On Truth, Our Collective Memory, and the Potential Loss of PBS When I was small, in those hazy, delicate years before I learned to fear the world, I spent many afternoons on my grandmother’s floor, holding tightly to the golden feathers of a stuffed Big Bird. The television hummed gently in the background, its screen…
We are never as far from our beginnings as we think. The streets we come from, the books we read, the hands that lifted or dropped us — these things shape the stories we tell and the lives we live. My debut novel, This Thing of Ours, was not born simply from imagination. It was born from…
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