Last fall, I was teaching a workshop on how to write essays, and one question came up again and again: what is an essay. A simple question from the outside, but a harder one to answer from the inside, because so much of what is called an essay these days feels like a lot of other things.
For a new book manuscript I’m working on, I’m trying to capture the world I grew up in, the world where my parents worked with their hands to pay the mortgage, we grew and hunted food because we had to, and dinner out usually meant a potluck meal at a relative’s …
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The Wonder of Truth: Cari...
Despite all the ways we might continue to disagree, we...
