In a bizarre merger of the background materials of my last two posts, Jill Walker today directs our attention to William Gibson‘s thoughts on writing, “truth,” and accountability.
When did we all become such literalists that we would suggest that someone who hasn’t actually experienced the effects of amphetamines isn’t qualified to write about them? Even in something that calls itself fiction?
Has the recent efflorescence of the memoir — so pervasive I’m not even going to bother linking to anything, because how would I narrow the field — had a hand in this demand for “truth” in writing? If so, I wonder: is the blog as a genre partially responsible for or a mere reflection of this apparent cultural predilection for the literal?
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