From Wikipedia:
Artistic license (also known as dramatic license, historical license, poetic license, narrative license, licentia poetica, or simply license) is a colloquial term, sometimes euphemism, used to denote the distortion of fact, alteration of the conventions of grammar or language, or rewording of pre-existing text made by an artist to improve a piece of art.
Most of us fiction writers make use of this free license. We take liberties with factual matters and we alter terms, scenery, locations, and certainly grammar to tell our stories. The license we use gives us the freedom to up the ante for the readers' investments in our stories. Experienced readers who are in the know often forgive us for our gaffes in certain areas because they know why we've done it. Other readers have no knowledge of these areas and if they like the story or enjoy our writing, they zip right through the errors giving our artistic license more credence than it sometimes deserves.
We've all heard how television crime shows such as the CSIs take tremendous liberty with forensic information as far as how quickly tests are finished. As a viewer, it makes sense to us because we're only alloted 45 minutes snatched between commercials to solve a hideous crime! And most of us don't have personal knowledge of how the police or FBI or anyone else investigate homicides and other wanton crimes, so we assume we're getting a slightly modified version of reality when we watch our favorite series.
The only downer for us writers is when we make glaring errors which aren't a secret, and we don't get away with them. It's embarrassing. If, as a reader, we have intimate knowledge of a place, occupation, or circumstance which gives us special insights to it/them, we wonder why the author didn't do the necessary research until we realize the author thought he did. He asked questions, maybe visited the featured place, met a few people related to the expertise, but the problem is when we're outside our boundaries we rarely know what the right questions are to ask. So we settle for generalities and think we understand. Only, apparently, we don't. And we get called on it. And we regret it. And sometimes all we can do is offer an apology to those who noticed our mistakes. It's way too late for a do-over. Chalk it up to experience.
"Poetic/Artistic License" is a privilege. Extended to the writers of fiction. Not something we should abuse intentionally or unintentionally.
God, we need you always. Help us to write truth in fiction. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.
Into the Fire 
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