Nonfiction Isn’t False, but Who Says It’s True?
A new micro-genre turns "truth" into an investigation about how meaning gets made



Taking advantage of aspiring authors is a rich tradition, and now published authors are being scammed too
I write; I am a writer. My qualifications are that I say so
Even in death, I can only imagine my parents exactly as they were in life
Hu Anyan’s memoir is a reminder that one can work hard indefinitely and still have to count every penny
Based on what America has provided a foreigner like me, I want to believe this country can shine its grace on those who have rarely felt it
I fear I'm more like my father and Monsieur Bovary—the less interesting character whose suffering doesn't matter
A new micro-genre turns "truth" into an investigation about how meaning gets made
Each time Elfriede is hospitalized, my mother knows she’s forever behind those bars
Ghosts? Been there, done that. Someone writing their own marginalia in a book you lent them? Petrifying!
I feel broken in a way no one else is, and I refuse to talk to anyone about it
Rick believes I am an outsider in our Black family. Even I must concede that
You convinced yourself that super emotional sex would save you from your anxiety but actually what saves you is firm, crisp boundaries