Hi there!
There's a cool line in an essay by the original essay-king (Montaigne) where he says boldly "Reader, thou hast here an honest book."
I love this. I love that it declares truth so proudly-- though "truth" is perhaps not the best word; "honesty" is what it promises. That's what I find the core of nonfiction to be... not the perfection that "truth" denotes, but the honesty and sincerity of truth's portrayal, analysis, and conclusion. Not every word will be objectively true, but each should be subjectively true.
When I essay my hope is to articulate the truths I've accumulated in my life, and though I can't promise perfection I can promise honesty. The truth is important to me-- and though I deliver it with all the imperfections a subjective body and brain must, know that I strive for the kind of grounded truth that will, as Ortega puts it, "awaken in kindred minds kindred thoughts."
Fingers crossed you feel that with me. ☺
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