My childhood taught me to lie.
My mother was a strict, radically right-wing conservative Christian. Every aspect of my life was censored. She would go through any book I read first with a sharpie. Once edited, I was able to read it. That even went for our collection of encyclopedias. If there was a naked statue, he got a sharpie toga. If there was an article she disagreed with, it got blacked out. Continue reading I Found Myself In Fiction: How I Learned to Write