, I woke up the other day to discover an unwelcome party encamped in my bed.  It was lodged firmly between my husband and myself, rooted to the spot like a petulant child.  It was a blob of self-created fantasy so big that it nearly pushed both of us out of bed. 

I immediately recognized my handiwork and that alarmed me.  How did the thing migrate from my head to partycrasher?  Aren't mental scenarios confined to the brain?  Apparently, this one was not and it seemed in no hurry to leave the comfort of my marital bed, not a terrible prospect if this fantasy had actually involved  my husband.

Of course it did not.  This misshapen intruder was the result of countless hours dreaming about a life which did not include him, a life which bears no resemblance at all to the unremarkable life I live during my waking ones.  It's full of pathos, my blobby offspring; rich with torrid romance and exhilirating emotions, and topped with a gooey thick icing of maudlin sentiment and chocolate sprinkles.   Satin sheets, rose petals, bearskin rugs and red carpet strolls in haute couture, accompanied by a soundtrack of applause and a portfolio of expensive real estate.  It's glorious, vain and masturbatory, like a secret addiction which is intensely pleasurable but destructive.

I needed an intervention.  So, I convened a group of my closest advisors -reason, judgment and common sense- and threw myself at their mercy, but they showed me none.  Harsh, cold and unmoved by my tears, they threatened to leave me completely if I chose not to take the help they offered. 

What else could I do?  I boarded the plane and flew away to rehab.  I only wonder if I'll survive ninety days without champange wishes and caviar dreams.

The Last Battle, The Chronicles of Narnia Book VII - C.S. Lewis

Descr: What begins as a self-serving scheme by an evil ape quickly turns deadly, as the fierce Calormenes invade Narnia and claim that their god, Tash, and the Great Lion Aslan are one and the same. Young King Tirian and his comrades must fight for the survival of Narnia.

The Silver Chair, The Chronicles of Narnia Book VI - C.S. Lewis

Descr: The fourth book C.S. Lewis wrote about Narnia. It discribes the events following The Voyage of the Dawn Treader where two English children undergo adventures as they go on a search and rescue mission for the missing Prince Rilian, who is held captive in the underground kingdom of the Emerald Witch.

The Voyage of the Dawn Treader, The Chronicles of Narnia Book V - C.S. Lewis

Descr: Join Lucy, Edmund, and Eustace on a sea voyage where they encounter a gigantic sea serpent, a land of darkness where nightmares come true, and an island where a boy is turned into a dragon.

Prince Caspian, The Chronicles of Narnia Book IV - C.S. Lewis

Descr: Peter, Susan, Edmund, and Lucy Pevensey, the heroes and heroines from The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, return in this fourth installment of C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia series. The four children are transported from an English train station to an island in the world of Narnia. Though Narnia has been at peace since the children left, it is now under the control of Wicked King Mirax. The youngsters, along with Aslan the great lion, must help young Prince Caspian restore Narnia's glorious past.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, The Chronicles of Narnia Book II - C.S. Lewis

Descr: The second installment of C.S. Lewis' Chronicles of Narnia, siblings Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy escape the Nazi bombing of London to their uncle's estate in the country.  There they discover the entrance to Narnia where they encounter fauns, centaurs and talking beavers, before they join Aslan's war against the White Witch who has kept Narnia under her wintery rule for ages.

 It's not the first time I've doubted myself as an artist.  I've often wondered how creative I actually am.  I've felt like a fake and a phony, like writing anything besides fiction made me unworthy of calling myself a writer.  How creative do you actually have to be to write life?  That's what journalists do and they're not necessarily classified as "creative writers," nor are grant writers, pamphlet writers, flyer writers, instruction manual writers, and a whole slew of other writers who write facts.  Then I thought that maybe the difference was that creative nonfiction writers use metaphor and poetic words, and many of the same elements as fiction writers.  I write the facts but make them pretty.

 But that still didn't feel artistic enough to me.  To create something is to make something that wasn't there previously.  That's what fiction writers do.  They spin lives out of thin air.  They name people and imagine their favorite ice cream flavors and who they chased around on the playground when they were kids.  They dress them and give them hair and eyes, a dislike of chocolate and a love of canned sardines.  It was the complete opposite, it seemed to me, of what I did.  I take a life that already exists and put it on the page.  Where's the imagination there?  What is it that I'm creating?

 But then I started thinking about visual art.  A painter who paints a landscape the way it actually looks is no less creative than Van Gogh painting "Starry Starry Night," or Picasso painting any number of his cubist works. The sculptures of Michelangelo are no less creative than those of modern artists.  In fact, sometimes those things are harder to create.  It's not easy to pin life down and make it stand still and be able to do it justice. 

 In creative nonfiction writing, everything is already there, yes, but it's up to the writer to decide what to do with it.  How should it be spaced?  What should be left out?  What should be emphasized?  Emphasizing one detail even slightly differently can sometimes cause an entirely other truth to be illuminated from the same events.  It is indeed a creative craft.  The writer has to play up certain details in order to make them glisten on the page the way they do in real life.  You have to poke and prod the words, nudging them in, smoothing them and rounding the corners, putting indents here and creating bulges there.  It's not easy.  It's not uncreative.  I am a writer.