I was a kid. In many ways, I’m still a kid, trapped in the extended adolescence of the post-irony, post-sincerity millennial era; I came of age in America under the Bush Administration, a world where words, masquerading as truths, became tools for war. Fictions posing as nonfictions created disaster. Why would I even want to pretend to be able to tell the truth?
Over at Hunger Mountain, Rumpus Editorial Assistant and blogger Phillip Garcia writes about nonfiction, from the point of view of a fiction writer and poet.
